Anticipation of Introduction to Loving Again

It's been almost 2 years since I lost my Ruby.  Her death came in a season of already HUGE loss and hurt.  Hurt unlike anything I have ever experienced before and hope that I never experience again.  It's been even longer than the 2 years since she's been gone that this Hurt has been in my life.   Some days I feel like I am finally defeating the hurt and so I give God huge thanks.  I'll brace myself even in the midst of giving thanks for the healing, knowing that I'll probably be side swiped with the pain all over again.

Today is one of those days where the side-swiping is hitting hard.  My heart hurts.  And I miss my Ruby. Again.  She was my comfort here on earth. Some days I wonder why God took her during one of the darkest times of my life.  

There was a time that I though I would never get a dog again.  It's too hard.  The Loving and the Losing. The Loving is amazing.  The acceptance.  The joy.  The laughter. The sweet wags at the top of the stairs when I come home from work.  The nudge in the night for a little loving.  The feelings of safety and security while we walked in the dark morning light.  

The Losing is so hard.  I'm starting to heal from that.  Not feeling as broken with the loss of her.  I wish the Broken from the Hurt would fade as well.  

Today I breathe with anticipation.  A couple of months ago, I decided I was ready to try loving another dog again.  Getting Tim to join me in that was part of the hullabaloo of Loving again.  I anticipate because the puppy I've chosen hasn't come home yet.  She comes home in a little over a week.  Barring anything unusual.  I almost had a puppy come home in October....only for something unusual to happen.  So, I breathe anticipation in....and hold my breath.  

Meet Evie.  Evie Lou.  Evie Lou Brandt.  

I'm hoping that part of the healing of Losing (Ruby and my Hurt) is Loving again. 

 I can't hardly wait.  
 

 

Yummy in my Tummy

IN ALL THINGS GIVE THANKS 2: DAY 4

Today has been kind of a dreary day.  Started the moment I got out of bed and took a peek outside.  At that moment, I watched the wind whipping the trees and the rain into a regular frenzy.  Uh uh.  I was not about taking my walk in THAT.  So to the elliptical I went.  Better than nothing!

I'm also finding that I am not transitioning well into this fall weather.  Short days.  Dark clouds. No sunshine.  My vitamin D levels are TANKING.  It all makes me so tired.  Doesn't help that this perimenopausal stuff makes sleeping optional. haha.  I thought my work day would never end.  

One thing that makes me smile each evening lately is some peppermint ice cream bars that have been on sale at Costco. I don't usually like to reward myself using food; but, maybe I'm not really rewarding myself.  Just my little evening delight.  

The other night, I went down to get my little treat, and  new that it would be time to open our second box.  *sigh* My little stash is almost gone for the season.  Somewhere....some time....my sweet Tim bought a *third* box!  Yay! My little evening food "spa" can continue for a little bit longer.  

Thank you, love!

Some people in my life....

 IN ALL THINGS GIVE THANKS 2: DAY 3

I'm finding that I am out of practice giving thanks!  I forgot to do one yesterday.  I'm going to give myself some grace.  Of course now that I've committed to being thankful again, I'm finding myself under attack and finding myself worn down and discouraged.  Of course!  Could I expecxt any less??

There is one part of my life, though, that is a bright spot in my days.  I'll be honest.  I wish I was still a stay at home mom.  I miss having my own schedule....doing my own things....and not having to get up at 5:00 a.m. to get to work.  BUT....Jesus placed these lovely ladies in my life to work with.  I couldn't be more thankful for them.  If they weren't there, I'd probably go looking for another job! Thank you, Jesus, for Rosalee and Natalie!  

Together Again

IN ALL THINGS GIVE THANKS 2.0: DAY 2

 Two and half years ago, I left the church that I had been attending for 30+ years.  A big part of my Upheaval.  When I went, it was one of the times I felt like I heard God speak so clearly.  He said Go.  I went.  

One of the most difficult parts of that Going, was that my. husband didn't Go with me.  Here I was torn between what I felt God said to me ("I'm taking you out to protect you.") and my husband saying to me (I don't want us to be apart for long.) That was a rough place to be. 

I left on my own.  Where God sent me, I felt like it was another clear moment of God speaking and directing me.  I thought that I would enjoy the church shopping I would do.  I mentally listed the things that were important to me in a church.  Then I began to search.  

I was quickly overwhelmed.  My heart was battered (had been battered for a lot of years.)  I was battle weary.  I needed a place to hide.  I needed a place to rest.  I needed a safe place to land.  

In my searching of local churches (online), I felt super-impressed to attend one in particular.  No audible words from God....just a Knowing to Go.  So I went. I spent the whole service feeling like every song, every word was spoken just for me.  I cried through the whole service.  

My church shopping didn't last long!  I've now been attending that church for two and a half years.  

In my hiding, I became very good at slipping in and out the doors without talking to anyone.  (I needed Jesus, but I wasn't so sure about His followers!) Slowly I started to put myself out there.....and I do mean slowly! It is so hard to "break in" to a new church, particularly when you're wounded.  

It took over two years for my husband to finally heed the nudge to leave our former church.  As of July, he's been attending my new church with me.  Yes, that is today's thankful post.  I am so thankful that Tim is attending church with me.  He's not phased by the mess that was our former church. He's not phased by people.  In the few months that he's been attending with me, I've met more people and have become more involved.  I'm so very thankful he is with me.  I feel safer.  I feel reconnected to him in ways that were different before.  

