Love conquers all

Last month, we let some friends borrow our RV. They were on a whirlwind trip to Florida and they wanted to camp at Fort Wilderness and go to Disney World. The family of five used our RV for half a week, maybe not even that. I can't remember right now and those details don't matter. We never gave it a second thought. We wished we could do more. The mom, a girl that I grew up with- starting with girl scouts and ending with graduation from high school- was dying of cancer. She died this past Saturday.

I hadn't seen Shannon in over 20 years. We'd reconnected on Facebook and commented on pictures from time to time. When I saw her at the campground, I was struck by her strength. Physically, she didn't have much strength left. The medication she was on left her in such a state that she would start to fall asleep mid sentence. But her words were strong. She spoke of her family and her love and it was all strength. She was knew what was coming and she told me she wanted the trip for her family. She wanted to be everything she could for them. She wanted to be strong as possible so they wouldn't remember her sadness.

When I found out she died on Saturday, I was sad. We knew it was likely, but her death was hard to realize. It was hard to grasp, even though it was expected. She was young! I mean, she is my age. She has 3 children. It just isn't fair. So much in life isn't fair. I tell my kids that. But this, this unfairness hurts my soul.

And yet, when I think of her, I think about how she decided to be strong. Strong in the face of death.

Months ago, my pastor made a point one Sunday that resonated with me. We are all dying. Every one of us. Right now. We are dying. No one will escape death. And somehow hearing that absolved me from fear. Death is inevitable. In the end, our earthly decisions determine what death means. How we approach death impacts those we know and love. Shannon approached death with strength. She did not want to die. When I was with her, she talked about one more possible, but unlikely, treatment possibility. She was unsure the treatment was possible for her. She was certain about what she wanted. She wanted to be with her family and for her family to feel love. She seemed so strong, even with her body failing. I did not see fear. I saw love. I saw how much she loved her husband, her kids, her siblings. That will continue to impact me for years to come.

Love conquers death. And while I know she died, I know she lives.

She Laughs

I am terrible with emails. My inbox is always overrun with unread emails. In fact, over the holidays, I hit a new high- or new low, depending on how you look at it- over 1,700 unread emails. There are a few people in my life that can't stand this problem I have. For some, is bothersome- really bothersome, to have unread emails. Who knew?
Well, anyways, I signed up for an automatic, daily email. While I am sure that means there will be days that the automatic email adds to my unread email total, I am looking forward to the emails.
My church sends out a daily SOAP email. SOAP = Scripture, Observations, Application, Prayer.
This is a good thing.

Lately the SOAP has been going through Proverbs. Today, it is on Proverbs 31.
There are many words that challenge in these verses. Today, my heart is moved by these words in particular.

²⁵ She is clothed with strength and dignity,
    and she laughs without fear of the future.
²⁶ When she speaks, her words are wise,
    and she gives instructions with kindness.

She laughs without fear of the future. I want to live without fear. I want to laugh. Not that long delirious laugh I sometimes have when I am overwhelmed. I want to laugh with joy.

She gives instructions with kindness. I'll be honest. I have four kids and my instructions are not always shrouded with kindness.  I will focus on that.

SOAP is a good thing for me. It is a great start to each day- a little strength to go. I am not sure about the dignity but I am quite certain that reading scriptures with help with that. My words are not always wise, but then again, scriptures should help with that. And, of course, scriptures will help with any kind of instructions I give and the way I give them.

I am not afraid of the drudgery of this day. I laugh in the face of my fear of insignificance and doldrums.


Oh, and this morning, my unread email count is 26.

Unexpected worship

Last Sunday, the stained glass cross at the front of the church was vibrant with the light from outside. It struck me as beautiful. The large opened Bible placed on a podium was lit with color from the light shining through the stained glass windows on the other wall of the church. It was striking. It caused me to pause and appreciate the beauty.

It was beautiful. I realized that even as the tears of heartache were in my eyes.

