Wednesday, August 13, 2014

Begging for a Cookie

I've always had an issue with persistent prayer. 

I love the verse "Pray without ceasing."  I Thessalonians 5:16.  The thought that God calls us and asks us to pray without ceasing is an amazing thought. He wants to hear from us.  He hears us.  He is there.  What a great comfort!

Yet, here is my struggle.  I can come before my Father and thank Him.  I can come before Him and gripe and complain.  I can even come before Him and lay my requests at His feet.  And yet I struggle with the continual and repeated laying of the same request at His feet.  Repeating it time and time and time again. 

Here is where my rub lies.  Persistently praying for the same thing over and over again feels to me like a child who begs their parent for a cookie.  Please, Mom can I have a cookie?  How come I can't have a cookie?  Pleeeeaaassseeee, Mom, pleeeeeeaaaasssseee.  I've experienced this kind of thing time and time again.  After about the 10th time....I'm ready to pull my hair out and I want to scream:  "IF YOU ASK ME THAT ONE MORE TIME, YOU WON'T GET A COOKIE UNTIL YOU'RE 32!!"  So, I would come before my Father with my request.  Lord, I know you've heard this before.  I've asked you once and you know I'm going to ask you again......

And for the life of me I could not be bold before my Father asking Him again.  And again.  And again. 

I've prayed like this for years for my son, Luke.  He's struggled since day one with schooling.  I would wrestle with how to reword my requests so that it didn't sound like I was begging and pleading with Him.  Though that is exactly what I did.  I begged.  I pleaded.  I cried.  And God didn't "heal" my son and make him a great student.  After years of praying and searching, God gave me a "diagnosis"....and an action plan to help him.  He has refined my prayers for Luke.  More specific.  Step by step. 

Now I find myself praying for the healing of my Mom.  I'm specific with Him.  I want the tumor gone.  I want the cancer eliminated.  He isn't responding immediately.  (Though I'd like Him to, for sure!)  And so I must pray continually.  "GOD, I WANT MY MOM HEALED."  How many days will I have to pray that prayer before He lays the final answer down in HOW He will heal her?  And I wrestle. I wrestle with that feeling of being the petulant child who asks her Father for a cookie. 

This morning, on my walk, I began to think of Jesus in the garden of Gethsemane.  He prayed multiple times: 

"Abba Father, everything is possible for you.  Take this cup from meYet, not what I will, but what You will."  Mark 14:36
This cup that He referred to was the manner of death in which He was suppose to die.  As we know, it was gruesome, horrifying, incredibly painful and degrading.  Crucifixion.  Man's cruelty to man.

Jesus prayed so diligently for the cup to be removed from Him that the Bible says that:

"Being in anguish, He prayed more earnestly, and His sweat was like drops of blood falling to the ground."  Luke 22:44

Such earnest prayer.  Jesus wanted to be removed from the cruel death He would face.  Ultimately, He wanted God's will more.  I find in this thought, I am beginning to feel more freedom to pray persistently.  It doesn't mean that God will fulfill things in my way.   My mother's healing is what I want so desperately.  I cannot change my prayer any other way. 

I. Simply. Can. Not. 

And so I will continue to pray.  Earnestly asking my Father to heal.  I think He's okay with that.  I think He understands.

Thank You.

Tuesday, August 12, 2014

The tending of Patience.

I'm finding I'm not a very patient person. 

Okay.  Wait.  I already knew that.

I guess I just long to be patient.  Actually, patience is suppose to be a fruit of the Spirit.  You know.....Love.  Joy.  Peace.  PATIENCE.


I hope that in some areas of my life that I have learned patience.  Yet, in the depths of my heart there is one area in which patience is not there.  Or at least it doesn't exist there naturally.  I must plant it, cultivate it, trim back the errant growth of worry and anxiety, I must continually nurture patience.

I don't know how to label that place of my heart.  It is the place that I wait for God to move.  To act.  To reveal Himself.  I think of the years that I have prayed and pleaded for God to move over Luke and his struggles with learning.  The verses that God would lay upon my heart would be things like: 
 “Be still, and know that I am God" Psalm 46:10

"The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still.” Exodus 14:14

Granted, God gave me many other verses that tended my heart; but, He hasn't chosen to remove dyslexia from my son.  He HAS given me resources, but He hasn't moved to remove. And I struggle.  I would love to say that I've got it all under control.  We've got a plan, we've got helps, we've got....and yet I must still Be Still and let God work His plan in Luke's life.  It is that tending of patience.  Weeding.  Pruning. 

