Everyday Simple Abundance

Be faithful

2009-11-22T07:13:00.002-05:00

As Danica woke me at 6 am this morning with her usual "MAMA" call my heart felt discouraged. I am tired and a little bit depressed. The days all seem the same and my hours are full of he mudane. After I got her settled I opened my email and "Grace Gems" had this encouraging word:

Nothing more

(J. R. Miller, "Life's Byways and Waysides")

"Well done, good and faithful servant! You have been faithful with a few things; I will put you in charge of many things. Come and share your Master's happiness!" Matthew 25:21

No higher praise can be given to any life--than to say it has been faithful. No one could ask for a nobler epitaph than the simple words, "He was faithful." This will be the commendation given in the great account, to those who have made the most of their talents: "You have been faithful with a few things!" Faithfulness should therefore be the aim in all our living.

It is not great things that God expects or requires of us--unless He has given us great gifts and opportunities. All that He requires of us, is faithfulness. He gives us certain talents, puts us in certain relations, assigns to us certain duties--and then asks us to be faithful--nothing more. The man with the plain gifts and the small opportunities, is not expected to do the great things which are required of the man with the brilliant talents and the large opportunities. We should get this truth fixed deeply in our mind--that God asks of nothing more--than simple faithfulness.

Faithfulness is not the same in any two people. In the man who has five talents, there must be a great deal more outcome to measure up to the standard of faithfulness, than in the man who has but two talents.

Faithfulness is simply being true to God--and making the most of one's life. Of those who have received little--only little is required; where much has been received--much is required. Never does God expect anything impossible or unreasonable from anyone. If we are simply faithful--we shall please God.

Jesus said of Mary, after her act of love, when men murmured at her, "She has done what she could!" Mark 14:7. What had she done? Very little, we would say. She loved Jesus truly and deeply. Then she brought a flask of precious ointment and broke the flask, pouring the sacred nard upon her Lord's tired feet--those feet which soon were to be nailed to the cross.

What good did it do? We know it wonderfully comforted the Savior's sorrowful heart. Amid almost universal hatred, and maddening enmity--here was one who sincerely loved Him. While other hands were weaving a crown of thorns for His brow, and others still were forging cruel nails to drive through His feet--Mary's hands were pouring ointment on His head, and bathing His feet with the nard. Who will say that Mary's act did no good? It seemed a little thing--but we cannot fathom how her sweet, pure, loyal love--blessed our suffering Savior in His bitter anguish.

Thank you God for calling me to be faithful. Give me the grace to be faithful in dishes and laundry, Reading books and giving medicine and changing diapers. Help me to know you are glorified by these simple repetitive tasks done in the right spirit and always seeking to glorify your name.

How the miracle began

2009-11-16T08:29:00.005-05:00

March 23rd, 2007 is the day I found out I was pregnant. It was a Wednesday, and I stopped and bought a pregnancy test on my way to work. I had a private bathroom off my office and as soon as I peed on the little stick it was as positive as could be. We had been trying to have a baby. Delaney was four and a half, and I felt my career was stable and our family was very ready for an addition. Two days later I began running a fever and had horrible flu symptoms. I was a very busy lady and this illness took me completely down. I was hosting a birthday party for a friend at a wine bar in DC and was also supposed to attend an important open house that Saturday. The next week I was to leave for a week long work trip to Phoenix. By Sunday I began to bleed and after calling my OB knew I needed to stay completely in bed until the next morning when he could see me in his office. Dan took me and they did an ultrasound to find a very large subchorionic bleed threatening the sac. They told me my chances of miscarrying were about 80%. I went home and crawled in bed and cried my eyes out. I canceled my Arizona trip and stayed in bed but by Wednesday was barely spotting so I tried to go into work. As I walked up the stairs to my office I began to gush blood, and so Dan took me directly to my OB's office. The ultrasound showed what I had feared. The sac was gone. I had miscarried. He wanted me to go over to the hospital and have a DNC. I refused. I was too distraught. I told him I needed to go home and rest. He reluctantly gave me a prescription for methergen to try to get me to pass any other tissue left and sent me home. That afternoon I did pass a very large clot of something. I felt like it was the baby. So I took the next few days off work, grieving and trying to pull myself together. I told Dan I didn't want to try to have children anymore. We had our Laney. I couldn't do this. I would focus on my career and be thankful for what we had. Monday morning I went to my OB's office on my way in to work for a quick ultrasound to make sure I had nothing left inside that would cause an infection. I climbed upon the table, and she stuck the wand inside me. As loud as could be we heard it--the thumping of a tiny heart. I screamed "WHAT IS THAT?" and she got tears in her eyes and said softly, "You still have a baby inside you. It's a miracle." From that moment on I became one of the most remarkable pregnancy stories in their office. I still had a very large bleed and they reminded me my chances of losing the baby were still great but there had been no more baby just 5 days ago and here it was. (They explained I possibly had twins and lost one and the bleeding was so great they just missed the other baby.)

