When my husband arrives at the door after work, the entire house
erupts in chaotic excitement. Little toddler tippy-toes dance full-speed
ahead in an attempt to beat older siblings to the entrance in our
kitchen. Sometimes the children run and hide, giggling in place as they
wait for Dad to notice they are missing and being a game of
hide-and-seek in an attempt to find them. Other times, there is a rush
of energy as they hurry to finish a task, usually picking up their toys,
so Dad will be proud of them for cleaning up. But always, there is
commotion. Shouts of joy and exclamatory outbursts can be heard
throughout our home: "Daddy's here! Daddy's here!"
Yesterday was no exception.
Little
L. ran to the door, her chubby two-year-old legs working overtime to
keep up with her outstretched arms. "Daddy!!" She was ready to leap into
his arms before his keys had even turned the lock. The older two ran in
behind her and quickly began chattering, less concerned about whether
anyone was paying any attention and more interested in relieving the
in-suppressible need to verbally release all the information that their
little minds had been storing throughout the day, waiting patiently for
an opportunity to tell Dad every detail he might have missed.
I
stood there across the room and smiled. Our eyes met and he smiled back
and said a simple, "Hi." Then untangling the children from his legs, he
walked over to kiss me.
The children had more to say,
so I walked back into the next room to resume folding laundry.
Eventually, the kids dispersed to continue their own activities, which
they had previously abandoned when they heard Dad's car door shut in the
driveway, and I returned to the kitchen. He turned to face me and
leaned his back against the counter. I stood near the stove.
"So," I asked, "How did it go."
He shrugged, smirked, then smiled and sighed. "It went good." His tone was not confident.
"What does that mean?" I pried for a more explicit answer.
He
looked at me knowingly and began to explain. "You know, it's one of
those things that you can either get mad about or look at it as an
opportunity to learn something and grow from it."
My
smile diminished and I could feel the warm tears welling. I knew I would
not like whatever I was about to hear. He knew it too.
"I'm
just choosing not to let it make me angry. I want to recognize my own
part in it and I want to be better because of it. I want you to do the
same."
I just looked at him. No reply. He knows me,
I'm already angry and I don't even know why yet. His smile was
understanding, compassionate and reassuring. "I need you to be
forgiving, because if you get angry about it, it is just going to make
me angry and I don't want that. I just needed to say that before I tell
you anything else."
My heart sank as he went on to
share with me the details of his meeting. What he learned that day would
give anyone cause to feel angry. Yet he stood there, saddened, but
gracious as he gently explained it all. Not once did his voice raise.
Not once did he speak unkindly about anyone. He humbly accepted more
responsibility than I know he needs to own. I knew he was devastated
inside, but determined; he was angry about what had taken place, yet
refused to become embittered by it, refused to dwell in that anger.
Instead, his response to the whole situation, and especially to this
information, has been perhaps one of the most beautiful things I have
witnessed in his life during the fifteen years that I have known him.
While
the children squealed and laughed in the other room, my heart was torn
between the natural reaction to news like this and the one my husband
had not only asked me to have, but was modeling for me. Every time I
felt that heat of fury burning in my gut, I thought of him. He was the
one who should be most enraged. He wasn't. He had every human right to
be angry about this, but he chose not to. I realized what a brave and
strong man I am married to.
To do right is certainly commendable. But to choose,
even in the privacy of your own home, in the familiarity and safety of
your own heart, to embrace what is right - that is truly strength of
character. Anyone can modify their behavior publicly or say nice things in front of
others. Integrity is doing right regardless of who sees or doesn't see, it is consistency of character. It takes strength to choose to reject the right to be angry and
instead to respond with forgiveness towards those who have wronged us.
My husband is truly the very best man I know. He is
wise. He is humble and teachable and forgiving. He is a living and
honest example to me of love. And although, he is imperfect, as I look
at the definition of love, he is all these things. I don't say that just
to flatter him. I live life with him everyday and he really does live
an example of love - not perfect love, but one of the best examples I
have ever witnessed. I am so honored to know this man and to share life
with him and to walk through disappointments with him. If not for his
example, my heart would be a mess right now. But he is so confident in
his determination to do what is right, that I cannot help but to want to
follow his lead and let go of my right to be angry and to remember the
abundant grace that our God has offered each of us. I have been
forgiven for so much, I must also forgive others.
Love
is patient. Love is kind. It does not envy. It does not boast. It is not
proud. It is not rude. It is not selfish. It is not easily angered. It keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight
in evil, but rejoices with the truth. Love always protects. Love always
trusts. Love always hopes. Love always perseveres. Love never fails. [1 Corinthians 13]
In what might have been one of
the most devastating moments in our lives so far, there is peace and joy
that overwhelm the discouragement and sadness; there is love, whose
brilliance outshines the shadows of injustice and anger.
It
is no wonder that our home explodes with excitement when Daddy arrives -
even on days when he brings sad news along with him. He fills our home
with hope and kindness, protection and love.
I am blessed.
Showing posts with label Comfort. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Comfort. Show all posts
Sunday, June 24, 2012
Sunday, June 17, 2012
Sunday Morning
You know those times when you sit there in a church service and hear
the words and listen to the message, and it is applicable to your life
and you walk away from that time convicted, challenged or encouraged to
face the week ahead? Today's message at church was not like that.