My experience at church wasn't what I expected that day. I had longed to be there. It felt like it had been too long. So much had happened during the week. The last few days I truly looked forward to church.

And then when I got there, I felt a surge of emotion I didn't expect feel. It wasn't sadness. But, it was. It wasn't happiness. But, it was.

All week I prayed. I have prayed on my knees. And I don't even know what I think about being like that, but I was at that very point of desperation. The place where getting on my knees just happened. I would venture to say that I haven't prayed this hard since my dad had his stroke 10 years ago. We just really didn't know if my brother-in-law would make it. He "isn't out of the woods" yet.

Anyway, at church, I expected to feel invigorated. I expected to feel filled.
I didn't expect to feel the emotion that I felt. It was all I could do not to cry. I cried. But the tears didn't slip away from my eyes.

All week I have asked and begged and pleaded for God to heal Josh.

Josh is in ICU after having a pulmonary embolism. The long of it is that he had sepsis from some infection he probably contracted from an appendectomy he had a couple of months ago. The infection caused blood to coagulate and he had bi-lateral pulmonary embolisms. He has kidney problems that probably stem from the sepsis. He's strong but he's been struggling to live.

I've been in this continual pleading stage with God. And being in church on Sunday, I found it both difficult and amazing to worship. It was a different kind of worship.

I believe God is in control and all powerful.
He knows my heart.
To worship him when my current heart's desire is outstanding was difficult. It was also right.

And so I found a way to worship. I found I way to focus on God, his creation and how amazing life is.

This life is so precious. So fragile. Fleeting.  It's incomprehensible how we are- how we all exist in the first place. I cannot stop myself from marveling at all that life is.

Worship was not what I expected but it was the most heart-wrenching worship I have experienced in long time.  And that makes it beautiful.

Perhaps the best worship isn't what we expect. It isn't the music or an emotion filled elation. Worship is when we adore God. That can happen at the best of times and at the darkest of times. It can happen in our neediest hour. Sometimes adoration becomes deeper when heartache is present.

Beautiful.

A New Year. A New Day. A New Song

Last night, I had a festive family celebration planned for New Year's Eve. But in the middle of the family movie we were watching, we received word that my husband's brother was in the ICU and had two pulmonary embolisms. My children were laughing and giddy. My husband's eyes were intermittently filling with tears. It was surreal. Somehow, we managed to let the kids stay up late and countdown the final countdown to the new year. I got the kids in bed while my husband communicated with family back east.

I do not know what this year holds. A new year. Full of promise. Full of unknowns.

I was reminded that I do not know what tomorrow holds. A new day. Full of unknowns.

I have many wishes and desires for this 2014 year.
But today my heart is full of concern for my family. I am prayerful that my brother-in-law will pull through and heal. I am praying for my husband who left to be with the family. I am praying for my mom-in-law and father-in-law and sister-in-law and other brothers-in-law. I am longing for this to be over and for everything to be alright. I am hoping. I am praying.

I have hope.
I am trying to be patient and the only way I know to do that is to continue in constant prayer.

Romans 12:12 ¹² Rejoicing in hope; patient in tribulation; continuing instant in prayer;

 A new year has come. This year, I am going to give God the glory for everything good in my life. Like hope. And prayer. And family.
I am going to be authentic, open, and real with everyone as I consistently fill my days with thanksgiving. I will sing a new song.

Psalm 96:1-2
 ¹ Sing to the Lord a new song;
    sing to the Lord, all the earth.
² Sing to the Lord, praise his name;
    proclaim his salvation day after day.

Independence and Grace that Never Fails

Every day my 6 year old reads to me. It's part of his homework. We usually do this after dinner and often right before bed. Tonight, he read to me in his room. My 8 year old and my 3 year old were playing. My 10 year old was reading. We were settling in for the night.

At some point, my 8 year old decided to do something else. My 3 year old grabbed an opportunity to try something without asking.

She decided to to shave like Daddy.