I wish that I could say that after two and half years away from my trauma that I was healed.  I think that will take awhile.  What it will look like, I can't say.  I know that there are certain things that I long for and pray for...like the return of my voice.  The lessening of anxieties.  The return of trust in others and in my self.  

In the meantime, I pray and I wait....but most of all Give Thanks.  

Taking Back My Voice

 IN ALL THINGS GIVE THANKS Day 2.1:

The year 2020 was a stinky year.  I'm not going to revisit all the stinkiness because we all have our own stink about 2020. One thing that was good for me that year was that I started a spiritual discipline using social media platforms.  I chose to give thanks, in all things, every day until the pandemic was over.  It was only suppose to be a two week "interruption" into our lives.  Of course, the pandemic went on and on and on.  As did my daily thanks discipline.  At the moment, I don't remember the final count of continual days of thanksgiving, but I do remember that I made it to over 1000 days of giving thanks.  That was almost 3 years.  

I loved this discipline.  I'm a pessimistic person by nature.  I often like to say that I'm not being pessimistic, I'm just be realist.  Tomato.  Tomahtoe.  I loved that in the midst of every day I would find something to be thankful for.  Sometimes it was something big.  Often times something small. Yet, ultimately, always thankful.  

I can't begin to tell you the good that did for me.  

Believe it or not, though, I believe that my thankful discipline was inadvertently part of my Upheaval.  Since I posted my thankful posts on social media, my friends saw them every day.  I believe it led some certain "friends" to assume certain things about me.  Which led them to assume other things about me.  My son once told me, that assuming things makes an ass out of you and me.  ASSUME That has stuck with. me. Great way to catch myself assuming things!

All of that to say, I found myself no longer feeling safe putting anything of myself out for others to see...to misuse....to misunderstand.....whatever.  I tried a different method of social media posting....a little more private...as some friends were encouraging of my posts.  Ultimately, I just couldn't any more.  Trust broken is a hard thing to fix. 

Fast forward a couple of years to last night.  I wrote my first post in a couple of years.  I've missed writing.  I've missed my Voice.  How do I get it back?  After I hit publish, I felt God prompting me that my Blog was the place to restart my Thankful posts.  I use to write quite a bit here and I loved it.  Without a voice, though, I found that I have had nothing to post.  Oh...but...I can always find something to be thankful for.  

So here we go. I feel safe here. This is MY space.  I loved that it was ME here...in my words...my stories...my thoughts....my faith. I may never broadcast to anyone that I am writing again.  Maybe some day I will.  For now, it's just me. I'm so glad to be back to being thankful.  Putting it down somewhere "permanent."  Being disciplined.  Using my words.  Maybe in this, I will find that my Voice, my words, will come back.  

Thank you, Jesus, for the reminder of this space.  For the glimmer of passion that I feel sparking in the undercurrents of Me.  

Help me to be faithful.

Have You Seen My Voice?

 I've spent the last hour or so rereading some of my past posts.  I started off reading the posts I made almost two years ago.  The basis around them was the Hope that I was healing from a great Upheaval.  I'm fighting the inclination to place the word Hope in quotes as I have found that healing from Upheaval (a.k.a. abuse: I can finally say that word) never seems to be complete.  It is hard.  It is layered.  It is dimensional.  

*sigh*

Sometimes I think that I should stop calling it healing.  Healing implies restoration.  I'm not restoring anything. There is no going back to the Christine that was.  No going back to the places that were.  There is no going back.  There is only going forward.  There is only finding new ways.  New places.  New everything.  

I don't like new.  

Reading my posts from way back, though, there is much that I miss.  I could list all that I miss, but I am going to resist.  

I mostly miss my Voice.  

I had things to say.  I said them.  I said them well.  Not perfect....but well.

That big Upheaval in my life, abuse, trauma....the results of that hang around awhile.  It isn't always in my face like it use to be....but I find that I notice it the most when I try to use my Voice.  This last week, I likened it to the Flight or Fight response.  Guess which one I am?  Flight for sure!  I wish that it was actually with my feet that I would fly....but its my words.  Even now, as I want to just spit all this out, my words don't come smooth.  Thoughts are jumbled.  Incoherent? Messy.  

How does one fix that?  Jesus and I talk about it quite a bit.  I know that He hears.  I guess His answer is: Not Yet.  

Not a great post.  This is really just for me.  Maybe some day I will look back at this post and realize that Jesus finally healed my fears, anxieties, brokenness and has given me a New Voice.  

I hope so.  

Rollercoasters

I used to think I liked rollercoasters. I used to think I was one of the cool kids. Bring it on!   I was wrong. So. Very. Wrong. 

A few years ago, we went as a family to Silverwood. I tagged along with my daughter and my niece and we hit all the big coasters.  Looking back on it, I don’t think I liked any of them. I kept trying them, thinking this one would be different. Of course, they weren’t.  I should have been a better wife and let my husband hang with the girls while I hung with the child who had a fear of heights.  We both would have been so much happier. 

As I think about that, I shouldn’t have been surprised that I didn’t really like the big coasters. Several years before, I convinced Tim I wanted to go sky diving. My friend had done it and she loved it. I was convinced I’d love it too.  So we jumped out of a perfectly good airplane! When  I finally caught my breath after the acceleration ripped it right out of my lungs, the only part I really enjoyed was when the parachute finally caught and I could stare in awe at the beauty from so high up as we floated back to earth.  