Instead, it was as though the entire morning had been carefully orchestrated specifically for us. The second we sat down, we knew...this is what we need to hear. The lyrics during worship were exactly what was in my heart and what I needed to cry out to Him; that life may be challenging and disappointing and unfair - but He is good and holy and worthy. Our circumstances don't change who He is, instead, He changes our perspective in our circumstances.
I knew as we were getting ready this morning that discouragement and sorrow were beginning to well in my heart again. I also knew that I was determined to worship Him, even if I don't understand, even if I am brokenhearted, even if I feel doubt and confusion - I will still follow Him. I will continue to practice trusting Him. I will be thankful.
When the pastor spoke, it was as though a good friend, who understood all we were feeling and everything we were facing, sat down beside us and reminded us of the truth of His Word, walking us through each verse we needed to hear. Our confidence is in a God who loves us, who sees and understands what we cannot and who is more than able to meet all our needs according to His good purpose.
It is easy to say all that in one breath, and grieve our circumstances with the next. The real test is in walking through the difficult circumstances we find ourselves in from time to time [or, perhaps, painfully often] and choosing, each moment, to praise Him - to trust Him.
It is so helpful for me to look at our relationship to our children. We have one in particular who is irrationally dramatic sometimes and before this child even has an opportunity to process information or a situation, this child's reaction becomes instant fear, discouragement, hopelessness. Words like "never" and "always" erupt in bursts of un-checked dramatic exclamations. Often when we want to give this child something good, before we even have an opportunity to explain, this melodramatic display surfaces and the entire plan is dampened by the illogical behavior.
Maybe we react this way a little with God.
Instead of just waiting patiently for Him to explain the whole plan, we jump to conclusions, assuming that because things are not going the way we thought they would, everything is ruined. [Insert hand on forehead and fake swooning...] Or rather than trusting that even if there is no foreseeable plan or answer or conclusion in our favor, that He loves us, wants what is best for us and is not only willing, but able to protect us and help us. That doesn't mean nothing bad ever happens, it just means that He knows, cares about those hurts and has a purpose in allowing them in our lives - even if we never are able to fully understand the "whys".
We teach our children that they need to learn to trust us - even when they don't understand. I imagine our heavenly Father, the God who made the world and everything in it - who formed us with design and purpose and knows the intricacies of both our bodies and our spirits, expects that same respect from us.
That's kind of what it boils down to. Respect. If I believe that He is God and that His Word is true, why would I question or fear or become discouraged? We know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose. If God is for us, who can be against us?
This is a verse that was brought to mind this afternoon: So do not fear, for I am with you. Do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you. I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.
I just need to love Him. That's it. If I love Him, I will listen to Him, I will walk in obedience and do what is right. If I know Him, I will know that He is to be trusted. He clothes flowers and feeds sparrows. He loves us. I won't waste time wondering and worrying and wishing. But instead, I will invest myself in worship. I will commit my heart to trusting His character and wisdom, rather than my own. I will find contentment in His company, rather than seek satisfaction in something innate or unattainable. My confidence cannot lie in what we see alone, because our eyes can trick us to believe we see something different from what really is. My perspective is so very narrow, there is a whole world of insight and understanding that I could not possibly gain in a lifetime. I am like my child in my understanding compared to the Lord, [if even that wise]. He knows better and if I am wise, I will continue to let my confidence rest in Him.
I'm so encouraged to know that He works things together for our good and for His purposes - even preparing today's message for us. He is kind.
Instead, it was as though the entire morning had been carefully orchestrated specifically for us. The second we sat down, we knew...this is what we need to hear. The lyrics during worship were exactly what was in my heart and what I needed to cry out to Him; that life may be challenging and disappointing and unfair - but He is good and holy and worthy. Our circumstances don't change who He is, instead, He changes our perspective in our circumstances.
I knew as we were getting ready this morning that discouragement and sorrow were beginning to well in my heart again. I also knew that I was determined to worship Him, even if I don't understand, even if I am brokenhearted, even if I feel doubt and confusion - I will still follow Him. I will continue to practice trusting Him. I will be thankful.
When the pastor spoke, it was as though a good friend, who understood all we were feeling and everything we were facing, sat down beside us and reminded us of the truth of His Word, walking us through each verse we needed to hear. Our confidence is in a God who loves us, who sees and understands what we cannot and who is more than able to meet all our needs according to His good purpose.
It is easy to say all that in one breath, and grieve our circumstances with the next. The real test is in walking through the difficult circumstances we find ourselves in from time to time [or, perhaps, painfully often] and choosing, each moment, to praise Him - to trust Him.
It is so helpful for me to look at our relationship to our children. We have one in particular who is irrationally dramatic sometimes and before this child even has an opportunity to process information or a situation, this child's reaction becomes instant fear, discouragement, hopelessness. Words like "never" and "always" erupt in bursts of un-checked dramatic exclamations. Often when we want to give this child something good, before we even have an opportunity to explain, this melodramatic display surfaces and the entire plan is dampened by the illogical behavior.
Maybe we react this way a little with God.
Instead of just waiting patiently for Him to explain the whole plan, we jump to conclusions, assuming that because things are not going the way we thought they would, everything is ruined. [Insert hand on forehead and fake swooning...] Or rather than trusting that even if there is no foreseeable plan or answer or conclusion in our favor, that He loves us, wants what is best for us and is not only willing, but able to protect us and help us. That doesn't mean nothing bad ever happens, it just means that He knows, cares about those hurts and has a purpose in allowing them in our lives - even if we never are able to fully understand the "whys".
