Breaking Down

Much of this year has been focused on training for my half marathon and mission trip to Guatemala. I cannot do many things well at one time so I tend to pile all of my efforts into just a few. It became a lot harder for me to save images on my computer, and my husband inadvertently switched my blogging password. All of a sudden it just became a real hassle to even think about getting a blog post together. I tried a few times, but could not give it the time and energy that it requires. It took me the better part of a week to get the password reset and this picture placed at the top of the page, but I'm finally good to go. Lord willing, hopefully it'll be easier for the next post.

We are two-thirds of the way into the Fall Hiking Spree. The air is turning crisp and leaves are changing, falling, and crunching underfoot. The trails invite me to rediscover them in their more simplistic, stripped down form. The leaf canopies have been replaced by bare limbs and unobstructed views of the sky. There are no splashes of color from wildflowers to grab my attention, which affords me the opportunity to enjoy that which is sometimes overlooked. Things like moss, dirt, bark, rocks, and mushrooms.

Mushrooms. I came upon these toward the end of our hike and knew they were a blog post in the making. I stopped, absorbing the thoughts that began flying at me. I walked over to them, bending low for a closer look. My fingers stretched out to feel their smooth, springy flesh. My family moved on without me, but I continued my examination, piecing together all that I was hearing from my Father. Finally, I snapped a few pictures and walked away... unburdened.

I had been wrestling with some things all week about the Guatemala mission trip. Mainly, I was beating myself up because I had experienced what had felt like a relapse while there. I had gone into the trip feeling strong. I had labored an entire year to rid myself of emotionally destructive tendencies. I had felt confident and sure as I boarded my plane. Unbeknownst to me, I had more ground to cover.

I've recently shared about that first little incident that the enemy had a field day with, but I will recount the story here for those who may not be familiar with it. I had been working the "Bucket Brigade" as our team helped build the villagers a church. I had worked so hard passing those unbelievably heavy buckets of dirt. I had joyed in the physicality of our task since I was in the best shape of my life. I had completed my first half marathon two weeks prior and had risen early that very morning to run up and down a mountain in heat and humidity that I was unaccustomed to. I was feeling pretty good about myself.

Then I overheard a team member worriedly speaking to our pastor about the likelihood of our work continuing at the same level the next day. We had a huge task ahead of us and he just could not see it happening with the bodies we had to accomplish it. He had specifically mentioned my name with a few others, proclaiming, "There's no way they are going to be able to keep doing this stuff." To say that I wilted is an understatement! I let him know that I was fine and would do the work, but that turned out to be untrue. I wasn't fine. Just that one little sentence had caused me to believe so much less in my ability to contribute anything of worth. It was not the same from that point on. When I passed buckets I imagined that the guys were expecting me to be weak. If it was a particularly hefty bucket I felt pressure to not let on how heavy it felt to me. If I lost my footing in the loose soil I imagined that they were thinking I couldn't handle the work. It seemed like the guys were holding on to the buckets just a little longer than necessary when they passed them to me to make sure I could handle it and wasn't going to drop it. If, in fact, that was the case it seems like a kind thing to me now - but then it made me feel like a loser.

But even this experience was not the end of me. I fought against the lies that the enemy was throwing at me. I continued to work hard, squashing down the negative self talk. Making the best of it, I publicly made light of it and joked about our team member thinking I was such a wimp. It helped. I was overcoming. And then I got sick.

And then I got sick. Just writing it in italics cannot convey everything that that one little sentence means. I worked all of my third day ill. They needed some of us to come to the school to paint and I jumped at the chance for some easy work. Our team mate had viewed me as weak and now I truly was weak. The enemy pounced on his opportunity to drive that point home to me. I was weak. I was. And that physical weakness wore away at me until I began experiencing emotional weakness. Upon arriving at the school, we were surprised to see a huge pile of dirt in the middle of the surface that we were supposed to paint. Construction was in progress and there was no way for us to paint that day. The respite that I thought would soon be mine was not to be - so back to the Bucket Brigade I went. I did not want to do it, didn't think I could with how I was feeling, but there were too many empty spots. I was needed.

We use clocks and minutes to measure our time, but that all stopped for me as I took my place in line. I could think of nothing else but the next bucketful. I passed bucket after bucket and it became the way I calculated time. No longer was it 10:00 or 12:00. Now it was "one bucket closer to being done". I prayed. Oh, did I pray! I reminded myself over and over that God was my strength. And I did the work. Even in such a weakened state I had seen the day's task through to completion. I fell into my seat in the van and promptly burst into thankful tears. I had never in my life so truly experienced God being my strength. We read that in the Word and believe it to be true, but going through something like that makes it so real.

It was a victory for me, and I was overcoming. But the enemy wasn't gonna give up that easy. My sickness continued to progress to the point where I knew I needed nothing but water and sleep. Retiring to bed at 5:15, I skipped dinner and devotions that night. Fever had set in and I could not get warm. I took the hottest shower I could stand and put warm clothes on. I pulled my jacket's hood over my head, put socks on my hands and a thick folded up towel over my head, and settled in to sleep with three blankets. I felt defeated. I had successfully fought against the urge to withdraw when I felt hurt two days earlier, but now I had no choice but to physically separate myself. I did not want to be alone. I desperately wanted to be with the others - to be one of them even though I always feel so different. Instead I lay in my bed isolated from them and feeling every bit as tainted as the enemy wanted me to feel. I was sad. I missed my family.

Thankfully I awoke in the night in a pool of sweat. Praise God, my fever had broken. I got up and showered again to rid myself of the evidence of my weakness. I was back in business! Or at least I thought I was. Just because I felt so much better did not mean that the others would understand that. A few team members were very sensitive about germs and made it very plain to me. Here I thought that my time of being alone would be over. I can't explain the depth of my disappointment when I realized that I would still have to keep my distance in order to make others feel more at ease. It seemed like a cruel joke to finally be able to join them only to continue being alone. Loneliness is a very powerful emotion and it really broke me down. Lacking the community I craved effectively shut me down. I was away from everything normal in my life and that which would have afforded comfort was just beyond the reach of my fingertips. I felt like I had lost in so many ways.

Having said all of that, I don't want to make the mistake of throwing the baby out with the bath water. I have no doubt that I was supposed to go to Guatemala and that the Lord accomplished things through me being there. We helped those people. God enlarged our hearts toward one another and toward our Guatemalan friends. He marched us right up to the edge of a cliff and asked us to fling ourselves into His arms, surrendering all control to Him. We did that and He showed us over and over again that it wasn't about us. That it was about Him in every way.

When I came upon these mushrooms during our hike, I could distinctly sense that He was telling me something. I began searching my mind for all of the fungi facts that I had filed away over the years. I recalled that they often attach themselves to things that are dying. They feed on their hosts and break them down. My trip to Guatemala popped into my head. What of it, Lord? Hmmm... I had been surprised that I wasn't as strong as I had believed I was. I realized that I still had plenty of work to do. I had become down on myself and impatient with my journey. Why couldn't I just shake this stuff off and move on? I desire to be whole, and had actively worked towards it, so why was the enemy able to shake me as he had on the trip?

The Lord spoke to me about those unwanted things that had attached themselves to me while there. I thought of those mushrooms sucking the life force out of the tree stump they were affixed to. I could relate. I remembered how I had experienced that same draining of things that brought life to me. I had once again come face to face with my fears and had come out feeling like they had been the winners. But the Lord persisted. Don't you realize that I knew you would get sick? Don't you believe that it was part of My plan for you? Can you see no way that I can use that experience for good? Did you really think that it was all about you and what you wanted? What of what I want? Oh, my. Well, of course it could be used! I had sort of lost sight of that. I had lost focus. It wasn't about me and everything that is wrong with me. It was about Him and what He wanted to do in me and through me. And, obviously, that included me being sick and feeling alone. It had shown me that I was still susceptible to believing the worst about myself. It had shown me that I need to keep filling my head with His Truth and not give an inch to the enemy's lies.