Now, I'm in another place where I must tend patience in my life.  A terrible diagnosis in someone I love dearly.  I've done my fair share, in the short days since discovery, of pleading and begging for removal.  I war with my thoughts, demanding that the diagnosis, the cause, be removed.  CURE IT NOW. 

And yet I know: It will be long.  It will be a battle.  It won't be pretty.  And I must wait.  All I can do is pray.  And wait. 

Patience, my child.  Patience.

Friday, August 8, 2014

Shadowed Places

Have you ever thought of how closely light and darkness are connected?



Back the train up, Girlfriend.

 God is calling me to look at that statement a little closer. 

My first idea was looking at a leaf in brilliant light.  So bold.  So green.  Brilliant.  Yet, underneath that leaf, is darkness....a shadow.  One could not have light without having darkness right beside it.  And as I paused in that thought, I think God began to change change my direction.  Darkness doesn't really exist.  It is just varying levels of LIGHT. 

Looking at that from a spiritual point of view, as people have often equated darkness with sin, that statement of darkness doesn't really exist seems wrong.  We all know that sin is real. It is present.  We see the effects of it on a daily basis.  But what makes the Darkness of Sin non-existent is that the God of Light has overcome it.  Varying shades of LIGHT.  LIGHT WINS! Always. 

To God be the Glory!

This day, I feel like I'm walking in a shadowed place.  (Oh my, I find that God is speaking to me as I type!)  At first, it is scary.  Tragic.  I want to scream.  WHERE IS THE LIGHT?  And as I type that, I am enveloped.  Like a baby sparrow hidden in the wings of her mother.  Or should I say, Father?  My favorite image.  MY image.  My shadow is the shelter of His wings. 

In Him, I find rest. 

Wednesday, April 17, 2013

April 17, 2013

I have now renamed this post at least half a dozen times. 

I don't want to name it Re-Entry....because I've tried that before.  And failed.

I don't want to name it "Longing for Something." either.  Pretty sure I've said that before too.  So cliche.

I flirt with calling it "Rediscover."  But, "Rediscover" and I wrestle together on a consistent basis and I'd hate to let him think that maybe this time he had won the battle.

Maybe I should call this post:  "Who am I?"  Whoa..  Don't think so.  I'm pretty sure that is "Rediscover's
 alter ego.   Nice try.

So....why ponder this?  Why is it that I feel the push to write....and yet the ideas and the words don't seem to be there. They dance in the shadows and throw flirtatious glances my way.  Daring me and then running the other way, laughing at my frustration.  What's with that?

There was a time that I wrote.... so that at the end of the day...there was something.that was done.  And once the publish button was pushed, it couldn't be undone.  And if I was lucky, what was done would be beautiful.  Unique.  Different.  Decent. (and... dare I whisper it...)  Worthy.

Writing: a journey, a treasure hunt, a hacking through the jungle of  tangled, wild, hidden thoughts.  Slash that lie.  Turn that corner.  Dodge.  Weave.


Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Being The A.D.

Looking back, I didn't truly appreciate living in the home of educators, but as an adult, I realize now how incredibly awesome that was. My parents had time off at Christmas, Spring Break, and Summer. We took full advantage of those vacations. Time with family, camping trips, and day trips to the local beach were regular activities.

My dad was our family's athletic director. Being a physical education teacher, it seemed the appropriate term in our family to describe the person who planned our family's adventures. Though, as I think about it, seems like I remember there being "kerfuffles" over who actually was the A.D., or Athletic Director! As a kid, I took that role for granted because we were always off on some adventure or other.

So, here I am: The Queen of My Own Domain. The Holder Down of the Fort. The Fixer of Boo Boos. The Chauffeur. The Maid. And....unfortunately....The A. D. The dreaded Athletic Director. I've decided that the role of A.D. is one of my unspoken gender assigned roles. I've waited for 15 years for my husband to be the A.D. Unfortunately, he carries his own gender assigned role of being The Provider. And his Provider job does not have vacations like an educator.


Recognizing my need to be The A.D. hasn't helped me much. I struggle so much in planning activities for my kids....for our family. I get weighed down with the details. What to do. How to get there. How much it might cost. How many people will be there. Not-so-cooperative attitudes of my children. My husband's availability vs. doing it without him. And the list goes on. Road block after road block, I find myself doing very little, or nothing at all.

Not what I planned. Not what I want.

And yet, whether I plan something or not, life goes on. With or without me.

Aiming for With.

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Happiness A to Z

We are on the Official Day 2 of Spring Break. The first day went fairly well. No fights. Some chores were finished. All in all, a very good day. It gave me hope for the rest of Spring break.