We teach our children that they need to learn to trust us - even when they don't understand. I imagine our heavenly Father, the God who made the world and everything in it - who formed us with design and purpose and knows the intricacies of both our bodies and our spirits, expects that same respect from us.
That's kind of what it boils down to. Respect. If I believe that He is God and that His Word is true, why would I question or fear or become discouraged? We know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose. If God is for us, who can be against us?
This is a verse that was brought to mind this afternoon: So do not fear, for I am with you. Do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you. I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.
I just need to love Him. That's it. If I love Him, I will listen to Him, I will walk in obedience and do what is right. If I know Him, I will know that He is to be trusted. He clothes flowers and feeds sparrows. He loves us. I won't waste time wondering and worrying and wishing. But instead, I will invest myself in worship. I will commit my heart to trusting His character and wisdom, rather than my own. I will find contentment in His company, rather than seek satisfaction in something innate or unattainable. My confidence cannot lie in what we see alone, because our eyes can trick us to believe we see something different from what really is. My perspective is so very narrow, there is a whole world of insight and understanding that I could not possibly gain in a lifetime. I am like my child in my understanding compared to the Lord, [if even that wise]. He knows better and if I am wise, I will continue to let my confidence rest in Him.
I'm so encouraged to know that He works things together for our good and for His purposes - even preparing today's message for us. He is kind.
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
Disappointment
I can hardly catch a breath, sorrow and heaviness chokes me. My eyes
burn. My head aches and my abdomen is pinched with tension. Facing this
evening has been like waking up into a bad dream. I wish I could fall
asleep to a nightmare right now and leave behind the nauseous knowing
that this won't just go away in the morning. I've been awakened from a
dream - to the reality that life is unpredictable, ever-changing,
unfair, unjust and inconsiderate of our feelings.
I cannot sit or stand, I pace and attempt to go through routine motions, leaving millions of simple things undone for lack of hopeful motivation. I feel as though I am such a mess of a woman with this devastation weighing heavy on my soul. It is amazing how one decision can impact nearly every aspect of life. I cannot undo, or fix or change what is. I can only wait. Like a young chick with an open mouth, trusting in its parent's provision.
Tonight as I watched the lightening flash violently across the sky, illuminating the horizon with it's mesmerizing brilliance, I was reminded that I am so small. That my world and my wants and my hopes and my life is so very, very small; and that He is powerful. My God is mighty to save. I don't say that as the "Christian-eze" thing to say, I know He is. I've tasted and seen that the Lord is good. He has met us in our dark places. He has stood near and comforted in our hurts. He has changed hearts and lives and made provisions and offered wisdom. I know that even though my stomach turns and my heavy heart is weary, anxious and afraid, that He is to be depended upon and that He alone is in control. He gives and takes away. He is where our refuge is found, stability is in the Rock, not in my dreams and hopes for a future. This is not our home.
As much as I desperately, desperately grieve this, the knowledge that He is loving and able cannot be dismissed by the devastation of vanished dreams. I don't believe the foolish words that "everything will work out for the best". It may not. It may work out for the hardest, the ugliest, the most painful and unpleasant. But He will be there. His power is able to provide brilliant light to eradicate the dense darkness - if only for a brief moment, and remind us He is there.
This discouragement is certainly not the most severe trial a person can suffer, but it is a heavy blow for my shallow and weak heart. I may need to stop dreaming altogether, and keep my eyes open to the reality in front of me; not nearly as much fun, but I'm too disappointed to hope, and cannot help but wonder if He prefers a bit of darkness to surround me so that the brilliance of His light is that much more splendid.
Even in our shadows, He remains. Even in our weakness, His hand is strong. I would still rather be uncomfortable where He is than happy where He is not. This I know. It may be all that I know.
So tonight, I will brush away the tears, and consider His character and kindness - and all the many blessings I have been given. I will remember dark places He sustained me in. I will recall wise insight He has spoken into my heart. I will remind my soul of His faithful provision of all that I have ever needed. In my heart, in the Spirit and knowing the truth, I will worship Him. Nothing else matters much for very long. Life and all of its worries and concerns and demands lasts only a short moment, and is over. In the end, our soul is all we keep. My soul has grown tired and weary, anxious of each next second and where it will lead us to. Perhaps I was so intent on traveling to a destination that I neglected to look up and clearly see the lightening, until the darkness set in, and it became impossible to ignore.
Even in my disappointment, I rejoice, because You, O God are good and You, O Lord are loving. Not the "throw your hands up in the air and dance" kind of "rejoice". Not even the "smile and feel glad inside" kind of "rejoice". It is admittedly a weak rejoicing, maybe a forced rejoicing. But a deep-rooted sense that there is cause for celebration and gladness in my soul, because I know the love and forgiveness of Christ - and nothing, not even lost years, deep sorrows and vanished opportunities can separate us from Him. What others see with worldly eyes, He sees with eternal eyes. I am caught between eternity and earth...never quite understanding what is before me. But I trust. And I waver. Then return to trusting.
Thank you, Jesus, for knowing me and holding me, even [and perhaps especially,] when my moment seems so dark and my heart cannot be quieted, so full of thundering emotions.