I was fixated on the fact that the fears about my worth still had some power over me. Why couldn't I just win the victory already? But God, in His goodness, encouraged me. Those mushrooms have attached themselves to something that is dying. Yes, you had things fastened to you on your trip. You may not have wanted them to be there, but you were a perfect host because so many things are dying in you. WHAT?!!! You are making progress. Don't you forget what role those mushrooms play. Yes, they are often parasitic in nature. You know what that feels like. But don't forget that they are decomposers, breaking down the wood of that stump. The wood will not be the same in the end. Instead, it will have transformed into rich, life-giving soil. Tamra, you are being broken down in the same way. You will be changed! No, you are not there yet. That's okay. You will get there. I am making you into something that I can use to nourish and promote life in others. You keep telling others about what I am doing in you. You will get there. Just make sure you're honest about the journey. 

And so I try to do that. I think of the friend with sensory issues who was grossed out by the bumpy texture in this picture. She said that she would have wanted to scrape them all off to make it smooth. Don't we often do the same thing in life? Don't we instinctively try to avoid those things that make us uncomfortable? Speaking for myself, I can say that I have been tempted to long for less bumps along the way. But if I truly believe that He is in control I can rejoice even in those parts that are not as I would have preferred. He is going somewhere with every bit of it. I am so grateful for that.

A Thing of Beauty

What comes to mind when you think of a spring wildflower? Perhaps something pastel in color and delicately shaped? When I look at the Skunk Cabbage pictured above, a different sort of description comes to mind. I think of words like hardy, stout, unconventional, or prickly. Believe it or not, sitting here looking at this picture reminds me of a worker I encountered at Walmart recently.

I came upon her as I made my way to the housewares aisle. She was hoisting an over-sized box up near her head like it was nothing. I took a few seconds to notice a few things about her. She had a harshness about her. She was burly. Not very feminine in appearance. She seemed preoccupied by more than her work. Underlying her gruff exterior I sensed a certain vulnerability. My heart went out to her.

I was in a hurry, but I paused for just a second before her and said, "Watch it, now! You be careful lifting stuff up like that." The hardness crumbled just a bit and I smiled at her. It wasn't much, but a change came over her. Was it because someone cared about her? She visibly softened, returned my smile, and offered a thank you. And that was that.

I continued to think about her on the drive home. Not being much of a beauty myself in a worldly way, I wondered what she might believe about herself. Did she buy into the whole erroneous idea of what it means to be beautiful in our society? Did she realize her value? That she was lovingly made with a purpose?

As I've aged, my concept of beauty has broadened. It's been my experience that it is a rare occasion when youth has eyes to see beauty in all of its different forms. The flower at the top of this page is beautiful in its own way. Certainly not dainty, I'd describe it more along the lines of "earthy". Among the first flowers to burst forth in the spring, to me, it is always a glorious sight for sore eyes. The confining days of winter are drawing to an end and I know that the dying season is over - at least for a time. I appreciate the skunk cabbage's bold splashes of color. And that spiky ball at its center reminds me that some people guard their hearts with prickly exteriors in an effort to keep others at arm's length where they can't hurt them as easily.

Father, I lift up this beautiful young woman to You. I don't know much about her, not even her name, but You do. I wonder if she knows You? If not, would You please draw her lovingly to Yourself by Your Spirit? If she does know You, I pray that You would draw her even nearer to Your heart. Chase away any darkness in her - anything and everything that is not of You. Lord, would You help her to realize Your love for her? Cause that knowledge to permeate her thought processes and take root deep down in her heart, transforming her. Let Your unshakable love overcome her to Your glory. In the beautiful name of Jesus I pray, Amen. 

Bind Us Together

Aren't our bodies remarkable things? I look at this picture and marvel at how they have been created to heal themselves. Taken three months ago, the break that begins at the third screw and extends down through the fourth screw is no longer visible. It has totally regrown. I read once that bone, once it's healed, is actually stronger than it was to begin with. That's what I'm counting on in more ways than one. You see, I look at this image and it really isn't my husband's ankle post surgery. It's my marriage.

Today is our 22nd wedding anniversary. Beyond that, we began dating on this day the year before. Twenty-three years. Little did we know what we were getting ourselves into! He had baggage, I had baggage. I think I remember Beth Moore saying, "Baggage attracts baggage." Well, I guess so. Really, we were such broken individuals. And God, in His wisdom, thought it'd be a good idea for us to be together. I smile as I write that, but it has been so very hard.

With brokenness comes a lot of unhealthy behaviors. It hasn't been pretty, but God Himself has fought for us over the years. And here we are. Soon after my husband's accident, it became apparent to me that the Lord was doing something in us. It seemed that He was not content to have us continue on with a survival mindset. Our thoughts are not like His thoughts, but I really do think that He wanted to move us beyond that to a place of thriving. In order to do that, though, He needed to perform surgery on us.

Sure, we had made attempts over the years to heal. Despite our best efforts, the progress was minimal at best. Something a bit more drastic must be done. And so our Physician orchestrated events in such a way that we would undergo the knife. With scalpel in hand, He got to work. It was His good pleasure to open us up... go in and clean out the junk and debris... skillfully join the separated parts back together... add reinforcement... and stitch us together. Sounds wonderful, but in reality the healing process hurts. That kind of pain can make you desperate... and He does some of His best work with us when we are in that sort of place.

I look at this picture and notice that ten screws were used to fasten the plate in place. I've been pondering those ten screws the last month or so. What things has God been using to bind us securely together during this time of healing? Hmmm...

1. Prayer. So many prayers. We prayed alone, together, with others. Once, during an excruciating bout with withdrawal, John asked me to e-mail a prayer plea to some friends NOW. He needed back up for what he was going through. We got uncomfortably honest with a handful of people about how hard it was. What we were really going through. Believe me when I say that it got very bad.

2. Time. There are usually not too many quick fixes. We had to give it time despite our many frustrations and wishes that we could just be healed already. Just like bone takes time to regrow after a break, so does marital healing.

3. Courage. Wow, did I have to be courageous. If we had any hope of ever getting better, some things needed to be said and done. I came to learn that our codependency was off the charts. How had I never known what codependency was up to that point? I needed to learn to love in healthy ways. It was a whole new world for us. Definitely not a walk in the park, it was enough to make me want to give up several times. But love, real love, does what is best for the other. Not what is most convenient and not what will stir up the waters the least.

4. Forgive. I don't think this needs much explanation. Forgiveness is that thing that we all know we need to do, but do we really do it? I had to examine my heart and remember that forgiveness is a choice.

5. Draw close in physical intimacy rather than push one another away. Yes, I said it.

6. Follow doctor's orders. My stubborn husband was not icing his ankle like he was supposed to and it was not helping. In the same way, God gives us instructions in His Word that will promote healing... if we'd just listen.

7. Thankfulness. One of the first things I did after the accident was begin a list of things that I was thankful for. It helped to keep me positive and was my way of living out Philippians 4:8 - "Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable - if anything is excellent or praiseworthy - think about such things."

8. Affirmations. The ground seemed so uneven beneath our weary feet in the early phases. I noticed that it seemed that we didn't much believe one another when we said, "I love you." We needed to affirm our level of love and commitment to one another. One small thing we began implementing to combat this tendency was to answer one another's "I love you's" with, "Yes, you do." It might seem silly, but we needed all the help we could get. And I do think that it helped.

9. Persevere in communicating. I never thought that communication was our strong suit, but it became painfully obvious to me that it was even worse than I had imagined. We couldn't get it right even when we made very concentrated efforts. Oh, was it discouraging! We began reading The Love Dare together, which helped to break things down into very detailed and manageable pieces. It was a great opportunity for us to educate ourselves in what the other might be thinking, fearing, or needing. And it urged us to act on it in meaningful ways.