Face it, Christine.  You are not a thrill seeker or an adrenaline junky.

Yet, I love heights. I love the fantastic view from the top of Mt. St. Helens. I love wind whipping my hair at the top of the Astoria Column. I absolutely adored the calm, peaceful floats in a hot air balloon. I was totally in awe of the sights from the top of Masada in Israel.  Give me those kind of thrills.  

Sometimes, my spiritual/emotional recovery is a bit like that rollercoaster…..and I want off!  The last day or so, I feel like I took a dive off the edge. Not. A. Fan. That dive on a real coaster really does nothing good for me. Puts my body in panic mode. Every part of my body holds its collective breath until something catches and the free fall ends. 

Several years ago, my friend took me along on some hikes.  We did some amazing hikes that summer. I loved it so much. We started small. Stopped often. Admired the flowers and the wildlife along the way. As we hiked, we got stronger, braver and more trail savvy. We started doing bigger and longer hikes. Then we started inviting others along with us, sharing big, beautiful summits C together.  Beautiful views. Beautiful friends. Beautiful memories. 

Time for a shift in Perspective.  I’m getting off the roller coaster.  I’m strapping on my hiking boots and I’m setting off for the glorious summit of recovery.  No more crazy, gut-dropping, screaming dives.   I’m pressing on, slow and steady. Up this little hill. Down a smidge. A gentle curve here. A little off-road climbing there. Don’t give up. Keep going. Watch that root. No tripping! Just a few more steps.  Ah….the view.  Glorious. Well done! 

 

But one thing I do: forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus. Philippians 3:13-14

I'm a Theme girl: BEHOLD

I love themes.  Themes in my day.  Themes in my thoughts.  Themes in the way God speaks to me.  He's driving home a thought.  Wake up!  Pay attention!  This is important. Christine.....BEHOLD!  

I've come to love this word, BEHOLD.  My church used it as their theme during Advent.  I loved the definition that the pastor used.  He said behold means..."don't miss this"...."Be sure to see this." Apparently, in the King James Version, the word BEHOLD is used over 1,000 times!  There must have been a lot that God didn't want His people to miss.

So when I see themes throughout my day, I try to stop and BEHOLD.

I've been praying through Psalm 57 the last couple of days.  It is a psalm of David that was written when he was hiding from Saul in the caves near the springs of En Gedi.  

  

Saul was out to kill David.  Saul had lost God's anointing and favor as king of Israel.  David had been anointed and called to be the next king.  Saul knew he had messed up.  He was angry and set out to kill David.  David fled to the desert.  Tim and I went to Israel in November 2022.  (a dream come true!)  The above pictures were taken at the springs of En Gedi.  I highly doubt the caves I took a picture of were any that David hid in....but it was fun to imagine!  This spring was amazing...because the desert that surrounded it was the most barren stretch of land I had ever seen...for as far as I could see.  Crazy to imagine that anyone or anything could survive out there...but David sought refuge and safety in this desert.  

"Be gracious to me, O God, be gracious and merciful to me, for my soul finds shelter and safety in You, and in the shadow of Your wings, (speaking my birdy language here!) I will take refuge and be confidently secure until destruction passes by." Psalm 57:1 

David praises His God in the midst of this horrible trial.  He knew that God had promised him the kingdom.  The time just was not right yet.  He never lost faith that God would fulfill what He said He would fulfill.  

"I will cry to God Most High, who accomplishes all things on my behalf [for He completes my purpose in His plan.]" Psalm 57:2

"My heart is steadfast, O God, my heart is steadfast and confident! I will sing praises [to You!] Psalm 57:7

I loved these two verses.  For a lot of months, (an eternity, it feels like) I've felt lost in the silence.  Things I thought were solid, weren't.  What's God's purpose for me?  Do I even have a purpose anymore?  David could have easily felt that way as he hid away in a cave surrounded by the barrenness of the desert.  Instead, he sang as he waited. 

 I'm learning to sing as well; and, my heart is steadfast.  That rang true for me today.  I'm claiming that word: STEADFAST. I'm remembering my little thrush sparrow singing in the storm.  She's steadfast.  She's unmoved.  She's still singing. 

The other part of the story about David hiding in the caves as Saul pursued him?  David was given a prime opportunity to make his problem go away.  While David hid, Saul entered the very cave David was hiding in to relieve himself.  Saul was in a very vulnerable position.  David could have killed him without breaking a sweat.  He chose not to.  Saul lived to pursue David another day.  

I follow this lovely account on Instagram.  The author's (Raised to Stay, Natalie Runion) goal is to encourage people who have been wounded by the church, but choose to remain in the church.  God has gifted her! I'm often encouraged by her posts.  Today, she posted this:

David didn't kill Saul when he had the chance so let that be a lesson to us all that revenge doesn't expedite the promises of God. #raisedtostay

I've been wounded by my church.  God asked me to leave my church, and I went.  He also sent me to another church where He's been slowly stitching me back together.  I am in no way seeking revenge on my former church.  The part that run true for me....nothing expedites the promises of God.  There is nothing I can do....or say...or remove....that will hasten the fulfillment of the plans God has for me.  As my counselor reminded me this week, even if His purpose for me is to help only one....it's more than enough.  