I cannot sit or stand, I pace and attempt to go through routine motions, leaving millions of simple things undone for lack of hopeful motivation. I feel as though I am such a mess of a woman with this devastation weighing heavy on my soul. It is amazing how one decision can impact nearly every aspect of life. I cannot undo, or fix or change what is. I can only wait. Like a young chick with an open mouth, trusting in its parent's provision.
Tonight as I watched the lightening flash violently across the sky, illuminating the horizon with it's mesmerizing brilliance, I was reminded that I am so small. That my world and my wants and my hopes and my life is so very, very small; and that He is powerful. My God is mighty to save. I don't say that as the "Christian-eze" thing to say, I know He is. I've tasted and seen that the Lord is good. He has met us in our dark places. He has stood near and comforted in our hurts. He has changed hearts and lives and made provisions and offered wisdom. I know that even though my stomach turns and my heavy heart is weary, anxious and afraid, that He is to be depended upon and that He alone is in control. He gives and takes away. He is where our refuge is found, stability is in the Rock, not in my dreams and hopes for a future. This is not our home.
As much as I desperately, desperately grieve this, the knowledge that He is loving and able cannot be dismissed by the devastation of vanished dreams. I don't believe the foolish words that "everything will work out for the best". It may not. It may work out for the hardest, the ugliest, the most painful and unpleasant. But He will be there. His power is able to provide brilliant light to eradicate the dense darkness - if only for a brief moment, and remind us He is there.
This discouragement is certainly not the most severe trial a person can suffer, but it is a heavy blow for my shallow and weak heart. I may need to stop dreaming altogether, and keep my eyes open to the reality in front of me; not nearly as much fun, but I'm too disappointed to hope, and cannot help but wonder if He prefers a bit of darkness to surround me so that the brilliance of His light is that much more splendid.
Even in our shadows, He remains. Even in our weakness, His hand is strong. I would still rather be uncomfortable where He is than happy where He is not. This I know. It may be all that I know.
So tonight, I will brush away the tears, and consider His character and kindness - and all the many blessings I have been given. I will remember dark places He sustained me in. I will recall wise insight He has spoken into my heart. I will remind my soul of His faithful provision of all that I have ever needed. In my heart, in the Spirit and knowing the truth, I will worship Him. Nothing else matters much for very long. Life and all of its worries and concerns and demands lasts only a short moment, and is over. In the end, our soul is all we keep. My soul has grown tired and weary, anxious of each next second and where it will lead us to. Perhaps I was so intent on traveling to a destination that I neglected to look up and clearly see the lightening, until the darkness set in, and it became impossible to ignore.
Even in my disappointment, I rejoice, because You, O God are good and You, O Lord are loving. Not the "throw your hands up in the air and dance" kind of "rejoice". Not even the "smile and feel glad inside" kind of "rejoice". It is admittedly a weak rejoicing, maybe a forced rejoicing. But a deep-rooted sense that there is cause for celebration and gladness in my soul, because I know the love and forgiveness of Christ - and nothing, not even lost years, deep sorrows and vanished opportunities can separate us from Him. What others see with worldly eyes, He sees with eternal eyes. I am caught between eternity and earth...never quite understanding what is before me. But I trust. And I waver. Then return to trusting.
Thank you, Jesus, for knowing me and holding me, even [and perhaps especially,] when my moment seems so dark and my heart cannot be quieted, so full of thundering emotions.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
One Lovely Year
A year ago today, the bright warm sun was streaming into my room and filling the shadows with a glow full of life and excitement. I can still see the smiling, kind face of my midwife as she assured me that I was close to greeting my little girl. The presence of light in the room filled me with a new determination, a burst of energy and strength I did not realize I possessed. With a final push and painful, yet triumphant cry, she slipped into this world and into my longing arms and the day began.
My heart aches a little for that moment to return...for that indescribable feeling to linger just a bit longer. There is nothing in all the world like staring into the eyes of your newborn baby, their insanely tiny fingers wrapped lightly around your own, and soft, damp skin pressed against your chest. I have never in my life experienced such tremendous pain, or exhilarating joy.
What an incredible way to begin a day! Even after being up all night, wavering back and forth between great anticipation of what was inevitable and overwhelming fear that I could not survive it...all I wanted to do that day was stare at her, and kiss her, and feel her velvety cheeks. I hated to nod off into a slumber and miss a single second of her miraculous presence beside me. I was so deeply in love with this bitty creature I had only just met. How could I possibly love her with this intensity? How could I possibly not?
We took her home hours later...still slightly intoxicated with bliss. The days and loooong nights following would prove to be challenging at the least. I felt entirely unprepared to care for a newborn along with my 2 and 4 year old children. My heart raced and my mind panicked at the very thought of my husband's return to work. But despite the fears and inadequacies I struggled with, this sweet year has been so very lovely. And this surprise baby we had not anticipated or desired has filled our lives with a richness and beauty that cannot be reproduced any other way. It is a fullness that money cannot buy and planning cannot manufacture. It is a gift.
I am ever so thankful that God, in all His wisdom, ignored the dreams in my own heart and gave me a gift I had not asked for and shamefully, I even mourned over a bit. I was so foolish to ever think that I did not want to be needed and loved by this sweet girl. I weep as I consider it. Thank you, Lord, for unseen circumstances and unplanned honors...like sharing a day full of sunshine and new life with the baby girl you have given to us. What a privilege and joy this year of living life together has been for our family!
Happy Birthday to my sweet darling, L.
What an amazing day it was!