That razor that was by the sink this morning- the one that I thought my husband was taking with him on his trip- was right there for her to use.

Suddenly in the middle of helping my son sound out words, I heard the cry that makes a mom jump up and run.

"Moooommaaa! Momma!"

She was walking down the hall. Fear was dripping from her eyes. Blood covered her chin and was all over her hands.

I grabbed her, wet some tissue and began to clean her up. She had "shaved" her bottom lip. She bled and bled. The cut wasn't too deep. It was just deep enough to bleed a lot. It was also in a sensitive spot.

I comforted her. I talked to her about what she did. I gave her my love.

I was thinking over the incident when I remembered - grace.

She tried something without asking. She knew she wasn't allowed to touch the razor. She saw an opportunity and she took it.

She asserted her independence.
And then she felt pain.

She didn't hide. She didn't hesitate. She did not wonder what I would do.
She came to me.
She knew I would be there for her.

I wonder what keeps me from acting like my child? I go my way- this way and that- until I hurt. I entertain myself endlessly with the computer, books, chores and what-not, and then I wonder how long I will stay on the island.

I need child-like dependence, in spite of immaturity.

I need to remember that grace is not a one time gift.
God's love is unconditional- thousands of years ago, yesterday- and right now.

I can come to him, messy with the effects of wasted time, a lack of discipline, or limited faith. I can always come to him.

God's love never fails.

Lamentations 3:22 Because of the LORD’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail.

Living

I can be fragile.

I can be broken in so many ways. Hurt feelings. Poor self image. Lack of ambition. Loss of life. A change of plans.


I can be affected by others. The quickly spoken words of another person can linger in my mind for weeks. I hate it when I let that happen. I can internalize disappointment, criticism, loneliness and more. I often let the imperfections of myself and others leave a mark on my daily outlook.

A tattoo.

I am tattooed by failures and longings for what is out of reach.

I am stained.

The struggles, the pain, the selfishness stain my life and affect me each day.

I press on, but my vision is clouded by poor choices and the imperfection in my life.

I press on, but I am jaded and unimpressive.

Love changes everything.

I stop. I pray. I ask God for help.

The broken stained pieces of my life are taken and put together in an array of color and life. I have a life rearranged.

With God, and a sustaining belief that Jesus died and rose again, I am transformed.

I bring my broken pieces to the Father. He artistically creates. He puts me together.

The world provides nothingness. Broken pieces.
With the world's viewpoint, no matter how I am put together, I am dull and useless.


God provides life.
With a dependence on God, I live a life vibrantly illuminated by God's love.


On this day, I choose life.
And, I pray that I will make the same choice tomorrow.

"The Spirit gives life; the flesh counts for nothing..." John 6:63

Thirsty for More

I'm reading a book called Chazown. It's too early to know if I like the book- or the premise of the book, even. However, the book is making me think about what's important to me. It's making me think about what matters most. Each day is made up of little decisions. Each day is just another day. My whole life is made of up day after day. If I am not cognizant, I will get to the end and I won't be sure if my life mattered.

The book references a prayer by Sir Francis Drake. I looked it up. It's touching. His words stirred up my desires and prompted me to pray. Here is part of the prayer:

"Disturb us, Lord, when
We are too pleased with ourselves,
When our dreams have come true
Because we dreamed too little,
When we arrived safely
Because we sailed too close to the shore.
Disturb us, Lord, when
with the abundance of things we possess
We have lost our thirst
For the waters of life;
Having fallen in love with life,
We have ceased to dream of eternity"

Sir Francis Drake (1577)

I am praying. I am dreaming. I am looking to become unsettled and uncomfortable.

I am thirsty for more.
I want more faith. more passion. and more love for others.

I am thirsty for a growing relationship that never gets stagnant.
I want a vitality that is only possible through total dependence.

I am thirsty for more.