Do you see my themes?  Thank you, Jesus.  

  

 

Working Through

 I've been attending a new-to-me church for the last 8 months.  This church, the pastor, the music has been a balm to my wounded heart.  For many, many months, I just needed to hide for a while and let Jesus tend to broken spots.  I'm healing, and as I'm healing, I find myself hoping again.  I've found myself in a strange place, though.  Feeling hopeful.  Feeling stronger.  Yet, feeling wary.   

Yesterday was Sunday.  Church day.  If I'm honest with myself, for a couple of years, the church that I attended was a place where I felt afraid.  I dreaded Sunday mornings.  I knew that church was where Jesus wanted me to be.  I went out of obedience....and maybe even obligation.  

Then, one day, Jesus told me to leave.  Go.  So I went. 

That was when I started attending my current church.  Where I've been hiding, and healing.  I find that I look forward to church once again.  I'm anxious to hear what the pastor has to say.  Now. after many months, I want to make connections with people.  I am awful about that!  I've never been a very outgoing person.  It's hard work!

Yesterday, the sermon was good.  A little hard, too.  One thing the pastor said was that following Jesus was a new invitation to be a part of His family.  We are adopted in.  We don't get to choose our family.  Following Jesus together makes us family.  

I kind of battle with that statement.  Thirty some years ago, I chose to attend my last church.  Eight months ago, I chose to attend a different church.  Yes, because we follow Jesus, we are family. BUT.....it's not like our born-into family.  When we are born into a family, we are known from the moment we take our first breath.  Attending a new church is hard.  Harder for some than others.  When I think of the churches I've attending in my lifetime, I was known by someone before I went. I'm currently attending a church where I wasn't already known by someone. (Ok....I know some...sort of...) When you attend a church because you know someone, you've already have a foot in the door.  You are known.  You are introduced around.  You have instant connection.  

When I started attending this church, I desperately needed a place to hide.  My church had left me wounded. I hid well. (I mean well!)  Jesus and I needed to work through some things. Now, as I'm healing, and my church is talking about church as family, I'm finding I want to know and be known again.  That's harder to do than you'd think.  (That's part of the reason I want an Aaron.  Someone to go with me.)

I started this post wanting to talk about this gift I received from one of Daria's friends.  

Isn't it beautiful?  Daria's friend, my friend, George, (Elli Inglesby, for future reference when she becomes famous!) painted it for me.  As a gift.  This gift has undone me.  In ways I can't really describe.  For months, I've checked my mail everyday, a tiny part of me wishing that someone cared enough to think of me. George's gift is beautiful in more ways than appearance.  I'm not sure what prompted sweet George to paint this for me.  I'm a lucky girl! God used her precious gift.  He sees me.  He loves me.  He is with me and takes care of me.  

I'm not sure why I started this post about George's sweet gift, with talking about longing to be known again at church.  George does not attend my church.  Maybe her gift was just God's way of letting me know that He sees all my struggles. I'm seen by the only One that really matters.  Relax.  Trust.  

I think I will close with the verse that George wrote on the back of her painting.  I'm in a healing place....and I will go out with joy!

"You will go out in joy and be led forth in peace; mountains and hills will burst into song before you, and all the trees of the field will clap their hands."   Isaiah 55:12

Seeking an Aaron to my Moses

Jesus is knitting me back together.  Taking my wounded heart, stitching it together, weaving beauty out of my scars.  

Healing is hard though.  Some days I feel like I've taken 5 huge strides forward.  Only to be knocked back about 20 the next day.  Okay.  I may be exaggerating a little, but some times that is how I *feel.*  I know, I know....feelings aren't accurate.  I guess that is a good thing.  

Today, I've been wrestling with something.  There is a part of me that feels like Jesus is asking me to take a step into something that is a mite "fearful." (Actually, I'm sure that "mite" isn't quite right....but "hugely" is much more accurate!)  It is full to overflowing with Unknowns.  (I'm not overly fond of unknowns....much less Unknowns with a capital U!)  

The thing is, my Upheaval has left me in a very lonely place.  For a good long while, I hid....and I did a really good job of hiding!  Now, as I'm slowly healing, I find myself beginning to peek out and around....silently hoping that I might be found.  This isn't really an awesome place to be.  Maybe I'm wrestling with this Hope of Being Found  because I'm struggling against this time of Being Still and Knowing that He is God.  Is this step just me not trusting the place He has me in?  Desperate to be found by someone?  Would I be leaving this place where Jesus has been mending my brokenness with seams of gold? 

Today, I dared to ask Jesus if I could be like Gideon.  I dared to ask Him to confirm things. Please, Jesus, just leave me a dripping fleece in the desert. Then, I dared ask Jesus if I could be like Moses.  Jesus, can I have an Aaron in my life?  Can I have someone that goes with me?  

So I wrestle.  

I'm just a girl wandering in the desert, trying to find her way through to the Promised Land. I've made a lot of mistakes and missteps, and I'll probably make a lot more.  One of these days, I'm gonna cross my Jordan.  Hopefully it doesn't take me 40 years.  (Please, Jesus!)

Beautifully Broken

Christmas has passed. January is in full swing. I’m not overly fond of Oregon winters. Lots of rain and gray skies. Rarely are we cold enough for snow and if it does snow it never lasts for long. 