This is the beginning of Danica's amazing story. As I sit here in the hospital watching her sleep after almost eight hours of thrashing and screaming last night I have been crying and praying and remembering she is here by God's design. I don't completely know what I believe about miracles. I grew up thinking they were something we wouldn't really experience in this day and age because God doesn't choose to work that way anymore. I know now they are more common than we acknowledge. Just because we don't always have the eyes to see or the heart to give the glory doesn't mean they aren't here. The verse I claimed during my pregnancy was from Job 42:5 "I have heard of You by the hearing of the ear; But now my eye sees You."

The miracle continues in a coming post . . .

When I can't pray

2009-11-10T09:33:00.003-05:00

I know I should be blogging, writing in my own personal journal and praying during a week like this, but I can't. I am tired and weak and numb. I read this yesterday and it was exactly what God wanted to say to my grain of mustard seed faith.

I tried to pray this morning. I needed to pray. But the words just weren't there. I couldn't think. Was it because of the injury? The medications? I don't know. I don't know. I felt like someone in a little canoe out on a lake in a heavy fog. I would paddle first one way and then another, but I could never seem to go in a straight line or get any closer to shore. Everything seemed muffled and strange, and I couldn't see any landmarks to guide me.

And then I just got tired of paddling. Tired of even trying. So instead of reaching for words that wouldn't come, I just started thinking about Jesus: Walking the earth doing miracles. Touching the man at Bethesda. Holding the little children in His lap. Hanging on the cross. And now, lifted up so high. Beautiful, like the morning star just before sunrise.

That's when it hit me. Jesus was with me in that canoe, out in the fog. My landmark wasn't out there somewhere, He was in the boat. And I didn't need to talk just then. I could rest, feeling Him close, knowing He was there.
-Joni Eareckson Tada, A Lifetime of Wisdom

I know He's here. I don't need to patch words together. He is interceding. I can rest.

Failsafe

2009-11-02T10:12:00.000-05:00

"As I reconsider my own assumptions about relating to God, I now see them as misguided and simplistic. From childhood I inherited an image of God as a stern teacher passing out grades. I had the same goal as everyone else: to get a perfect score and earn the teacher's approval. Cut up in class and you'll be sent to the back of the room to stand in the corner or to a vacant room down the hall.

Almost everything about that analogy, I have learned, contradicts the Bible and distorts the relationship. In the first place, God's approval depends not on my "good conduct" but on God's grace. I could never earn grades high enough to pass a teacher's perfect standards - and, thankfully, I do not have to.

In addition, a relationship with God does not switch on or off depending on my behavior. God does not send me to a vacant room down the hall when I disobey. Quite the opposite. The times when I feel most estranged from God can bring on a sense of desperation, which presents a new starting point for grace. Sulking in a cave in flight from God, Elijah heard a gentle whisper that brought comfort, not a scolding. Jonah tried his best to run from God and failed. And it was at Peter's lowest point that Jesus lovingly restored him.

I tend to project onto God my understanding of how human relationships work, including the assumption that betrayal permanently destroys relationship. God, however, seems undeterred by betrayal (or perhaps has grown used to it): "Upon this rock," Jesus said to unstable Peter, "I will build my church." As Luther remarked, we are always at the same time sinners, righteous, and penitent. The halting, stuttered expressions of love we offer may not measure up to what God wants, but like any parent God accepts what the children offer."

AMAZING GRACE!!! Living in this truth today!

-Philip Yancey, Grace Notes

Chinks in my armor

2009-10-18T17:38:00.004-04:00

It always starts with being tired. This is my weakness. I have fibromyalgia and when you take away all the complicated reasons they say you have this condition it brings you to sleep deprivation and the inability of your body to restore itself. This creates a vicious cycle of pain and then less sleep and then other things go wrong and your immune systen is compromised, and it spirals out of control. I have not been feeling well since my strep/scarlet fever diagnosis last week, and took a day off my antibiotic because it was making me so sick to my stomach. I guess in hindsight that wasn't a good idea. By Friday night I was wiped and my throat was sore again, and I was so tired and discouraged. Around 2 am Danica woke up screaming like she often does these nights because of her pain and after that sleep was a lost cause for me.

Saturday morning came. It was wet and cold, and I had to get up and ready to take Delaney to her horse back riding lesson. I was in the worst humor you can imagine. Every little thing Dan did upset me. I mean why in the world was he vacuuming and washing dishes when I needed him to be watching Danica so I could get ready? (I know most of you are thinking I'm crazy now because who would complain about their husband getting up early to clean house, right?) I called him to come in the living room so I could tell him something about Danica's schedule while we were gone. I didn't want to yell because my throat hurt so badly. He didn't want to come, and I got mad. I stomped in and gave him a piece of my mind. He gave me a piece of his. I told him I can't take it anymore. And then he said under his breath the word we said we would never say again. The "D" word. A word we came all too close to several years ago. There it was. An fiery arrow piercing through the chink in my armor. I started to bleed. Hot tears spilled over, and I left with Delaney.