10. Trust the heart of God. In the darkest times when things seemed most futile, I needed to remind myself that He was doing something. It wasn't for nothing! He had a plan. He would redeem and restore. Most importantly, He would be glorified.

Father, on this 22nd wedding anniversary, I just want to give You praise. You are the God of the universe, full of power and might, and You still care enough to perform surgery on us. You are so wise and know the perfect timing for everything. You knew just when we would be most vulnerable and when You'd be able to work most effectively. You are our Great Physician, God. You have made us fearfully and wonderfully - You know us! Having made us, You also know what we need. More than anything, we need You. Cause us to love You above all other things. Draw us close to Yourself in a greater intimacy than we've ever known. And, please, continue Your healing work in our lives that You would receive much glory. In the strong name of Jesus I pray, Amen.

Where are you Looking? Part 2

I have been procrastinating long enough about writing this post! It had seemed like such a great idea at the time, but I now find myself dragging my feet for one reason or another. Had I not announced in the last one that I would be writing a part two, I am pretty sure that this post wouldn't have come about. At least not this soon. Since I like to do what I say I'm gonna do in a timely manner, it looks like I'd better find some words in a hurry. 

Lord, help me to express those things that will bless someone who reads this. You know what needs to be said... and how... and for whom. You also know how terrifying it is to share on this kind of level. Do Your thing! In the name of Jesus I pray, amen.

When I left off I had just recounted how the Lord had spoken to me during the process of looking back over my life. Because He doesn't do anything halfway, He had much more to speak to me about where I was looking. Specifically about what I was and was not looking for in my relationships. It started with me finding myself in a place where I had absolutely no recollection of something my husband had said during a conversation we had with a friend. I have a pretty great memory (a blessing and a curse), and I was surprised by this lapse in my cognitive abilities. I had been right there and hadn't the slightest remembrance of that entire part of the conversation? What in the world? I am thankful that the friend had enough guts to call me on it and offer some words of wisdom. He shared how a friend had told him that "we will find in others what we are looking for." In my case, I hadn't heard something that I wasn't listening for. You see, it was beginning to dawn on me that I had an agenda.

I know that I am not without sin and that my heart can deceive me. Still, I've got to be honest that I was disturbed by this. I highly value honesty and all of a sudden I was faced with the knowledge that I was deceiving myself. Ugh! I purposed to tackle it head on and see what the Lord might show me. From that point on I became keenly aware of what was happening/being said around me and how I was filtering each thing. Sure enough, I caught myself several times seeing things in a skewed way. Not surprisingly, I found myself doing this a lot with my husband. It may sound silly, but on any given day I have myself convinced that he totally despises me. I began to suspect that this probably wasn't the case, and that I should consciously look for evidence to the contrary. 

Two examples immediately spring to the forefront of my mind, the first being John's practice of backing in the car in for me. Knowing that I am a nervous driver and even passenger, he thoughtfully goes out of his way to do certain things to ensure that any trips I have to make will go smoothly. Besides backing in the car, he often programs the address into the GPS and mounts it, warms up the car, cleans the windows, makes sure I have gas, etc. All of this sounds great, right? How do I see it? Well, I get in the car (that I can now pull straight out of the driveway in!) and am overtaken by negative thoughts. Surely he must think that I possess inadequate driving skills and am incapable of driving well! His attempt to love me is totally blocked by my uncanny ability to flip it around into something that it isn't. Can't have anyone loving me, now can I?

Similarly, I caught myself misreading an exchange we had about skydiving. I had shared a desire to do so and had been met by his outright refusal. He pointed out that it seemed safe because more and more people were doing it, but that people were bound to start having fatal accidents. He had then said, "And you are way too valuable to our family." Seems pretty straightforward, doesn't it? That's not at all what I heard. I heard, "You are never allowed to have any fun. I will control what you can and cannot do, however, I can do whatever I please." Unbelievable! It took me about a day to catch what I was doing, which was deflecting any possibility of him caring. To me, there was no way that it could have anything to do with him loving me, so I needed to turn it into him desiring to control me. Sigh! Why do I do this?!!!

I began realizing that I have a tendency to hyper focus on things that will "prove" that I am not loved. Personal failures on the part of anyone I come into contact with can somehow become evidence that I do not deserve love. I have became a pro at seeing what I want to see. Bit by bit I have stocked my own little arsenal of weapons. If someone gets too close, I need only pull one out to create a little space. I do this with my husband, family, friends, just about anyone. As much as I welcome intimacy, I have really begun to see how I project things upon people in accordance with the way I am sure they must feel about me. It all boils down to me, once again, not believing what my Father says about me.

It is almost like scales have been falling from my eyes. When I really began looking for ways that John and others were loving me I was overwhelmed. I was seeing love everywhere and it had always been there! Subconsciously, I have always believed that I am not worthy of love. I have carefully built my case to support it and have deliberately used weapons to protect that belief. And now I have to ask myself what am I so afraid of? 

The pictures I am using for this post are of the spring wildflower Star-of-Bethlehem. Wishing to find it, I was surprised when I discovered it in our backyard. Really hoping it was the real thing, I had run in the house and retrieved my field guide. Everything seemed to line up just so, but I was still looking for that one thing that might cement my ID. I read on and discovered that there is a green stripe going down the center of the underside of the petal. How exciting! I couldn't wait to flip over a petal to see if the stripe was there. If you look back at the top picture you will notice that the stripe is not visible. It would take some looking to see it. And so I am discovering that if I want to be everything that God is calling me to be, I will have to start consciously looking for love from those He places my life.



I love You, Father. You love me... and, wonder of wonders, other people love me. I am sitting here allowing those truths to sink in. You have painstakingly dealt with me in this area for what seems like forever, Lord! You are so very patient with me. Though I find myself slipping into my old ways of thinking from time to time, I really have felt that I have made vast improvements as far as believing Your love for me. That was a start, but it seems that You desired to carry that over into my other relationships. Did You think it was time to shake things up because I was finally feeling more secure in Your love? Whatever the case, I am so grateful that You are always building me. Thank You for this reminder to look for the love that I so often refuse to see. I confess that I have blinded myself from seeing healthy expressions of love from those You've placed in my life. Forgive me, please. Since You are the Great Physician, I pray that You will align my vision. As I seek to obey You in this, would You please help it to come more naturally for me? I want to live in a way that pleases You. In the name of Jesus I pray, amen. 

Where Are You Looking? Part 1

As we prepare to close out 2013 it seems that the Lord has been revisiting a theme that He introduced to me this spring. This photo was taken on the last day of April and I had this to say about it on Facebook: 

"I have Dara-Grace to thank for this beautiful picture. We got our school work out of the way early today and went for a hike. Because it's getting pretty warm out there, she paused to sit and rest on some steps about midway up. As I approached her, I noticed her sitting there with a very pensive face. Just as I reached her she said, "You know, Mom, it's very pretty right here." I took a second to turn and take in the view that had captivated her. Yep, she was right - I found it quite pretty as well. I'm not in the habit of looking at the view behind me as I struggle up stairs. I guess I've been missing out."

I had been struck at the time by the thought that perhaps looking at the things behind me might be beneficial. I've discovered that I am a very goal-oriented and determined person. If I am in the midst of a struggle I tend to surge forward toward whatever end I have in sight for myself. I would have missed this beautiful sight had I not paused to take the time to experience it. Hmmm... What might I be missing on a spiritual level by not taking some time to look back over the "trail" I've covered thus far in my life? 

My friends know that I have no problem whatsoever tapping into or sharing my feelings. However, the particulars of what the Lord began speaking to me last spring proved to be elusive. It is only after many months that I feel remotely capable of putting any of it into words. As I thought about what I would say, I began to see that I would need to do something I've never done on my blog: break a post into two parts. Too many details would need to be left out in the interest of keeping it at a manageable reading size. My detail-loving self could not let that happen! Having said that, I'll continue with the story.