I love snow, though. I always say that snow gives cold purpose!  Yet, here I live where snow is rare. 

So, as a preschool teacher, I love bringing snow into my class….sort of.  I love decorating my bulletin boards with lots of snowflakes. This is my second January that I’ve gotten a little obsessive about cutting out coffee-filter snowflakes. I saved my favorites from last year and have been cutting out several more. I love the “patterns” I can find on line. They are so easy and I have fun making them. It makes me feel like maybe I’m just a *smidge* creative.  

 

Yesterday, I decided to try making snowflakes out of cupcake liners. Same shape, just smaller, so why not? It worked brilliantly. I’ve been super thankful for my small, sharp scissors I bought a couple of years ago. I’ve made some cute little snowflakes. I’m in love. 

Today, I was cutting my last couple of snowflakes. I’ve got plenty now. (Enough already, Christine!) By now, I was getting a little confident with my cutting skills, and I was getting a little braver trying more intricate cuts. I was super excited to see what my latest creation would look like, when…..*snip*….my cut when too deep and I lost a large portion of my little snowflake. *sigh* Being sure it was beyond hope,  I carefully opened it, and as I got it part way open, I gasped. Instead of being ruined with a gaping hole, I found it to be really quite beautiful. (At least in the eyes of its creator!)

As I delighted in my little snowflake (really I delight in all my little snowflakes), I felt a tiny nudge in my spirit. This year, I have felt utterly broken. Torn apart. Worthless. Cast aside. I’m that snowflake. Some have cut me a little too deeply. Parts of me have been cut off. Yet, my Creator finds me beautiful!

In the pre-kindergarten curriculum that I’m teaching, we talk a lot about how much God loves us. Today, (!!) we talked about how He made each one of us unique and special. There is no one in the world who is exactly like me. I am His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus, to do good works, which He’s prepared in advance for us to do. (Ephesians 2:10)

I’ve had a hard time believing what my Creator says about me. He and I are working on that.   I believe, Jesus. Help my unbelief. 

I will give thanks and praise to You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made; Wonderful are your works, and my soul knows it very well. Psalm 139: 14

Rest is Trust

 A while back, on my daily thankful posts that I made on Facebook, I posted a meme that said "Something I love about Jesus is that he napped often."  In that post, I gave thanks for a moment to rest after a busy day.  I have a very intellectual friend that read that and took me to task.  How did I know Jesus took naps?  The Bible doesn't say he napped often. I remember laughing to myself about the literalness of his statements.  I remember telling him that Jesus knew the value of rest and He rested when He needed to....this was just a fun way of saying that. 

One of my favoritest Bible stories is a time when Jesus was actually napping. (Yas!  Go, Jesus!)  I got to share that story with my Pre-Ks this morning.  I really kind of got into it...because it is super cool.  I mean suuuuuupppppppeeeerrrr cool.  I loved seeing their eyes get big and their excitement grow. So let's get into it....

In November, Tim and I went on a trip to Israel  Dream come true.  Literally.  One of the places we went to was the Sea of Galilee. (swoon!)  There is so much cooool that happened on the Sea of Galilee and I got to go there.    

Isn't that just magnificent?   This is where our story took place.  Jesus and his disciples were out in a boat in the middle of the Sea of Galilee.  The water in this picture is pretty calm; but in our story, a great big storm was raging.  The wind was blowing.  Rain was pouring down.  Waves were huge and crashing over the sides of the boat.  Jesus' disciples were terrified.  They thought for sure they would drown.  I've always wondered about their fear in the back of my mind.  A boat big enough for 12 disciples and Jesus on the verge of drowning?  The Sea of Galilee isn't actually a sea...it's a lake.  

When we were in Israel, we also got to see a first century boat that was found during a drought year on the Sea of Galilee.  A FIRST CENTURY boat.  I can hardly wrap my head around the fact that it survived for 2000 years in the mud.  Here it is:

 

No one is claiming that this was the actual boat that Jesus and his disciples were riding in, but it is an example of what it might have been like. I suppose it could have been a bit bigger. Take a look at the construction though....definitely not modern made.  It sure made the disciples' fears a little more understandable.  

The crazy thing to me about this story, is that while the wind roared, the rain poured and the waves crashed, Jesus was in the front of the boat ASLEEP! When you start thinking about it, there was probably no way that Jesus was staying dry as he napped.  To add to the chaos of the storm, the disciples' panic probably was quite a cacophony! Yet, through it all,  Jesus slept.  

Now comes my favorite part.  As the disciples' panic rises, they finally decide to wake Jesus up.  "Lord, save us! We are going to die!" I love Jesus' response: 

"Why are you afraid, you men of little faith?" Then He got up, and rebuked the winds and the sea, and there was [at once] a great and wonderful calm [a perfect peacefulness]. Matthew 8:26

Can you imagine?  At the voice of Jesus, the wind, the rain, and the waves instantly obeyed.  As if they had a mind and will of their own, they stopped.  There was calm.  

So my littles learned Matthew 8:27

"What kind of man is this, that even the winds and the sea obey Him.?" 

 One of the things that I wrote down in my sermon notes a few weeks ago was the words: "to rest is to trust." I was reminded of that today.  I'm in a season of learning to rest while in the midst of a season of upheaval.  I'm learning to trust that Jesus is with me....and He's in control.  My sister showed me a beautiful song while on our Israel trip.   It is titled "It is Well."  It has been a balm to my battered heart. My anthem, coming from this song, is this:

So let go, my soul, and trust in Him

The waves and wind still know His name.