My heart aches a little for that moment to return...for that indescribable feeling to linger just a bit longer. There is nothing in all the world like staring into the eyes of your newborn baby, their insanely tiny fingers wrapped lightly around your own, and soft, damp skin pressed against your chest. I have never in my life experienced such tremendous pain, or exhilarating joy.
What an incredible way to begin a day! Even after being up all night, wavering back and forth between great anticipation of what was inevitable and overwhelming fear that I could not survive it...all I wanted to do that day was stare at her, and kiss her, and feel her velvety cheeks. I hated to nod off into a slumber and miss a single second of her miraculous presence beside me. I was so deeply in love with this bitty creature I had only just met. How could I possibly love her with this intensity? How could I possibly not?
We took her home hours later...still slightly intoxicated with bliss. The days and loooong nights following would prove to be challenging at the least. I felt entirely unprepared to care for a newborn along with my 2 and 4 year old children. My heart raced and my mind panicked at the very thought of my husband's return to work. But despite the fears and inadequacies I struggled with, this sweet year has been so very lovely. And this surprise baby we had not anticipated or desired has filled our lives with a richness and beauty that cannot be reproduced any other way. It is a fullness that money cannot buy and planning cannot manufacture. It is a gift.
I am ever so thankful that God, in all His wisdom, ignored the dreams in my own heart and gave me a gift I had not asked for and shamefully, I even mourned over a bit. I was so foolish to ever think that I did not want to be needed and loved by this sweet girl. I weep as I consider it. Thank you, Lord, for unseen circumstances and unplanned honors...like sharing a day full of sunshine and new life with the baby girl you have given to us. What a privilege and joy this year of living life together has been for our family!
Happy Birthday to my sweet darling, L.
What an amazing day it was!
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
A Stranger Joy
What is this I see with my eyes?
The lonely, shadowed places men lie
And weep
Not concerned that others view it
This pain cannot be choked down
It must be heard
All too familiar are the gunshots and the cries
Listen close
A piercing blast and strong men agonize
In their eyes
I see fear met with determination
I see devastation
What's to loose?
Death could free them from the tragedy they live
And I grieve
With this perfect baby in my arms
And I weep to know a mother holds a lifeless child
And I pull her closer still and breathe a prayer
I wrestle with my thoughts then leave them there
Too great to bear
Too big to comprehend in my small heart
Standing in the kitchen
Staring down into the black sink
I am thankful that there's dishes to be washed
Images flash by in my mind
Of dark waves crashing, rushing by
And trailing grand destruction
This should be a dream
This should be a nightmare
But I have seen
And someone lives it
And my heart grieves
While children's laughter warms my heart
From the next room
And I cherish every tiny shriek
Knowing somewhere silence breaks his heart
And a father stares into an empty space
Too soon apart
Greater still a love that cannot be
Shaken by a quaking ground or raging sea
Silenced by the roar of men
Intimidated by a gun
No this love will never run
It holds us firm
And we cannot slip the grip of this grand grace
A peace that passes understanding
Hope that drives a weary soul to carry on
A truth that sets a firm foundation
So if the ground should shake
We will not fear
Though hate accuse
It won't prevail
I pull my baby close and say a prayer
God, meet them there
In the lonely, shadowed places I can't see
Cannot reach
Wipe away the tears the helpless weep
May Your love bring
A stranger joy
The lonely, shadowed places men lie
And weep
Not concerned that others view it
This pain cannot be choked down
It must be heard
All too familiar are the gunshots and the cries
Listen close
A piercing blast and strong men agonize
In their eyes
I see fear met with determination
I see devastation
What's to loose?
Death could free them from the tragedy they live
And I grieve
With this perfect baby in my arms
And I weep to know a mother holds a lifeless child
And I pull her closer still and breathe a prayer
I wrestle with my thoughts then leave them there
Too great to bear
Too big to comprehend in my small heart
Standing in the kitchen
Staring down into the black sink
I am thankful that there's dishes to be washed
Images flash by in my mind
Of dark waves crashing, rushing by
And trailing grand destruction
This should be a dream
This should be a nightmare
But I have seen
And someone lives it
And my heart grieves
While children's laughter warms my heart
From the next room
And I cherish every tiny shriek
Knowing somewhere silence breaks his heart
And a father stares into an empty space
Too soon apart
Greater still a love that cannot be
Shaken by a quaking ground or raging sea
Silenced by the roar of men
Intimidated by a gun
No this love will never run
It holds us firm
And we cannot slip the grip of this grand grace
A peace that passes understanding
Hope that drives a weary soul to carry on
A truth that sets a firm foundation
So if the ground should shake
We will not fear
Though hate accuse
It won't prevail
I pull my baby close and say a prayer
God, meet them there
In the lonely, shadowed places I can't see
Cannot reach
Wipe away the tears the helpless weep
May Your love bring
A stranger joy
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Darkness in the Valley
Darkness has fallen upon the little valley where we live. The evening chill has begun to settle in for the night. It is quiet here...with the exception of the whirring of our rickety old fan as it faithfully neutralizes the summer heat. But my heart and mind are full of commotion.
Fear loudly challenges every thought. And Discouragement threatens each moment. All the while Hope cheers on, like an energetic high school girl, "Gimme a "P"...gimme an "E"..."R"..."S"..."E"..."V"..."E"..."R"..."E"! And Joy refuses to be silenced...even as Worry and Cynicism shoot disdainful glares her way, as if to say, "Grow up and taste reality, you have nothing to say worth listening to." This is the stage set to the chaos of my thoughts tonight.