After the aforementioned hiking incident I walked along with the Lord for weeks allowing myself to really take a look back. One of the first things He brought to my attention was the way I have been negatively shaped by my father's leaving. It all started innocently enough with a song on the car radio while picking up my son from work. The opening lines of New Man by All Things New caught my attention in a way that startled me:

I can remember when he left
It's still pounding in my chest
The pain I felt when he said goodbye

As soon as I heard it, I was transported thirty-five years back in time. I remembered my mom urging me to go tell my dad goodbye and "make sure you tell him you love him." This was nothing new to me. He had always been in and out of our home and I was used to goodbyes. This was different, though. Mom went on to explain that, this time, Dad was leaving and not coming back. 

My mind drifted to that day. I was five, maybe six, years old. I remember the scene as if it happened yesterday. Walking into the bedroom, I came upon my father standing before an opened suitcase that rested on the end of the bed. Hair dryer in hand, he wound the cord around it in a very precise way. Looking back, I wonder if it was easier for him to concentrate on that act of wrapping the cord than face the daughter he was leaving behind. Did he feel sorry in that moment? I dutifully gave him an awkward hug and told him I loved him. He placed his hairdryer in the suitcase and that was that. For whatever reason, this particular memory has always stuck with me.

I don't remember how soon the revelation came after initially sensing the Lord speaking to me about looking back, but a thought occurred to me soon thereafter that blew me out of the water. You see, I realized that all of these years later I do not own a hair dryer. I haven't had one in my home for over twenty years. More than two decades of brushing out my long hair and going places with it wet. I knew that on a subconscious level I was probably protecting myself from the pain of that devastating memory. It made perfect sense and I couldn't believe that I had never made the connection. 

Fast forward several months and our area was experiencing a cold spell. I got up and showered before going to volunteer for the Metro Parks. I would be sitting outside for two and a half hours signing Fall Hiking Spree forms... in the cold... with wet hair. I was gonna freeze and I wasn't relishing the thought of it. For the first time I really began to feel grumbly about the whole thing. I realized that I had been going out in the cold with my wet hair for all of my adult life... and that I wasn't content to do that anymore. I had this to say to a friend: 

"I decided that I think it stinks that that incident should still be affecting me at age 41. The too tight skin split and I stepped out more fully formed and free from something that bound me."

I resolved right then and there that it was going to stop. I would buy a hair dryer and finally face what I had been avoiding for way too long. At the time of this writing, the hair dryer has been purchased just in time for some wintry weather that arrived today. I am grateful that there will be no more feeling like my head is stuck frozen in a block of ice when I leave the house! 

Father. I bow before You pausing to let that word sink in... Father. I am Your daughter and I am humbled to be called Yours. Thank You for always wanting the very best for me and for the way that You redeem. You are good! You've fearfully and wonderfully made me, Lord. Who but You can know how this mind of mine works? It amazes me that there is so much in there that I am not even aware of - stuff that I carry with me each day and that has a bearing on how I do life. Protect me, Lord, against the evil that the enemy would seek to level against me. Cause long-standing strongholds to crumble and fall. Give me wisdom to walk with You in freedom. Help me to see what things I must next tackle head on in my way to being who You made me to be. Grant me eyes to see and ears to hear that I may bring much glory to You. In the strong and beautiful name of Jesus I pray, Amen. 

Return to Me

My daughter snapped this picture for me on the drive home from a special overnight trip that we Harrison ladies enjoyed last year. We had gone to an inn that we adore and had invited a good number of people to join us. We were overjoyed when a few actually decided to take us up on our offer. In the end, though, all had to cancel for one reason or another. Bummer! To make matters worse, we were greeted with very wintery weather for the drive down and our pre-paid Visa card would not work once we arrived. While a great time was had by each of us, that unwelcome guest, Stress, seemed determined to accompany us on that trip. Thankfully, we didn't pay him much mind.

The drive home provided some truly beautiful sights, but this is the one that we chose to capture. I wanted to share it for two reasons, the first of which is that darkness was moving in. The sun was dropping toward the horizon and a storm was on the way.

This week kicks off the holiday season and, for many, it will not usher in happiness. To them, it feels a whole lot as if there is a dimmer switch on every aspect of their lives. Since things have a way of feeling magnified for those who are hurting, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year can be nightmarish. Financial pressures abound, loved ones are missing, families have unresolved squabbles, and Pain decides to not only visit, but unpack its bags and stay a while. Darkness spreads, storm clouds threaten, and some find themselves fervently wishing that they could hit the fast forward button.

I know as well as anyone what it feels like when Darkness elbows its way in on me. Though intensely personal, I can't shake the feeling that sharing about one such time period in my own life may help someone feel a bit less alone in their pain. Having said that, let the story begin...

Last week I received a few e-mails about participating in a Scripture exchange. I was to write down the first verse that popped into my mind and mail it to the person with the number one next to their name. I was then supposed to move the number two person into the number one position and forward the request to twenty of my friends. It was to be a go-to verse that had been a source of strength to me during a challenging time.

Oh, I had such a verse, but I just could not follow through on the forwarding part. Over the years, my motto has largely become, "If it causes stress, eliminate it!" I wasn't about to invite the stress that would accompany my participation. However, I did want to share my verse (and the story that accompanies it) with someone. Consequently, I decided to send it on to the four names that were listed in my e-mails and leave it at that. I guess I kind of made up my own stress-free rules.

Here is what I shared with them:

Sorry guys, but I'm gonna sit this out due to not wanting to send on to 20 people.

For the record, the first verse that popped into my head was the first part of Psalm 4:7 in the NKJV: "You have put gladness in my heart..."God gave it to me during a very depressed time in my life when I turned my back on Him. Did not open my Bible, pray, or say "amen" to any prayer John prayed over me every morning in a panic. Did not sing at church and cried through nearly every sermon. In the midst of my initial clumsy attempts to come back to Him, He brought this verse to my attention. I was anything but glad at the time. Nothing could have been further from the truth. But I knew I had heard it from Him and so clung to that Word as if my life depended on it, repeating it over and over (sometimes screaming it or sobbing it) when the darkness hounded me. He is faithful. Bit by bit, those seven words did help dispel those things that would torment. It's hard to give words to the depth of it, but hopefully you get the gist.

And this brings us to the second reason I wanted to use this picture. I look at it and remember that special time. The things that were so very stressful then seem so much less now. I remember all of the wonderful moments and want to make another visit to the place where they occurred. I want to return.

I failed to share the details of my coming back to the Lord with the ladies I sent the above e-mail, but I'll do that here. It was probably a decade or so ago and the weight of life circumstances had become unbearable. I was in a true crisis of faith. Everything I had believed up to then all of a sudden seemed like a big fat lie. I was propelled to a place of extreme anger and bitterness towards the Lord and my situation. Finally, I decided that I'd had enough. Enough! If this was what being His carried with it - what it would cost me... well, then the price was just too much to pay. Unforgiveness wormed its way deep into my heart and I suddenly understood David's Psalms about sleepless nights and feeling God's hand weighing heavily on me. There would be no relief for quite some time.

After months of this, I unwillingly found myself in a ladies Bible study. It was one of those where the sincerity of many of the participants might be questioned because material goods were involved. Women were able to use vouchers to buy diapers or other necessities after first attending the Bible study. As is often the case, many of the women would endure the study to get something free at its completion. So there I sat in my rebellion wishing to be somewhere else. I, who once had a thriving relationship with the Lord, was nothing more than an empty shell. I don't know if the leader sensed that she needed to depart from that day's material or what, but she decided to open the floor and allow women to share a verse that God had meaningfully used in their lives.

The room was pretty silent. It was fairly safe to assume that few of the women took much time to read their Bibles in order to hear what God had for them. And there sat me at the end of a three-month long period where I had refused to give Him any chance to speak to me. Three entire months without opening my Bible! Three entire months of stubbornly refusing to allow God to penetrate my heart during worship. Three entire months of being unmoved by any desperate prayer offered on my behalf. Three entire months of vengeful thinking. Three entire months of darkness like I'd never known before.