Jesus, calm my storm.   

 

My Hiding Place

Last Christmas, I was given a waxed amaryllis bulb. I’ll admit that, at first, I was underwhelmed by the gift. Even so, I placed it on my counter, wondered what I’d ultimately do with it, and went about my way.  Over time, this green stalk began to grow. I still was not impressed.  It kept growing and growing....and wouldn't you know....it eventually bloomed!  It was a beautiful, stunning, gorgeous red bloom.  Wow!  Totally not what I expected! The bloom lasted a couple of days and then I trimmed it off.  It wasn't done yet!  It went through it's grow and bloom cycle one more time.  I enjoyed it.  Quite a bit.  

This Christmas, Costco was selling these bulbs in a pack of three. Tim was obsessed about getting them as gifts for people. His enthusiasm for them was a sight to behold.  Tim rarely gets himself hyped up about much of anything but he was hyped about these bulbs.  I mean.....hyped.  (I know...I'm as shocked as you!) He bought several packs and we passed them out to his family. There was a couple left over that we set on our counter to watch.  For a small glimpse of how Tim functions and a small taste of his enthusiasm, take a close look at the picture.  

Do you see the little tick marks on the green stalk?  Those are not *naturally occurring* marks.  Those lines perfectly epitomize my husband.  He was obsessed with seeing how quickly the bulb grew.  (They grow remarkably fast)  He loved checking on it to see its daily growth.  I'm almost surprised that there are no dates written beside each tick mark!  (I wonder if I asked him, if he'd remember how often he marked it.  Probably so.) He is so funny the things that he "obsesses" over.  (He will give me grief for using the word obsessed to describe anything about him.)

Don't you just wish that Jesus placed little tick marks on us that we could actually see with our eyes when we've grown a little?  Tick marks to see that we actually did grow even though we don't *feel* like we've grown.  If I'm honest, I wish that I had tick marks all over me. This upheaval that I've been floundering through has left me feeling more like I'm in a state of decay rather than in a state of growth.  Mark me up, Jesus. Please!

As Jesus has been teaching me to sing the last couple of days, I've been singing "You are my Hiding Place" over and over and over. In fact, it's like it's the only chorus that I can remember right now.  So today, during my prayer time, I went straight to the source to see why it is that Jesus has me singing this song right now.  So, to Psalm 32 I went where verse seven says:

You are my hiding place; You, Lord, protect me from trouble; You surround me with songs and shouts of deliverance.  

This is from my amplified Bible, but Psalm 32:7 is practically verbatim the words used for You are My Hiding Place.  So good.  Why did you send me to this song, Jesus?  Besides the obvious, of course.  So I started at verse one.  This psalm is about the "Blessedness of Forgiveness and of Trust in God."  That is how my amplified Bible summarized this chapter.  It's a psalm of David.  A man after God's own heart who still sinned.  A lot.  God loved David, forgave him, and used him.  God told David he was a blessed because God forgave his sins.  David talks about how he wasted away, and his energy was drained, when he had unconfessed sins in his life.  David tells how he told God all his sins and God forgave his guilt.  And then the blessings...the favor shown by God in His forgiveness.  

1. God is near.  He will be found (vs 6)
2. When the great waters [of trial and distressing times] overflow they will not reach [the spirit] in me. (vs 6)
3. He is my hiding place. (vs. 7) 
4. He will protect me from trouble (vs 7)
5. He surrounds me with songs AND SHOUTS of deliverance. (vs7)

This time of upheaval in my life has left gaping wounds.  At times, I have felt far from favor.  Jesus and I have done a lot of talking about it.  I've taken responsibility for my part in things....and now He's working on me forgiving the parts that were done to me.  It's hard.  I've been silent about most of it. ...to the point that I've felt like I'm wasting away.  As I've been blogging about it, I find that Jesus is using my words to help heal me.  He's placing a tick mark on my heart, so I can look back and see that I've grown, even if it's a tiny bit.

Hard times are going to come.  I love how my amplified Bible said "great waters [of trial and distressing time] (and I've been through a few) OVERFLOW they will not reach [the spirit] in him."   Trials and distressing times will overflow (to the point of feeling like I'm drowning?) but God promises that they will not reach the spirit in me.  I'm gonna hide myself in Him.  I'm going to listen to His songs of deliverance that surround me.  I'm gonna echo the shouts of victory He has declared.  

You are my hiding place.

You always fill my heart

With songs of deliverance

Whenever I am afraid 

I will trust in You

I will trust in You

Let the weak say 

I am strong 

In the strength of the Lord

My Word: 2023 Edition

 I've never really done a Word of the Year.  Honestly....I've never really understood the trend. It never seemed to trigger anything in me, so I just let that idea slide right on by.  

Then....a couple of things happened.  

First, my sister started a "new tradition" for our family Christmas.  (I suppose it actually remains to be seen if it's actually a tradition...but it was at least new!)  She asked us to write on a piece a paper what we wanted to give Jesus for Christmas.  Then we placed it in a box and we will check in on ourselves in a year.  