My week...my last month even, has been full of tragic moments turned hopeful; discouraging news enveloped by new possibilities, and frightening circumstances passing without leaving much more than a mere shadow behind to attest that indeed they had been nearby. Yet for all the grace-filled outcomes, my heart still wrestles with the shadows I have brushed up against these past days. And the darkness outside reminds me to be afraid...while the Spirit whispers, "Hush, my darling...do not be afraid for I am with You. Do not be dismayed for I am Your God." And because in my heart I linger here somewhere between the darkness and the light...all I see are shadows...and they tempt me to fear them.
My mind is dizzy with anxiety, yet determination and inexplicable calm embrace my spirit and hold me still.
And maybe this is part of His desire in allowing these shadows to touch me. Maybe He wants me to wrestle with these thoughts. Not once or twice...but over and over until every muscle of my spiritual and emotional self has been built up to meet these dark adversaries and defeat them; the dark foes of fear and doubt and a cynical, worrisome spirit, and anxiety and discouragement. These well-practiced opponents must be met squarely and fiercely...or they may slyly enter unnoticed and settle deep within our selves where one’s will alone could never pry them loose. Maybe this is preparation.
I must know that He is to be trusted. I must know that He is to be worshipped in every circumstance. I must choose to let Joy sing, "Blessed be Your name!", when Cynicism and Worry attempt to intimidate her. I must be prepared to cling to Him when all the stormy winds of life shake and press upon and toss my world around.
When my husband has no job...when I see loved ones being destroyed by the temptress Alcohol…when my family and friends are airlifted to the hospital...when an SUV runs a red light on the highway and hits people I love...when strange men creep near my window...He is there. He is here. And even the blanket of night cannot hide His presence. He is.
"even the darkness will not be dark to You; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to You." - Psalm 139:12
So, Hope will continue to cheer; I will give Joy a voice in each day...in every moment...in all circumstances.
"Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus." 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18
And I will trust that He is here. I will rest in His strong hand. I will know that He is good...and I will worship Him...even in the dark valley, the valley where I live and the valleys I may face in this brief life. I will fear no evil, for You are with me.
Fear loudly challenges every thought. And Discouragement threatens each moment. All the while Hope cheers on, like an energetic high school girl, "Gimme a "P"...gimme an "E"..."R"..."S"..."E"..."V"..."E"..."R"..."E"! And Joy refuses to be silenced...even as Worry and Cynicism shoot disdainful glares her way, as if to say, "Grow up and taste reality, you have nothing to say worth listening to." This is the stage set to the chaos of my thoughts tonight.
My week...my last month even, has been full of tragic moments turned hopeful; discouraging news enveloped by new possibilities, and frightening circumstances passing without leaving much more than a mere shadow behind to attest that indeed they had been nearby. Yet for all the grace-filled outcomes, my heart still wrestles with the shadows I have brushed up against these past days. And the darkness outside reminds me to be afraid...while the Spirit whispers, "Hush, my darling...do not be afraid for I am with You. Do not be dismayed for I am Your God." And because in my heart I linger here somewhere between the darkness and the light...all I see are shadows...and they tempt me to fear them.
My mind is dizzy with anxiety, yet determination and inexplicable calm embrace my spirit and hold me still.
And maybe this is part of His desire in allowing these shadows to touch me. Maybe He wants me to wrestle with these thoughts. Not once or twice...but over and over until every muscle of my spiritual and emotional self has been built up to meet these dark adversaries and defeat them; the dark foes of fear and doubt and a cynical, worrisome spirit, and anxiety and discouragement. These well-practiced opponents must be met squarely and fiercely...or they may slyly enter unnoticed and settle deep within our selves where one’s will alone could never pry them loose. Maybe this is preparation.
I must know that He is to be trusted. I must know that He is to be worshipped in every circumstance. I must choose to let Joy sing, "Blessed be Your name!", when Cynicism and Worry attempt to intimidate her. I must be prepared to cling to Him when all the stormy winds of life shake and press upon and toss my world around.
When my husband has no job...when I see loved ones being destroyed by the temptress Alcohol…when my family and friends are airlifted to the hospital...when an SUV runs a red light on the highway and hits people I love...when strange men creep near my window...He is there. He is here. And even the blanket of night cannot hide His presence. He is.
"even the darkness will not be dark to You; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to You." - Psalm 139:12
So, Hope will continue to cheer; I will give Joy a voice in each day...in every moment...in all circumstances.
"Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus." 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18
And I will trust that He is here. I will rest in His strong hand. I will know that He is good...and I will worship Him...even in the dark valley, the valley where I live and the valleys I may face in this brief life. I will fear no evil, for You are with me.
"Blessed be Your name when the sun's shining down on me
When the world's all as it should be
Blessed be Your name.
Blessed be Your name on the road marked with suffering
Though there's pain in the offering,
Blessed be Your name..."
Friday, July 9, 2010
Little Sister / Big Brother
Little Sister: "Oh no!" [said in a very sad tone, with her head hung low]
Big Brother: "What? What's the matter R.?"
Little Sister: [deep, dramatic sigh] "Well, there is something wrong with my room."
Big Brother: [with a puzzled expression on his face] "What is wrong with your room?"
Little Sister: [now with hurried and concerned excitement] "Um, there is something wrong with my room that makes it scary."