It became apparent in the lengthening silence that somebody was going to have to share something. I searched the recesses of my mind for something, anything, that I could offer just to end the awkward silence. Timidly, the woman next to me spoke up: "I'm not so good with verses as far as knowing exactly what's in the Bible and I can't remember a specific verse from any particular time in my life. But there have been times when I needed God's help for a decision that I had to make and I opened the Bible to some random spot and placed my finger somewhere on the page without looking. I can't explain it, but it has always worked! The verse has always gone along with whatever it was that I needed help with."

Because my heart was in such a hardened state, I felt contempt towards this simple woman rising in me. I did not have time for such nonsense! I allowed the enemy to egg my thought processes on concerning the utter stupidity of this woman's reasoning. As my mind continued to rail against her she went on to share what her random finger pointing had produced at that precise moment: "Return to me, and I will return to you,' says the LORD Almighty." You can be assured that I was stopped dead in my tracks.

I knew it was for me. I couldn't have been more sure if He had been sitting right there beside me speaking directly to me. Suddenly the floodgates were opened and three months of pent up anger and frustration came spilling forth in a flood of tears. It was something! I shared with the ladies and so began the slow and painful climb up and out of the depths.

It was just after this life-changing occurrence in my life that I needed something specifically from God to endure. You see, none of my circumstances had changed when I walked out of Bible study that afternoon. On the contrary, I was left with knowing that the God of the universe had spoken to me and that He was expecting me to do something with it. Which meant that I needed to find a way to survive each day until the day arrived when it would begin to feel a little less like survival and more like normal life. And so He had given me the Scripture, "You have put gladness in my heart..." What a love gift it was from His heart to mine.

That's my story and I'm sticking with it!

Father, thank You that we are not alone when darkness envelops us. Because You are light and in You there is no darkness at all, we who know You can be assured that we will never be in total darkness. Let the light of Your presence flood us, Lord! How glad I am that You ever so graciously speak to us in our times of need, drawing us closer to Your heart. Where would I, or any of us, be without You? How grateful I am to be Your dearly loved daughter. 

Holding On

 Last weekend ushered in beautiful weather. Since some of the guys in our household were behind in the Fall Hiking Spree, we took the opportunity to tuck two more trails under our belts. While driving along, this leaf hit our antenna in such a way that its curled edge enabled it to cling in place. Amused, I watched other leaves swirling here and there while this one stayed put.

I was fascinated with this simple scene! I've shared what a whirling mess my life has felt the last several months. Watching this leaf, I knew well that feeling of being blown to and fro. And I definitely could relate to that feeling of holding on for dear life.

A slight smile spread across my face as I sensed God's voice. "Take a picture. I'm about to show you something here." Sliding the iPod from my purse, I noticed that I didn't have much time to capture the shot. I spied a stop sign nearby and realized what was about to happen. Without the driving wind supporting the leaf, I knew that it would slide down the antenna... and fall away. Oh.

Wow! Isn't that so like life? Overwhelmed, we are tossed here and there. Choices are made for us that we just don't have much control over. It gets rough... and we tend to cling to God during these times. Speaking for myself, I often wonder how desperately I would hold on to Him without the winds of adversity battering me. How easily might I fall away?

Lord, I stand amazed at your wisdom. You know just what I need. Though I grow weary from the tossing, I acknowledge that it is the very thing that has kept me fastened to You. You are good and anything that draws me nearer to You cannot ultimately be looked at as bad. Help me to recognize this more readily. Strengthen me to joyfully cooperate with whatever it is You're doing in me and through me. I don't want to fall away! Thank You for keeping me close to You. May my soul cling to You always. In the name of Jesus I pray, amen.

Life in a Puddle

This picture ended up being a highlight from my 41st birthday celebration. The girls and I took off and spent that early July day tackling a ten-mile extreme hike. After leaving our first three miles behind us we came upon this shallow mud puddle brimming with tadpoles right on our trail. We nearly walked by without noticing, but I was fortunate enough to glance down just in time to discover them. What a sight! We delighted in them, happily sharing the picture with others later that night.

 

I've thought of those tadpoles many times in the past four months. Like it or not, there is much for me to hear from the Lord from this picture. You see, the more I thought of these tadpoles the more I realized that they could very well be doomed. After the initial wonder of finding them in such an unusual place had worn off, it occurred to me that a stretch of warm days could very well dry up their watery home. What would become of them then?

 

It seemed pretty obvious to me that this was far from being an ideal habitat for them. Amphibians lay their eggs in vernal pools all of the time, but this mud puddle hardly seemed to qualify as one. I've seen substantial vernal pools during Metro Parks programs, and this puddle is nowhere near the same. Looking back, I cannot remember if that stretch of mud-puddle-drying, hot temperature days ever arrived. Or if they had, if the tadpoles had already fully developed and moved on beforehand. What I do know is that they were deposited in this place through no fault of their own when their mother laid her eggs there. Even though danger may have been lurking just days away they were doing what they were made to do: swimming around, eating, and developing. They were doing life the same way they would have had they gotten their start in a more favorable place.

 

How I can relate! The waters of my life sure seem pretty muddy these days. Things can start looking a bit grim whenever I forget that I'm not supposed to "worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own" (Matthew 6:54). During times of weakness I glance around and it seems to me that the scorching winds of adversity sure seem to be shrinking this mud puddle that I've been placed in. And what would become of me then? 

 

These past few months and weeks have been really tough. I've shared with some that this summer was particularly brutal. Overwhelming circumstances and bouts with illness kept me in bed for a few months. During those days I got up to do what I had to do, but always with a return to bed as quick as possible. I did enjoy a respite from time to time, but those moments were always short-lived. I stayed in the Word and put on my prayer warrior cap once again. And I just kept doing the next thing. Swimming around in my little mud puddle if you will.

 

If I don't get in my head too much, the mud puddle really isn't that bad. The tadpoles need water to survive and the puddle fits that bill just fine. Sure, it may be evaporating away minute by minute, but it gets the job done for a time... hopefully the time the tadpoles need to fully develop. And there is the advantage of not having any fish swimming around snatching them up for a meal.

 

So what of my little mud puddle? Several things come to mind when I think on this. My puddle feels a little messy right now. It also seems a precarious place to dwell at times. It requires me to focus on today - on this day when I do have just enough water to survive. I can be thankful even though my mud puddle is nothing like the thriving ponds that some of my friends have been deposited in. God knows what He is doing! Acts 17:26 reminds me that "He determined the times set for them and the exact places where they should live." How very comforting! He has not haphazardly placed me here. I can trust that He has positioned me here and will use it to prepare me for the next place He has for me.

 

I can sometimes zero in on a certain piece of the puzzle and totally miss the bigger picture that is forming. In this instance, I have come to realize that the enemy has effectively used my fear of what might happen to blind me to what is happening and what will happen. If I am like one of those tadpoles, I need to realize that they don't stay tadpoles forever! They swim and eat and grow legs. Eventually they drop their little tails and move on when they reach maturity. And that's what I'm doing, too.

 

It doesn't matter that I'm in a mud puddle. The important thing is that I do those things that this stage of life calls for. I can swim through my days caring for my family, homeschooling, and loving others. I can stay in the Word and grow my spiritual legs. One blessed day I will have done all the growing that accompanies this stage and I will drop my tail, leaving behind that thing which I no longer have need of. I will walk out of this puddle and move on to the next place that God has for me. And you can bet that I'll be giving Him all of the praise as I go on my way. What a thing to look forward to.