Panic.  Vulnerability feels dangerous these days.  What do I have to offer Him? This year of upheaval has left me in a place that feels barren.  A season of waiting that looks like it will never end.   A season of feeling dead and desperate for a glimpse that new, green growth is there. What do I give Him? I scribbled something down and sent it to the "Treasure Chest."   There.  Done.

Then, about a week later, I had a conversation with my counselor.  She asked me if I had a Word for 2023.  Nope.  Not even sure I understand how to "get" a word.  We talked about it briefly, but that was all I really intended to do with that.  

I'm pretty sure Jesus has a sense of humor..... because He gave me a word the next day while I was writing in my prayer journal. Good grief.  I wasn't even looking for one. I didn't even really realize He'd given me the word until much later that night.(Guess I need a clobber on the side of the head sometimes!)  Fun thing is: I'm almost certain that my word matches my Christmas gift to Jesus!  I'm not sure though....my mini vulnerability panic attack blurred my memory up pretty good!

My word is TRUST.  My whole journal entry yesterday was about asking Jesus to help me trust.  To let my trust in Him override the anxieties that trounce through my mind and wreak havoc galore.  I want trust that is strong enough for times of quiet. For the times of being still...so still that I'm sure I'm dead.  I want trust that silences the voices of fear that roar and rage. I want a "trust that sings so loud and so sweetly that it drowns out" (my exact words) everything but Him.  

The Lord said, "Go out and stand on the mountain in the presence of the Lord, for the Lord is about to pass by." Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind.  After the wind there was an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake.  After the earthquake came a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire.  And after the fire came a gentle whisper.  I Kings 19:11-12

Seems like the gentle whisper of God creates its own kind of havoc! I think I'll snuggle in and sing a little song.  

 

I sing because I'm happy!

Last night I ended my blog post asking Jesus to teach me to sing.  For whatever reason, that phrase has been dancing with me all day long.  Why?  I have music in my background.  I've been singing (in church) for as long as I can remember.  Not that I'm all that good, but I can carry a decent tune.  So why was I stuck on the idea of Jesus teaching me to sing.  

Sometimes I'm a research nerd.  I give Tim grief for OVER researching things.  He kills me sometimes.  Me?  I like to delve into the meanings of words.  I love the depth and the richness that it adds to things.  I think that is why I like my new amplified Bible that I recently purchased.  I LOVE the depth.  

So, I came home and I googled: the benefits of singing.  There had to be benefits....because the silly thrush sparrow sings her most beautiful songs in raging storms.....and when she's hurt and wounded.  Crazy bird!  Is it even possible to be able to sing in the midst of a raging storm?? Wouldn't the wind steal the song right out of her mouth??  When I'm in the midst of an upheaval, or I'm hurting, I like to find a warm blanket, snuggle under and pretend that the rest of the world doesn't exist.  I most certainly do not set out to sing a delightful melody! 

So here I am.  Researching the benefits of singing.  

Here are some of my favorite benefits I found: 

• Improves sleep (I've been sleeping horribly....maybe I better do a few songs tonight)
• Relaxes overall muscle tension (again...I've been a knot...maybe I better.....)
• Opens up sinuses (A new cold remedy???)  
• Increases self-esteem and confidence (I've clearly not been singing enough)
• Enhances mood (Really????)
• Reduces anger, depression, and anxiety (ok.  ok.  I'm getting the hint!)
• Reduces stress
• And the crown jewel: Alleviates loneliness and acts as a social lubricant.  (hahahaha....social lubricant?????  What???)

If any of these reasons are even remotely true, I need to be stepping up my singing game.  

But I wasn't done there.  Of course I had to google what scripture had to say about singing.  I found an article titled, Seven Biblical Reasons Why Singing Matters by Tom Olson.  He had some interesting points, but the one that stuck out to me the most was "When you sing, you walk a God-designed pathway to joy."  Hmmmm.....here's a smattering of the verses he used.  I kind of like them.

But let all who take refuge and put their trust in You rejoice, Let them ever sing for joy; Because You cover and shelter them....Psalms 5:11

But as for me, I will sing of Your mighty strength and power; Yes, I will sing joyfully of your lovingkindness in the morning; for You have been my stronghold and a refuge in the day of my distress.  Psalm 59:16

For You have been my help, and in the shadow of your wings (where I am always protected) I will sing for joy.  Psalm 63:7

The author summed things up with this: "If you struggle for joy....sing! If you are joyful...sing! In God's perfect design and understanding of the human condition, he has bound joy and singing together for his people.  When you sing, you glorify God."

Please, Jesus, teach me to sing.   

 

 

 

Singing Lessons

Life is hard.  Not a very insightful statement, is it?  Yet sometimes I find myself surprised that life is hard. Again!  I get my panties all in a knot because my comfortable “normalness” has been disturbed and I have to adjust. 

*sigh*

My pastor said not too long ago, that in life, we are either recovering from a crisis, in the midst of a crisis, or about to head into a crisis. That statement rings true, doesn’t it? 

*double sigh*

 A few months ago, my work changed and I got my Fridays off. So. Good. For my soul!  Thank you, Jesus!  That extra day made so much difference in my attitude. The *big* upheavals in my life had sapped me dry and the relief this brought was almost palpable.  I’m pretty sure I cried in relief.  

I celebrated too quickly. I got the news a couple of days ago, with no warning, that Friday work would resume. For. One. Child. One. Not many. Just one. We’d all have to give up our Free Fridays for ONE child. I cried. A gift ripped right out of my hand just as I’d discovered it’s true value. An upheaval. 