Grace Citation

I was running late. My husband left early. We volunteer to cook breakfast on Sunday mornings at church. My husband does most of the cooking. On Sunday, I opted to help by keeping the kids home and letting them sleep in. We had kept them up late the night before at the local, visiting carnival. I let the morning slip by. I was running late but I wasn't stressed about it. Tardiness isn't unusual for me. However, I was sure my husband was going stir crazy waiting for us.

With all 4 kids chattering away in the car, my thoughts were interrupted by a call from my husband. I answered the call. I told him I was on my way and would be there in a few minutes. Then, I hung up abruptly. My rear view mirror was yelling at me in colors of red and blue. I was being pulled over for talking on the phone while driving.

I pulled over and calmly explained to my questioning kids that I was going to get a ticket.

The officer approached and asked if I had any idea why he pulled me over. I told him that I was pretty sure I did. When he asked "Why?" I said "Because I was on my phone." He nodded. He asked me who I was talking to. I told him that I was talking to my husband, telling him I was on my way and almost there. He asked me where I was going.

Humbly I said, "Church."

He nodded and then asked for my licence, registration and proof of insurance. With lots of effort, I located my license, registration and insurance card. He took them and said he would be back.

I sat.
I waited.

I thought to myself: I should be thankful that he is doing his job. I should be thankful that he is keeping the streets safe. I know it isn't safe to talk and drive. I should be thankful. I should be thankful. I kept saying it to myself over and over.

My oldest asked, "How LONG does it take for him to write a ticket?"

After what felt like an eternity, the officer approached.

He said, "Ma'am, how long have you lived in Oregon?"

I thought, Oh Crap.

"A couple years." (As if saying 3 years would be worse.)

He told me that we were supposed to get Oregon tags 30 days after moving to Oregon. (This is something that my husband knows. This is just something he failed to do because Washington plates are cheaper.)

Then, he said, "Not only that, your tags expired in May."

I did not know that. Crap. Double Crap.

The officer told me that with charges for cell phone use while driving, expired tags, and failure to register my vehicle, my charges should be well over $500.

Should be.

And then, he said: "I am going to give you a warning on all three accounts. Get this taken care of right away. Consider this your lucky day."

I looked at him. My eyes locked with his. The moment was heavy.

I said, "Oh, thank you. Thank you very much."

Grace.

That's what's been on my mind all day. Do you know I felt relieved, overwhelmed, extremely thankful and in disbelief? I didn't deserve the grace. I deserved a rather large ticket.

Grace.

Hours later, I drove into my driveway. I noticed something stuck in my doorway. It was officer badge stickers, officer trading cards and the officer's business card with a hand written note: "For the Kiddos".

Grace: Doing what's not required for someone undeserving.

All day I've been stunned by the grace I received. I am full of gratitude. I am also hyper-aware of how much it affected me. This gift of grace had an impact on my whole day.

I couldn't help but remember: I am a child of grace.

I live my life believing I have been offered the greatest gift of grace possible. I am forgiven. I have received God's grace and gift of salvation. Grace is at the heart of my faith.

Too often, I forget that I have been given an amazing gift.

I am going to carry my warning ticket around with me long after my husband gets our tags registered in Oregon. It's a visual reminder of the feeling grace left me. It's a reminder that I am forgiven.

Without Words

Without warning, I fell.

I stumbled. Something caught my attention. Someone seemed so much better. I compared myself and in my eyes, I paled in comparison.

I tripped myself up with too many tasks on my to do list. I multi-tasked. I could not keep up with myself. I forgot to catch myself before I fell into feelings of failure.

I crashed down with the weight of the burdens (that I took on) of others. I loaded myself down with thoughts of concern and desperate longings to be the one that could make everything better. I did not realize that I could not be everything to everyone.

I descended into an abyss of self-pity and discontentment. The abyss was imagined but powerfully real.

I fell. In some ways I am still falling. These are just a few of the ways that I struggle.

When I feel strong feelings of failure, I have to stop. When I am falling, it is hard to stop.