Big Brother: "Ohhh. Well, is it the darkness? Or is it that the closet door is open?"
Little Sister: "It is that the closet door is open and there is darkness in there."
Big Brother: [now in a VERY big brotherly, step-back-and-let-me-handle-this-for-you sort of a voice] "Ok, R. Don't worry, I'll go with you. I'm not afraid of the closet...or the darkness."
And then Big Brother proceeds to lead the way to the scary closet filled with darkness and shut the door. He marches back to Little Sister and proudly announces, "There you go, R. I took care of it for you."
Mama: [smiles]
Big Brother: "What? What's the matter R.?"
Little Sister: [deep, dramatic sigh] "Well, there is something wrong with my room."
Big Brother: [with a puzzled expression on his face] "What is wrong with your room?"
Little Sister: [now with hurried and concerned excitement] "Um, there is something wrong with my room that makes it scary."
Big Brother: "Ohhh. Well, is it the darkness? Or is it that the closet door is open?"
Little Sister: "It is that the closet door is open and there is darkness in there."
Big Brother: [now in a VERY big brotherly, step-back-and-let-me-handle-this-for-you sort of a voice] "Ok, R. Don't worry, I'll go with you. I'm not afraid of the closet...or the darkness."
And then Big Brother proceeds to lead the way to the scary closet filled with darkness and shut the door. He marches back to Little Sister and proudly announces, "There you go, R. I took care of it for you."
Mama: [smiles]
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Stories of a Wise and Loving God
Today is the start of a new adventure for us. [Actually, at least around my house, everyday is the start of a new adventure.] But today's new journey requires a little more faith than the adventurous steps we take in everyday life. Actually, this new adventure begins with rest for us. However, resting would be easier if I felt just a bit more relaxed, or comfortable in my circumstances. Instead, I find myself facing the truth, that nothing is certain.
Nothing that is, except for God. He is certain, steadfast, unchanging, faithful, and true.
I am certain of His wisdom, and I am certain of His love. I am confident that He will meet our needs. And equally confident that He will require us to face challenges that make us squirm a bit. Yet, even if we face discomfort, danger or fear, we never face it alone...and we never face it unsure of our end. We know that in the end, He holds us. No one can snatch us from His strong and gentle grip. Nothing can separate us from the love of God...and if God is for us, who can be against us?!
As I look around my home, I'm comforted by reminders of His faithfulness in my life. I recall times that we had to make decisions to step out, entirely unsure of the ground we would walk on if we did step - or if there would even be any ground to catch us. And every instance I can remember has proved Him both faithful and good.
Like when my firstborn was 6 months old and I felt convinced that I should stay home and care for him, rather than continue at my job. Unfortunately [or perhaps, too fortunately], my income provided over half of our family finances. Our mortgage was lower than any rental cost I had heard of...and we could change some of our spending habits, although, we certainly didn't live extravagantly. We did have 2 small car payments on our "new" used vehicles. We crunched the numbers, but it just didn't look like it would work out. After months of praying and calculating and aching to be with my baby, we finally decided that we were certain God was asking me to quit my job. And with no idea how bills would get paid and how numbers would add up, we determined that we would step...and prayed He would catch us.
I wrote out a notice for my manager. On the day I intended to give it to her, we were visiting my husband's parents. They sat us down and explained that for the past month God had been laying it on their hearts to pay off the remainder of our car loans, so that I could stay home with our son. They had wanted to tell us weeks ago, but circumstances had kept them from sharing it with us sooner. [Circumstance - bah! God just wanted us to sweat first!]
Or when we moved back into our one bedroom house, with our 2 year old son and a baby on the way...unsure of how we would manage fitting everyone and everything comfortably in here. And God slowing began to strip away things that we thought we needed. He graciously expanded our house, without ever tearing down a wall, or hammering a single nail. We sold our bed. God gave us insight and wisdom as we re-organized and found space we never thought we had. And now, 3 years and 2 more children later, He is continuing to teach us contentment, and a fondness for small spaces. :)
I think of the time that my daughter had a really high fever and we couldn't bring it down. My husband took her to the ER, and I stayed behind at home, so our son could sleep. Those hours waiting to hear an answer were some of the most difficult ever. I prayed and I wept and I paced and my mind was racing. By the time the phone rang with my husband on the other line, with good news to report, the Lord had taken my heart through a journey of fear, anxiety, and finally surrender. I knew that she was only entrusted to my care, she was not mine. And I was heartbroken, but willing to let go, if He asked me to. He didn't that day. And I am so thankful for each morning I wake up to her bright, cheerful smile!
And then there was a time when, despite my husband's hard work and long hours, and our best efforts to balance our finances, we were $500.00 short to pay our bills. It was the end of the month, and we had no way to come up with the cash on our own. We prayed about it and trusted that He would provide for us. A few days later [just in time to make our payments], a couple from church, who we barely knew, handed my husband an envelope. Inside was a card full of words of encouragement and a check in the amount we needed. They had no way of knowing our circumstances, but God had asked them to take a step, and they did, and He used them to "catch" us as we took a step. And in the whole process we were all blessed and amazed by the care and provision of God for His people.