Life never stays the same. Something always changes. Don’t sit back too long….because another upheaval is coming. Sometimes they are big upheavals like the death of a parent. Sometimes they are smaller upheavals like adjusting to loss of “free” time. 

In the midst of an upheaval. Recovering from an upheaval. Entering an upheaval. This cycle is the only constant in this life. So why can’t I just find contentment in that fact?  Why do I have to throw a little mental tantrum with every little upheaval?  

I learned a couple of weeks ago about the thrush sparrow. The thrush sparrow sings her most beautiful song in the midst of the worst storms. The harder the storm blows the more beautiful her song. 

Jesus, I want to be like the thrush sparrow.  I don’t want to wail when upheavals come my way (because they will!)  I want to sing my most beautiful song when the storms (big or small!) rage around me.  

Tuck me into the shadow of Your wings, Jesus,  and teach me to sing. 

Snuggled Safely

As I'm rebooting this blog of mine, and as I'm healing from one of the biggest Upheavals of my life, I want to document the ways Jesus is meeting me in my mess.  I don't want to forget these things.  My fickle mind is always "losing" things and I have to relearn them again and again.  You would think that Jesus would get tired of reminding me....but He seems to love me enough to teach me one more time.  

Oh I am thankful for that!

My high school years were less than awesome.  I was always the Odd Duck.  I didn't rebel against my parents.  I didn't do the drinking scene.  I didn't have boyfriends.  I loved Jesus.  In the eyes of my peers, I was Odd.  Being the negative ninny that I am, I struggled with that.  I felt lost.  

It was in high school Jesus gave me a vision that showed me how much He loved me.  He gave me a vision of Him cradling me in His hands, like a bird nestled carefully.  Yet He also was holding me snugly, like a small child, against His chest.  To this day, some 30+ years later, I still hold to that vision.  I think it was the beginning of my love affair with birds.  

Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, nor about your body, what you will put on,.  Is not life more than food and the body more than clothing?  Look at the birds of the air, they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them.  Are you not of more value than they? Matthew 6:25-27

So here I am with a love affair with birds.  God took the time to make them with beauty and variety and He cares for them.  Ah...He loves me too.  

So this Season of Upheaval. I've been clinging to Jesus with all that I'm worth.  I plead with Him to hide me in the shelter of His wings.  He gave me a verse to emphasize His care for me that expands the vision of my youth.  

"Therefore you are My witnesses," declares the Lord, "that I am He, and there is no one who can rescue from My hand." Isaiah 43:13

I love that in some versions "rescue from My hand" is "snatch from my hand."  No one can take me from the safety and security of Jesus' hands.  I am safe there.  I am loved.  

He still holds me.  No one can snatch me away.  I am His.  

Thank you, Jesus.   

An Invitation into Upheaval

Hello.  Long time no see!  Diving in.  Again. A reboot.  A refresh.  

Last night was New Years Eve.   New Years is soooo overrated.  

I said that to Daria yesterday and she laughed.  "You said that same thing 6 years ago!"  

I did not!  And then she proceeded to show me video evidence. *sigh*  

My thing with New Years is the attitude that we think we are leaving a Year of Yuck behind and we are headed into a Year of Yeah.  How long does it take before we realize that this new Year of Yeah is just another Year of Yuck.  A tale as old as time.  Nothing new under the sun.  So my proclamation stands.  New Years is soooo overrated.

As I wrestled to fall asleep last night, I was reminded of one of the Advent messages at church.  It was the Advent Sunday of Peace.  We talked about the angel's visit to Mary.  I think the Church always talks about what an amazing honor it was for Mary to be chosen to carry the Messiah.  But really?  The angel's visit and proclamation to Mary was really just an invitation into upheaval. From that moment, Mary's life was in complete upheaval.  For some reason, all I could think about last night was how completely upset Mary's life would have been.  Being misunderstood.  Scorned.  Shamed.  Reputation questioned. Lost relationships. Complete and utter upheaval.  In our terms...complete absence of peace.

And she accepted that Invitation without any reservation.  Full stop. With praise. 

2022 was a year of upheaval.  I most certainly have *not* been like Mary and accepted it without hesitation and with full praise.  I've accepted it with a whole bunch of kicking and screaming.  It's been hard.  

Yet, I've also found that 2022 was a year that has drawn me into the shadow of His wings in a new and fresh way.  The only place that I am safe is tucked tightly under His wing.  "Keep me here, Jesus," I beg over and over again.  As I think about this sermon on Mary's invitation into upheaval, I was reminded that Jesus promises His presence in the midst of the upheaval....not the absence of the upheaval.  

So here I am.  Rebooting a blog from ages past.  A blog that helped ground a busy Mom flustered with the chaos of raising three kids.  Now I'm a woman living in upheaval and needing to ground her raging thoughts in the heart of Jesus.  I need to lay things out in a way that "sticks"....that "lasts"...that feels like I've accomplished something for Jesus.  It might be just for me...but it's for Jesus.  I'm resting in Him and asking Him to mend my brokenness one little stitch at a time.  I want to lay out these thoughts so I can say:

 "SEE....you've healed a little. Don't forget."  

Thank you, Jesus.  

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 me.  Yet, 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.

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.

*sigh*

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.