 

Precious Father, it's so good to hear from You again! Soften my heart and sharpen my ears that I may hear You more and more. Thank You for the reminder that this stage in my life is temporary. I was in need of a bit of reassurance and You provided it in a way that You knew would enable me to "get it." You are so good to me! As I swim about my days in this place that You presently have me, I ask that You help me focus on the here and now, doing all of those things that today requires of me. Unlike the tadpoles, I can be sure that this puddle You have me in will not dry up until it has fulfulled everything You want it to. You are growing me here and I'm most grateful. I love You. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Who Am I?

I had one of those, "Wait a minute!!!" moments while spending some time in Acts this morning. I was reading through Stephen's speech to the Sanhedrin in chapter seven. I hesitated just a bit when I got to his description of Moses in verse 22: "Moses was educated in all the wisdom of the Egyptians and was powerful in speech and action."  I specifically zeroed in on the part about him being powerful in speech. What? Wasn't this the guy who told God in Exodus, "I have never been eloquent... I am slow of speech and tongue"? What gives?

Pausing to give it some extra thought, I reminded myself that all Scripture is inspired by the Holy Spirit and can be counted on as being true. If the writer of Acts said that Moses was powerful in speech then he was. Simple as that. The explanation, then, must be that Moses simply did not see himself as God did.

Maybe he did not have much self-confidence. He did tell God, "Who am I, that I should go to Pharaoh and bring the Israelites out of Egypt?" That question doesn't exactly smack of confidence. Or maybe the confidence he did have had been tied up in the privileged life he used to live. Did he falter when his dwelling switched from a palace in Egypt to a tent in Midian? Is my own confidence (or lack of) connected to my material station in life? This is certainly something to consider.

Another possibility for Moses' distorted view of himself is that he simply had not learned to fully trust God. When he asked God, "Who am I...?", the Lord had assured him that He'd be with him. He had given him a step by step commentary of what to expect, and had even given him miraculous signs to perform. Thinking on this, it is pretty amazing how much the Lord was working with Moses here! He had a plan for Moses and fully intended to help him fulfill it. Yet Moses still hung back. Why was it so hard for him to trust God and do what He wanted him to do? Why is it so hard for me ?

I included the above picture with this post to illustrate the point I'd like to make. The birds in some of our local Metro Parks allow us to hand-feed them. Well, some of them do - but not the cardinals. There have been reports of a few people successfully feeding them by hand, but it is not usually the case. The day that this picture was taken was particularly blustery. We stood for many chilly minutes waiting on this beautiful cardinal to eat from my daughter's hand. He really thought about it! He hopped closer and closer, eyeing the food in her hand that would fill his belly. How we wished he would come! In the end, though, he was not trusting enough to come any nearer.

I feel like it can be the same with me and the Lord! He is before me with an outstretched hand full of the good He has for me, and I am afraid to come too near Him. I know He has things for me that will nourish my spirit, yet I stubbornly cling to my feelings of fear and unworthiness. How sad.

Father, You are good. Forgive me for the times when I fear the route that your goodness will take to work in my life. Help me to trust You more and more, joyfully accepting whatever comes from your hand. Feed me, Lord! Draw me closer and closer to Yourself, that I might walk intimately with You in an unafraid manner. Free me from everything that puts distance between you and me, that I may worship You. Help me to see myself the way that You do - as Your chosen and dearly loved daughter. I love You. In the name of Jesus I pray, Amen.

Bitter Provision

I took this celebratory picture to commemorate nearing the bottom of my last bowl of mixed Italian greens. Since a friend's garden had yielded way more than she could use, she had brought me two gallon-size baggies of them. Her family had been doing their best to make their way through them, but were not enjoying them as thoroughly as they may have hoped. I listened as she showed me which ones were which and what she had discovered about the taste of each. I joyfully accepted her gift, rejoicing in God's provision of fresh veggies for my family.

Soon thereafter I grabbed a few handfuls, washed the leaves, finely chopped them, and used them to garnish a chowder I had made for dinner. The first bite, reminiscent of dandelion greens, made me feel as though it might take me a while to use up the remainder. Boy were they bitter! Stubborn enough to keep up the fight, I determinedly ate my way through those two bags of greens over a period of about a week and a half.

I shared in my last post about my fear of God providing for me. There was no doubt in my mind that He had provided these ultra-healthy greens and I was going to eat them. But why did they have to taste so bitter??? Isn't the same thing true about so much of what is good for us in this life?

As I chomped one or two big salads each day, I pondered other things that my loving Father has provided along the way that have seemed so bitter to me. A broken childhood home. A sometimes difficult marriage. Financial insecurity. (Earthly) father hunger. Special needs parenting. Loneliness. I could not argue that, while not pleasant, these things were truly good for me in the long run. Each and every circumstance has had a way of reminding me of my need for Him and of drawing me closer to Him. I feel more and more these days that He is trying to drive home the fact that I am just not Home yet. I am never going to find the things that I long for here on earth.

I have previously mentioned that I am particularly fascinated by the way that the book of Jonah speaks of God's provision. He provided a great fish to swallow Jonah, a vine to shield him from the sun, a worm to cause the vine to wither, and a scorching east wind to cause him to feel faint. I am struck by God's wisdom in sending each thing in order to get His point across to Jonah. How skillfully He uses that which makes us uncomfortable! Our spiritual states are infinitely more important to our Lord than our comfort.

And so I press on, realizing all the while that each bitter instance of provision is part of God's plan for my life. He knows me through and through and will handily use earthly cares to work on my heart. He will sometimes provide a bit of comforting shade along the way, but will not hesitate to take it away at the exact moment that it is needed. Not only will He, at times, take away things that are comforting to me, He may then send something along the lines of the scorching wind to turn up the heat and really make me uncomfortable. It will often be during these very times that I will draw closer to the heart of God. None of us really look forward to these instances, but they are a necessary part of our sanctification.

Precious Father, You are good and Your love endures forever. Your ways are not like our ways for Yours are far superior! Thank You for giving us Jonah's story in Your Holy Word. How often I, like Jonah, want to do my own thing. I am tempted to be happy when You provide things that add to my comfort, but want to have a pity party when You send the things that are meant to teach me and drive me into Your arms. Forgive me once again for being so slow to cooperate with You in this way. Thank You for grace.

Your dearly loved daughter.

A Familiar Place

 

 

 

It feels a bit strange to have a picture of crayons at the top of this post rather than something from the natural world like usual. But the name of this blog is Speak 2 Me, and the Lord definitely spoke to me where these crayons were concerned. So a crayon picture it is!

 

I had been doing a cleaning/de-cluttering project and decided to clean out our crayon bucket on a whim. I dumped out the container with a sense of purpose. This time I would only keep crayons that were totally intact. I began sorting. Unbroken crayons with at least some point went back into the bucket, and all the others went into a giant pile. The above picture is just a portion of the several hundred that I culled that day.

 

I loved how tidy the remaining crayons looked in their now roomy container. I let out a contented sigh and prepared to throw the others away... but a funny thing happened. I found my hands hovering in the air above the crayons in a sort of paralyzed way. All of a sudden I was thinking of how many different ways I could use these broken crayons: creating pictures by painting with the melted crayons, making candles, decorating t-shirts, coloring backgrounds of pictures by laying them on their sides, melting them into mega crayons, etc... In that moment, I decided to wait to throw them away until later.

 

I can hardly believe it, but I walked around that pile of crayons for the better part of four or five hours. Each time I paused to pitch them, I became deeply distressed and just could not bring myself to do it. I got online and read articles about how many crayons end up in landfills and I battled with the thought that a responsible person would not just waste all of those crayons. There must be something I could do besides throwing them away!

 

Yet the thought of keeping them filled me with dread. I'd still be swimming in clutter and they'd zap my mental energy. Every time we attempted to use the crayons we'd have to pick our way through the mangled ones just to get to a reliable one. I'd have more to clean up. Still, I reasoned that I could scoop up the "bad" crayons and store them in a baggie until I was ready to use them for some creative pursuit. But I'd then have to store them somewhere! And for how long? I thought of how they could be there for years longer and how I'd likely condemn myself each time I looked at them, realizing how I still had not done anything with them yet. No, I did not need that.