Today, I woke to gray skies. Again. The rain sprinkled me this morning on my walk. The cloud cover is significant enough to tell me there won't be any sunbreaks today. Bummer.

The gray skies seem to be settling in here in the house too. Complaints. Mumbled sour words. Arguments.


I want joy. I want happiness. I want kindness and forgiveness. Not sure if we'll get there, but I'm hopeful. So, let's focus on happiness. What brings me happiness? Let's contemplate that from A to Z:

*Applied Talents. My kids have lots of them. It brings me lots of joy to see them used. Athleticism. Great memory. Math skills. Singing. Piano.

*Brotherly togetherness. It was sooo much fun to watch the boys working together yesterday on chores. I smiled so big as I watched Caden patiently teaching Luke how to make cookies. Not the best batch of cookies we've ever had; but, they were sweet just the same.

*Cozy hugs. I love that my kids still want to snuggle with me once in a while.

*Doggy tricks. Ruby is such a hoot when she's going through her little "routine." Cracks me up when she "anticipates" our calls. It is fun to watch my kids playing with her too.

*Everyone together. Seems like lately that our family time together is rare and far between. I love it when we are all together enjoying the same thing.

*Friends. Nothing is better than a great friend. It makes it even better when my kids are friends to each other.

*Good coffee. I never thought I'd say that!! I've always loved the smell of coffee...reminds me of my grandpa. Now, I enjoy a good cup of coffee. A little bit of pleasure amidst the chaos.

*Happy kids. When my kids are happy, this Mom can't help but be happy.

*Ice cream. Smiles in a bowl. 'Nuf said.

*Jesus. Without Him, I'm toast.

*Kindness. Why does that seem such a rare thing these days? One act of kindness can change everything.

*Laughter. Best sound on earth.

*Mom time. When the kids are finally in bed, and the house is quiet, that is pure bliss. Makes me sigh just thinking about it.

*Notes from anyone. Writing notes seems to be a dieing art anymore. How I cherish the words that are written. Those can be revisited again and again. The rewards are endless.

*Overly beautiful flowers. Come on, Spring, do your best!

*Pictures. There is a lot of joy to be found in looking at pictures. Pictures are worth a thousand words. Really.

*Quiet games. Fun and peace all wrapped in one.

*Red Robin. A shared hamburger from Red Robin with my Tim. 'Nuf said.

*Silly jokes. Okay...sometimes this is obnoxious....but roll with's fun.

*Tim coming home early from work. Or should I reword that to: Tim coming home on time.

*Unexpected blessings. Who doesn't love that?

*Very hot bath coupled with a good book....yippee!!

*Walking Ruby. Not always; but, I am coming to really enjoy them. Most of the time.

*eXciting books. I love a good, well-written book.

*Zipping up my new birthday jacket. I love warmth.

This exercise of looking at what makes me happy seems to be working. Hoping the rest of the day proves so.

Monday, March 21, 2011

The Need for the Gift of Beauty

Winter in Oregon is tough for me. Gray. Wet. Gray. Cold. Gray. Damp. Gray. And so it goes. Even with the advent of Spring, (I think), I find myself stuck in the cycle of Gray. Wet. Gray. Cold. Gray. Damp. Gray. This morning, on my walk, as we slowed to a new-found, granted temporary, rhythm of Spring Break, I started to becomes aware of COLOR. Green grass. Yellow daffodils. Purple crocus.

Now, sitting in my home, darkened by the gray skies outside, I crave color. I crave beauty. I'm currently watching a home-decorating. Oh, that is a gift I wish that God had given me. The gift, the ability, to create beauty where I am. I crave beauty, and yet I feel paralyzed in my abilities to create beauty. It doesn't help that my home is cluttered with the mess of the weekend and the beginnings of Spring break.

People's giftings make certain tasks seem so easy. Their gift flows from them with ease and grace. I have always felt that somehow God skipped over me in my gifts. I don't automatically see where my giftings are. I want so badly to decorate my home with ease. I hate being paralyzed by my own fears of just jumping into that. I crave the beautiful. Why can't I create beauty.

A couple of weeks ago, in Sunday school, a friend suggested that may gift was writing. I struggle with that because I see others who write so much better. But, writing is as different as decorating. Each style is different and valued. So, I decided today, as I craved the gift of making beauty, I decided to test the waters of beginning my blog once again. Finding value in myself in the value of making beauty through writing.

My prayer is, as I finish this disjointed post, is that I will find value in the beauty of my writing once again. As I write, I pray that I find the beauty of color in my thoughts.

Come, Spring, bring your color.