I search for words.

The words come to me flowing like a waterfall over a cliff. The words fall from my heart and collect in a pool of prayers.

My prayers feel weak sometimes. I imagine they are flowing streams that gather strength as they morph into rivers and ultimately an ocean of praise and petition.

My faith is unwavering even when my steps are unsteady.

Without words of prayer, I plummet into self-absorption. My words, through prayers, sustain me even when I am weak.

When I fail to pray, when I am without words, I cannot abate my feelings of failure. Without words of prayer, my focus rests on myself and not on my Saviour.

My faith is unwavering. My words are being squeezed out of my heart through prayer. I am still here. I am struggling, praying, and growing.

Be Still

"Be still, and know that I am God: I will be exalted among the heathen, I will be exalted in the earth." Psalm 46:10

Wilted Flowers: A reflection of myself

It shouldn't have happened.


I bought some tulips last week. They were white. They were beautiful. They added life to my house. I felt refreshed when I looked at them. My house grew into a chaotic mess all week and the flowers were a focal point for me. When I looked at them, I felt peace. They were beauty in the middle of ugliness.

I kept them on the table most of the week. They went from the table to the counter and back to the table again before and after each meal.

The flowers made me smile.

And then, I moved them. I put them on the window sill in the kitchen.

I left them there, slowly dying.



Tonight I looked up and thought, "That shouldn't have happened. I should have thrown them out days ago."

The flowers are a picture of death. The beauty is gone. I look at them and realize I am too consumed with my busy schedule to throw out old flowers.

I

am

Too

Consumed

With

Myself

I hear the words loudly. I realize that even in the midst of Lent and looking forward to Easter, I have been self-centered.

The dead flowers are meaningful again. They remind me of Christ's death. They remind me of myself.

It's shouldn't have happened. I am so glad it did.

There's no beauty in death.

On Easter, I will celebrate life.

There is beauty in resurrection.

Tonight, I am struck by the sadness of death. Tonight, I anticipate a new beginning.

Tomorrow, I will replace the dead, lifeless flowers with a living plant.

I will focus on the beauty of life.

The Work of His Hands

This morning, in the middle of the start-up of the day rush, I paused. I set everything aside for five minutes. I slipped on my jacket and stepped outside. It was chilly. It was quiet. A couple of birds fluttered by.

I gazed at the sky. In one direction, the clouds were lifting. I could see the light of the day behind the clouds. It was a beautiful beginning.

In the other direction, the moon hung in the sky. It was breathtaking. It's brilliance was muted by the daylight colors. It was a peaceful end to night.



I took a few deep breaths. I thanked God for the beauty of nature.

As I continued through my morning, the sky became cloudy. The clouds were emotional (trials and burdens) and physical (real clouds in the sky).

It's raining now.

The rain does not bother me. It cannot put out the flame of appreciation that started this morning.

Those moments this morning were a focal point for my day. The brilliance of the morning sky and the subdued moon reminded me that God is amazing.

Psalm 19:1-2
"The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands. Day after day they pour forth speech; night after night they display knowledge."


I am making an effort this week to be more aware.

I encourage you to take time to notice the beauty God has provided around you. On your way to the car or on your way in a building, take few breaths, check out the clouds, notice the birds in the sky or the insects crawling on the ground.

Be aware that we live in a special place and we have an amazing creator.

Still Comparing Apples to Oranges

I have trouble not comparing myself to others. I don't know why. It just happens. Before I know it, I am doing it. It is self destructive.

Even worse is when someone else judges me against others... no, I take that back, it is worse when I do it... it is just more frustrating when someone else compares me to another person.

I am who I am for better or worst. I strive to do better. I am constantly working to improve.

I am not meant to have all that others have.

I am not meant to excel in areas that others excel.

I do have talents and God-given abilities. Sometimes that means I am ahead of others in areas.

I have bad luck sometimes. Other times, I am extremely blessed through no merit of my own.