 

After going through this entire mental process, I purposed to just throw them away. I snatched the trash can, grabbed a handful of crayons... and stopped again, conflicted. Unbelievably, my heart hammered away in my chest and I felt the effects of anxiety. Finally there was that still, small voice cluing me in that something bigger was actually going on. 

 

Don't you realize why you're struggling so to throw them away? It's really not about the crayons at all. You are afraid that you will not have what you need. It all boils down to you not believing that I will provide. And maybe, just maybe, you think that this is all you deserve to have.

 

Well, He really had me there! Somewhere along the way I have begun to mistake the Lord's chosen method of providing for me for something that it isn't. In my heart, I think that I have believed that I must be lacking... or else things would surely be different, right? It seems silly, I know, but I struggle not to equate stability with the Lord's favor. I look around and see others who don't seem to have a care in the world and I wonder if they are doing something very right to be so "blessed." I will myself to be content and remind myself that there are entire people groups who have so much less than me - and it doesn't necessarily mean that God is against them.

 

When the crayon incident occurred, I was very shaken. I kept chiding myself about how ridiculous I was behaving. Really, like the God of the universe was not capable of providing more crayons for my family should we ever desperately need them. Had He not provided much more on so many occasions? Just think of it!!! If I had such a hard time where something as minor as the crayons were concerned, how was I ever to trust Him in the bigger things?

 

I have found myself on a very slippery slope for the past few months. No matter the time spent sitting at the Lord's feet, I have lost ground in the area of believing His love for me. Circumstances have a way of clouding your vision and ushering in confusion. What seemed so clear just yesterday doesn't appear quite the same in today's light. This whole walking by faith not by sight thing can be tough! Life's waters rise and I am weary.

 

So far I have been able to outpace the clutches of that monster, Legalism, though he repeatedly tries to snare me. Maybe God will love you more if you eat the right foods... listen to the right music... serve more... die more to self... think the right thoughts... and on and on. I daily go to war against the thoughts that try to wiggle their way into my heart in order to take up residence and become beliefs that wrap around my ankles causing me to stumble during my race. It is exhausting! I'd say nearly impossible, but it's a good thing that all things are possible with my God.

 

Lord, thank You for being the Lifter of my head when I feel weary. Thank You for always pursuing me with Your unfailing love, though I am slow to accept it at times. Thank You for Your protection and provision. You are so gracious and generous to me! Thank You that I can never do anything to make You love me more or less. You are unchanging, the same yesterday, today, and forever. 

 

I am blessed by Your gentle reminder (once again) that I am not fully trusting You to take care of me. I'm so sorry to be walking down this same road yet again! Forgive me. Help me as I fight the urge to do this or that in a subconscious effort to make myself more lovable to You. Please gift me with the ability to truly rejoice with those who rejoice without slipping into analyzing why You are blessing them while choosing a more difficult path for me. I am Yours to do with as You please. In the beautiful name of Jesus I pray, amen. 

 

 

 





 



 

 

  

 

 

A Blessing?

This was the year that I finally touched base with a friend who is always looking for eager mulberry pickers to take advantage of all that her four trees have to offer. The berries ripen in late spring and provide a feast for the birds. Long gone are the days when an army of neighborhood kids would come with pails to collect their bounty. They've all grown or moved away, and the birds can only gobble up so much. Which means that thousands upon thousands of berries simply go to waste.

I arrived at her home with a few mixing bowls and a small step ladder. I was woefully underprepared! I really don't know what I was thinking. Maybe I was expecting that the "trees" would be more like bushes. You know, like "Here we go 'round the mulberry bush..." In reality, they were huge - much larger than our ladder could reach. The berries seemed limitless - much more than our bowls could contain. In what seemed like no time at all, our bowls were filled and a few sandwich baggies were produced for us to use. I could not believe how much fruit she had right there in her yard for the taking. I imagined all of the ways she could put the mulberries to use and kept telling her what a blessing her trees were. Yet, even as I said this, I thought of how that just did not seem to be the case for her.

I had been ecstatic to have the pleasure of picking all of that free food. What a joy for my fingers to seek out and pluck the plump berries with the birds looking on and expressing their displeasure with us concerning our thievery! My friend, on the other hand, had mulberries all over her driveway and yard. We squished berries with each step and she shared how they had twice replaced their carpeting when their children were young. We literally had a good inch and a half of berries on the bottoms of our shoes as we walked around gathering. The sheer volume of berries was overwhelming and the thought of how many of them just fall to the ground and rot each year was a bit depressing. I could see how the berries might not seem like much of a blessing to her.

Isn't it the same with so many things in life? What is great to one may seem terrible to another. As I pondered this I began to take this whole concept a bit deeper. I thought of instances in my life that have proved to be a blessing to others, but didn't at all feel that way to me. One of the greatest examples that comes to mind is the blessing that others receive by watching us cling to God through special needs parenting.

It's been almost four years since I sat in that doctor's office and began to absorb his callous words about my youngest child. I had asked what all of this would mean. What kind of quality of life would he have? Would he live independently down the road or should we prepare ourselves for institutionalization? His response? "Well, if I had a crystal ball to gaze into the future I could tell you what things will be like for your son. But since I don't, I can't." So many hopes and dreams died in an instant right then and there.

Life had not been easy up to that point, but I had clung to the hope that blessing was just around the corner. I knew that God would be faithful to us if we'd only follow hard after Him. We'd been leading a life that felt a bit nomadic with us moving around every few years. There was no steady, fulfilling, or well-compensating job to hold us. We seemed to be lacking in relationships - always feeling a bit out of place and awkward. No Sunday dinner with family or big birthday/anniversary celebrations. With no student loans, credit card debt, or mortgage to pay off, I began to think that God might send us into the mission field! It made perfect sense to me. I smile now to think of how I lived each day fully expecting my husband to announce that he was answering God's call to pack up our family and go to __________. I couldn't wait to discover what God's great plan was for us.

Sitting in that office, everything that I had fought so hard to make sense of just kind of slipped through my fingers. No, the explanation that I had come up with was not going to be the case. We were back to square one. We would not just pick up one day and move to some distant land to which God was calling us to serve Him. No, He was calling us to stay... at home... with no answers... with even more stresses than we had to begin with... trusting Him throughout... remaining faithful to Him... and inviting others to watch us navigate the sometimes murky waters of parenting our little guy... fully depending on His power and grace all the while.

And so I live each day on the mission field to which He has called me here at home. Always pushed beyond what I can handle, and always with an audience. God shapes me with a faithfulness that is so far beyond my comprehension. He means good for me and I can trust that He is moving all things toward that end. My only job is to love Him and follow His leading. He will take care of the rest.

I bow before You, precious Father, and look to You for rest. I humbly ask that You be my everything. When I begin to wonder if this journey that I am on is a result of my sin or if You are showing Your displeasure with me through it, help me to feel and believe Your love. When I remember the friend who warned me against having a fifth child, telling me that "Children can be blessings, but not all children are blessings from God," help me to see my son for the blessing that he is. Lord, I recall how adamant I was with her in my insistence that all children are blessings. I pray that Your grace will chase away the doubt when I wonder if I shouldn't have listened to her and fear that I am only getting what I deserve. I need You, Lord. Every day. Every hour. Continue to use our precious boy to bless others and point to You. Let others see You in me as I do this thing that You have entrusted me with. Thank You for the joys and thank You for the hardships, for You are found in both. I love you more deeply with each passing day and look forward to the time when I will finally be home with You. In the beautiful name of Jesus I pray, amen.

The Firing

I am actively praying about what I sense the Lord is speaking to me these days. I'll do my best to explain, but the things of the heart can be a slippery thing to grasp at times. How much harder to attempt to translate those things into words for others!