I could go on – He enabled me to carry my children comfortably throughout my pregnancies even though I had severe back pain for years. He softened my parents' hearts, and we were married with their blessing. He provided financially again and again when we were in need. When my husband was away in other countries for work, he brought help and comfort to me through friends and believers I didn't even know. He asked my husband to leave a job he loved, and he did...and we were out of work for nearly a month, and had very little cash saved. God provided for us in the midst of a devastating snow storm, he was able to shovel snow for 9 days straight and earn more money than we normally would in an entire month! When my mother was diagnosed with cancer... When our son's leg was severely burned... He has always been faithful to go before us, and walk with us through each situation.
Once, when I was in my late teens, I was driving down the highway behind a larger truck, and I had an urgent sense to move into the left lane. I did. My mom was riding in the passenger seat and wondered why I was switching lanes; the right lane is safer, right? Suddenly, a huge sheet of plywood lifted from the back of that truck and flew behind it into the right lane - exactly where our vehicle would have been! We were both in shock. How could I have known? I did not know why...I just knew I needed to move, and God had protected us both from what I'm sure would have been a fatal accident that day.
I just think in my mind of all the ways He has cared for us...and I am reassured. He has never once failed me. Oh, He has left me uncomfortable in my circumstances...and He has ignored my hopes and dreams at times. But He has given me contentment in the middle of my discomfort and has been setting my heart on Him, rather than my desires for this life, and all the temporary sweetness it may offer.
So, as I look ahead...not too far ahead, I can only handle a day [okay, more often just a moment] at a time...I may not have any insight into what lies before us. But I know who goes before us…who holds us. And I trust Him. And because I trust Him, I can rest. I am going to enjoy these next few days together with my husband and our children, and not try to figure everything out. I have decided to be thankful in each moment, and determined to wait until He leads us to take a step. And when He goes before us, we will follow - even if it's dark, and we are unsure of where each foot will land. There is no place I would rather be than in the hands of Him who is perfect in both wisdom and love. I have a feeling this adventure will be the next great story we will tell of His faithfulness and provision in our lives.
"You hem me in - behind and before; You have laid Your hand upon me. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me... Where can I go from Your Spirit? Where can I flee from Your presence? ...If I say, 'Surely the darkness will hide me and the light become night around me, ' even the darkness will not be dark to You; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to You. I praise You because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; Your works are wonderful, I know that full well. ...When I awake, I am still with You. ...Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting." - Psalm 139
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Sometimes I Just Don't Really Love You
Every once in a while my persistence pays off...
Like last night, at 3:00 in the morning.
"Mom...Mom." My 2 year old daughter called from her room.
I was already awake with my 10 week old baby. "Yes, darling?"
"Um...well, um, sometimes I just don't really love you."
!!! Really? At 3 in the morning, THIS is what you yell across the room to me? [Thank you, sweetheart.] "Yes you do." I calmly replied.
"No, no...sometimes, well, sometimes I really just don't." the sweet, little voice insisted.
"No..." She said with a high and then low sing-songy voice, "No-oh..." [do you know what I'm talking about?] "I do-on't" [again the up and down sing-songy for "don't"]
How can someone be so adorable and mean at the same time?!
"Yes, you always love me. Now go to sleep, darling."
"Well, Mom, um sometimes I do love you." [almost apologetically, as though not wanting to completely discourage me]
"I know you do, darling. Good-night."
............................long pause...........................
"Well, actually Mom, I do love you!"
"Yes, sweetheart. And I love you too. Good-night."
"Good-night, Mom."
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Quieted By Love
"waaaa...waaa....waaaaaaa!" I circled the house for the fifteenth time or so [that sounds longer than it actually took...those of you who've been here understand.], bouncing her gently in my arms and whispering soothing sounds in her ear as I rubbed her back and nuzzled her head with my cheek. Still, the only response she gave was screaming.
Behind us trailed my sweet little shadow, Rachel. In her incredibly heart-melting 2 year old voice, she was also attempting to comfort her tiny little sister, "Oh...you poor, sweet litttle love. Oh, darling, you're ok - your mommy's got you. Sweet baby, I'm so sorry you're hurting. You'll be ok, you can do it - you're a tough little honey." I smiled. And likely blushed a little - apparently this is what I sound like...although most certainly not as adorable. Rae's cheerful encouragements were just as ineffective as my own efforts. But we both continued in our attempts as we proceeded back and forth across the living room.
After a man-sized belch, and a fair amount of spitup in my hair and down both of our chests, she was finally comfortable. And now, exhausted, she quieted. Her previously restless arms and legs now relaxed and she gripped my arm with her tiny hand and laid her head on my shoulder.
"The Lord your God is with you, He is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, He will quiet you with His love, He will rejoice over you with singing." Zephaniah 3:19
I am awestruck by this, as I consider it in light of my own experience with LilyMae.
As I experience the difficulties, pains, trials and discomforts of life...He sees. He hears. He holds me in His hands and whispers encouragements and love gently into my life. It still hurts. But when I pause long enough to hear His voice above my own tearful cries and notice His touch despite my panicked flailing... I am able to rest a moment - quieted by His comforting love.
I'm reminded of Rachel's words to Lily, "You're ok - your mommy's got you."
I'm ok...He is holding me. And unlike myself - who is actually relatively helpless to resolve my daughter's discomfort - regardless of what I so confidently whisper to my children in their distress - He IS mighty to save. And He will save us...those of us who accept His love. Although, not always in the ways or timimg we would like. He will hold us through it all and quiet us with His love...aching with us as He sees our pain...delighting in us...rejoicing over us with singing. How amazing is THAT?! :)
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