I don't always compare myself and feel like I don't measure up. Sometimes I compare myself and wish I didn't have what I have. I wish I could be someone else or somewhere else. I am often discontent with what I see around me because I want life to be more fair.

It's like the cry of my kids, "That's not fair!"

I long to excel. I also long to be more giving. I want to be content.

This comparison game that I struggle with is frustrating. One day I will wish I had more. A day or so later, I wish I had much, much less.

I want to grow my mental capacity, my emotional stability, my spiritual understanding, my physical healthiness, and my over all happiness.

In my growth, I want to be less.

I want to think less of myself and more of others.

Less of me means less comparing apples to oranges.


So, I fix my eyes on what is unseen. For I know that what is seen is temporary and what is unseen is eternal (2 Corinthians 4:18). I decide to live by faith (2 Corinthians 5:7). I try to remember that I may never be happy with myself. It is okay. I must stop comparing myself and trying to be successful in my own eyes. My faith must continues to grow. I must shift my focus away from myself. I must submit my motives to God. (2 Corinthians 10:18: For it is not the one who commends himself who is approved, but the one the Lord commends.")

I want to think less of myself and more of others.

I want to think less of myself and more of God. Without Him, I am all about myself.
When my focus is self-centered, I continue to compare apples to oranges.

Regret, Revelation, and Hope

I am home. Two children are with me. But, I feel alone. I am isolated, desperate for peace.

I should be full of honor and praise this morning.

I am full of regret.

My heart's cry found comfort this morning in these words: "Draw near to God and he will draw near to you." (James 4:8)

Comfort, relief and revelation are poured on my soul.

God is with me but I am still responsible for my failures.
God is with me.

Even in the desert that I pull myself through, He is with me.
His companionship hugs my hardened heart.

I press on. I have no choice but to continue through my day.

I choose to cling to the promises that give me hope.

Dirty Dishes, One Big Mess, and a Humble Heart

I have two goals today. Today I am going to get my kitchen clean and provide my kids dinner. I have been feeling icky for days and my place is a wreck.

There is a pile of laundry waiting to be folded on the couch. I had to put it there because there was a pile of washed laundry waiting in the washer to be dried.

There are little pieces of paper on the kitchen floor from yesterday (I think it was yesterday) when my 4 year old was practicing cutting (he needs those cutting skills).

The toys are all over the living room. That's a given on most days but today it seems worse.

The kitchen is the worst it has ever been. The waffle iron is still sitting on the counter to be cleaned from Saturday night. The griddle from last night's grilled cheese sandwiches just got washed. Thankfully for the counter space, we ordered pizza on Saturday night. We have managed to run the dishwasher each day but, beyond that, the leftover dishes have not been done. It is bad. There are also Sierra Mist cans sitting out. I don't know why but when I feel bad, I want Sierra Mist or Sprite to drink. So, the empty cans clutter the counter waiting to be recycled.



My husband and I have been feeling bad since Saturday. He stayed home from work most of the day yesterday. Today he has to work and he won't be home until after the kids are in bed. Today, it's all me and I don't feel up to it.

I have had 5,467 interruptions since I started writing this post.

I almost can't remember why I started this post. Oh, right- I remember...

I feel real. This is a bit of real life -dirtiness, struggling to keep up, constant interruptions, and distractions. It's humbling to be in this place. It's real.

I sat down with my cup of coffee, my bagel, my good book, a pencil and some paper. I read a bit. I had to keep my daughter from drawing on my devotional book. I had to keep her from tearing the fine paper pages of my Bible. After a bit, I gave up, put the binder, book and pencil on my counter.


I am not sure what I got from the verses I read today.

It doesn't matter. I am hanging on. I am holding on to all that's left to hold on to.

I don't feel good and I despise the state of my house.

I am pressing on.

I am bringing my dishes to the sink, washing and scrubbing, and setting them out to dry.

I am bringing my dirt, unashamed, to God.