In the weeks leading up to Easter, I became aware that our church would soon be starting a series on forgiveness. I felt a little something stir in me upon hearing that little tidbit. I wondered, "Are you getting ready to do a work in me, Lord? I could not shake the feeling that He did, indeed, have something in mind for me.

But first Easter. Before getting to the forgiveness series, there was the matter of Easter.  Now, worshiping on holidays can be an iffy proposition for me due to the crowds and my anxiety levels. I have realized little victory in this area no matter how much I tell myself that it is about the honor, glory, and praise due God and NOT my physical and/or emotional comfort. The night before Easter I had already made up my mind: I would be staying home while the family went off without me to worship our great God in what I expected to be overwhelming throngs of people. I tossed and turned my way through the night and, is often the case, decided to offer a bit of resistance to the enemy after thinking it through in the morning. As it turned out, I would be joining others who love Him to celebrate the fact that Christ rose from the grave, conquering sin and death.

What a time of worship! I was so glad I had come. Our passage of Scripture came from the book of John, the eleventh chapter: the death and resurrection of Lazarus. Yes, I was very familiar with this story. The crush of people was not nearly as bad as I had feared, and I felt myself begin to relax ever so slightly. I sat, absorbed in the sermon all the way up to the point where Jesus commanded that the stone be taken away from the tomb. Martha, as practical as ever, said, "But, Lord, by this time there is a bad odor, for he has been there four days." Okay, I knew this, but why did my heart do a little flip flop when I heard it this particular time? Where are you going with this, Lord?

It was unmistakable. He had something for me in those few words. I tuned out the rest of the sermon and meditated on Martha's words: "...by this time there is a bad odor." To keep it all in context, I rewound the words of the passage in my mind. Jesus was standing at the tomb of Lazarus, fully intending that he would not be dead much longer... and Martha, having no idea, could only think of how removing that stone would bring a terrible smell. I began to see what He was telling me as a vivid image of Him standing in front of my heart popped into my mind.

My heart. That place where remnants of dead things lay buried, the result of living in a fallen world. My heart, protectively healed over without the benefit of removing the shrapnel that had ripped into it. My heart... the place strewn with dreams that had died along the way. Oh!!! I could envision Him gently saying, "Take away the stone" while I stood there, horrified, thinking, "But, Lord! It's gonna stink!!! This is going to be so unpleasant. There is so much YUCK in there!" Yet I could sense Him telling me, "It is time, Daughter. It's time to for resurrection in your heart. It's time to clean house."

And that brings us to the picture at the start of this blog entry. A few days after Easter, I heard from the Metro Parks that they were closing down Springfield Bog for a prescribed burn of the prairie. The day of the burn arrived and we nearly went to that park to hike before remembering that it was closed. We hiked someplace else, but I found that thoughts about the burn kept tugging at my mind. For whatever reason I felt a need to beat a path to that park as soon as possible. Which is what I did!

I would be in the area the very next day and I was determined to see it for myself. I grabbed my daughter and we headed out. The sight that greeted us was to be expected, but still felt rather shocking. It was pretty leveled... and black. As we walked along, we noticed a comforting campfire-like smell. Every so often I stopped and let my eyes sweep across the charred nothingness that had once been an thriving prairie.

It felt so desolate. So dead. But I kept reminding myself that looks can be deceiving. I knew that the Metro Parks would not have ordered this burn unless it would be beneficial in the long run. I thought about naturally occurring fires in nature. Though devastating, I seemed to remember hearing that they were a great thing. Weren't there varieties of flowers that could not grow unless touched by fire? I thought of how the Lord sometimes lovingly puts us through the fire... how we can trust Him to always do those things that will bring about the desired result in us... and how He has plans to prosper us and not to harm us.

I got busy researching when I got home and was not disappointed. The pieces began falling into place with a surprising quickness. I suddenly understood what moving the stone that seals off my heart would bring about... what it would mean if I allowed the Lord to take His refining fire to those dead places.

Just to name a few things, I learned that fires kill back the invasive plants before they have a chance to take over. The products of the burn fall to the ground, sink back into the soil, and provide the nutrients that are needed for future growth. Amazingly, some seeds need hot temperatures to germinate. I also learned that the Metro Parks perfectly times their burns so that regrowth will occur before nesting birds return to make the prairie their home.  

I can so see the Lord doing all of these things in me, the one He loves. He knows exactly when it is time to move on to the next phase of what He has in store for me. He has plans for me, but he must first ready the soil of my heart. He has shown me that it is time for a firing to take place. Might it get unpleasant for me at times? Sure! But in His loving kindness, He has provided just the words I needed to give me courage for what lies ahead.

He knows that it is time to cleanse my heart of all of the things that have stubbornly stuck around. He knows the danger of allowing them to remain too long: that I will be hindered in accomplishing those things He has for me. I've desperately tried to beat back the things that should have been taken care of long ago. I am realizing, though, that sometimes you just have to get drastic about removal.

I love this picture! Is it just me, or can you also see the promise? The total destruction of  prairie is seen on one side of the path. On the other side, the promise of things to come - the reminder of how densely it will grow back. He is faithful! He can see what we cannot.

Lord, I am excited about where You are leading me. I lift up the remainder of the forgiveness series to You. I humbly ask that You give our pastors just the right words to minister to us, your people. I pray for an outpouring of Your Holy Spirit upon our congregation, that strongholds will crumble and fall as your people cry out to You and give You access to dark places in their hearts. Shine your light, Lord, and lovingly administer healing wherever it is needed. I pray that many will let go of things that have bound them for years and experience the freedom that can be found in You. Thank You for the attentiveness that I know You will show each of us as we do the hard stuff. You will never leave us or forsake us. Remind us to come to You, allowing You to carry our burdens when they feel heavy. Lord, our time here is short and we need to be about your work. We are not capable of doing that unless You purge our hearts of every thing that is not of You. Do it, Lord! And we'll give all praises to your great name. In the name of Jesus I pray, Amen.

Promise of Protection

I love the unique way that the Lord comforts me in my times of need! We came across this neat heart pattern on one of our hikes last week. At the time, I had whispered, "I love You, too, Lord!" I considered it to be one of the many love gifts He seems to delight in sending my way. I hadn't any idea then, but He had more in mind where this gift was concerned. A depth to it that I did not at first suspect.

You see, I got a call from a friend last weekend who also has a special needs child. From time to time we like to pause in our busy lives and see what's going on with one another, laughing and crying about some of the things we deal with. And so we caught up again. These conversations, while a blessing, can also get my mind wandering where it has no business going: the future. Inevitably, I begin thinking about what life will be like for my son if the Lord doesn't come back for us before my husband and I become aged or pass away. Will someone with unrestrained evil take advantage of him?

I needed something to quell my quaking heart before leaving for worship the next morning. Soaking in the Psalms was just the thing! In doing so, the Lord let me know exactly what His plan was for my son. He is so good. Towards the very end of my reading, my eyes came to rest on Psalm 116:6 - "The LORD protects the simplehearted; when I was in great need, he saved me." Of course! How could I have doubted? I thought of my sweet boy and his precious, simple heart.  And then I let the reality of that sink in: the LORD protects those who are like my Levi. These types of things do not escape His attention. I knew this was God's Word for me. Additionally, the preceding verse says, "The LORD is gracious and righteous; our God is full of compassion." Yes, He is all of those things. He loves my son more than I do. What beautiful promises for this mama. Praise God!

Thank You, Lord, that You speak to me so faithfully through your Word and through everything You have made. You know just when the worries of this life strangle and choke. You know the very moment I need reassurance from You. How blessed I am that You know what I need before the need ever arises!

In a world where so many are looking for meaning in anything but You, O Lord, I praise You for making me Your very own. I am grateful that You have caused me to seek hard after You. It is true that You can be found by those who look for You. May I always see You everywhere I look.

I once again place my precious Levi boy into your loving and capable hands. I once again trust You with His future. Thank You for the many promises in your Word. Help me to always see them and cling to them. In the strong name of Jesus I pray, Amen.