As I drove the almost hour to the stable I began to pray. Something amazing happens to your stubborn and proud heart when you get before your Savior. I didn't begin praying about how sorry I was, but that's where I ended up. I have to die to self. I have to realize I don't deserve any of this. I don't deserve these beautiful girls I am so blessed to serve. I don't deserve a marriage to a man who forgives me again and again and cares for me and loves me when I am so unlovable. Even on my hardest days when I feel the worst I am bought with a price. He must increase. I must decrease. I don't need a spa day or more "me" time or even a retreat from this battle I am waging. I need fresh grace to heal these wounds and the shield of faith to protect me next time the fiery darts come flying.

I know the next few months will be hard. I am preparing for tough decisions about Danica's chiari--more financial stress, less sleep, more fear, and pain--all things that could break me mentally, emotionally, physically and especially spiritually. How am I going to head into this battle before me? How will I stand? He answers me:

"Put on the whole armor of God, that ye may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil. For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places. Wherefore take unto you the whole armor of God, that ye may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand. Stand therefore, having your loins gird about with truth, and having on the breastplate of righteousness; And your feet shod with the preparation of the gospel of peace; Above all, taking the shield of faith, wherewith ye shall be able to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked. And take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God." Ephesians 6:11-17

Thank you for Your promise I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. Humble my heart. Protect my soul. Protect my family and my marriage. Help me stand.

The junk drawer

2009-10-11T11:56:00.006-04:00

Friday night Dan tucked Delaney in and she started a conversation with him about a discussion between her classmates at the lunch table about "the middle finger". We have always encouraged her to come to us with anything that she sees or hears that she doesn't understand or makes her feel uncomfortable. She attends a Christian school so the second graders knew this was a bad gesture but didn't know what it meant really and someone had suggested there was a bad word that went along with it. Delaney wanted to know the word. Dan came in our room to ask me what I thought the best decision was and together we both decided that she should just know it was a very yucky word and a bad hand gesture and although someday she would probably hear the word we didn't want it in her head right now.

So yesterday Delaney spent the day at my parents house because her cousin Avery was visiting, and I guess this was still weighing on her heart so she brought it up to my mom. My mom decided to tell her the word--the "F" word. Without getting into her reasoning, etc. let me just tell you I was livid. I wasn't just a little mad but the kind of mad where you think you are going to explode. After I had it out with her about why this wasn't her choice to make and what in the world was she thinking, I began to stew inside. When I got home I had to tell Dan and this got me all riled up again. As I tried to fall asleep it kept coming back to my mind.

This morning I felt pretty far from God and was home from church with strep throat. My heart was just stewing in this lack of forgiveness. I sat down in a puddle of God's sunshine and a moment of household peace and read a devotional from "The Sacred Ordinary" by Leigh McLeroy titled "Inside the Junk Drawer." She begins the devotional by describing the junk drawer in her kitchen (which sounds a lot like mine) and how it finally was so crammed with stuff it got stuck. She then goes on to write:

My heart has a junk drawer too. And I wish it would get stuck more often. I visit it when I’m searching for reasons why God shouldn’t love me. When I’m feeling lonely or useless or discouraged. And in it I find odd pieces of my own history that shouldn’t matter anymore but still do—some far older than a few candy pieces gone bad. This heart-drawer holds secret sins, confessed—forgiven!—but not yet removed from my memory’s outtake reel. Words I wish I’d never spoken. Words I wish I had. Failures. Lapses in ordinary kindness. Moments of misplaced shame. Old hurts I still pick the scabs from. Scars I like too much. This junk has been forgiven, or redeemed, or transformed—but still I hold on. It’s trash. All of it. So the next time this drawer hesitates to open, I mean to let it stay shut. If God has
forgotten its contents, then by his mercy I can too.

Formerly, when you did not know God, you were slaves to those
who by nature are not gods. But now that you know God—or
rather are known by God—how is it that you are turning back
to those weak and miserable principles? Do you wish to be
enslaved by them all over again?
Galatians 4:8–9 NIV

If your heart’s junk drawer is crammed full too, wouldn’t this be
a fine day to begin to empty it out completely? Where would you
choose to start?

Today I am starting with a piece of junk I threw in there just yesterday. Real love--God's love--does not harbor any wrongdoing. It is forgiving. Can I sit at the foot of the cross where every one of my sins is forgiven and hold this little hurt in my heart? I'm taking inventory of the rest of my stuff too. Making a list and really cleaning this junk drawer.

Thank you God that I do not have to be enslaved by bitterness and hurt when I feel I have been wronged. Teach me more about Your amazing sacrifice of forgiveness and grace so I can live free to love like You do.

Chiari

2009-09-20T10:59:00.004-04:00

Tuesday our little Danica had an MRI that revealed a chiari malformation in her brain. What this means in simple terms is she has a gap where most people's skulls are closed and so some of her brain is sticking out into her spinal column. Some people have this condition without symptoms, but in Danica's case she is presenting many of the most severe symptoms very early on. In many ways I think I felt initial relief knowing there is a real answer or cause to the torticollis and other issues she has been experiencing. But as I have researched and talked to several doctors over the last few days I am realizing the road ahead for us is not an easy one and includes some form of neurological surgery to try to give her relief and the best chance for normal development. I'm back to holding loosely.

On the front of Danica's baby book is a quote from Roy Lessin.
Just think,
you’re here not by chance,
but by God’s choosing.
His hand formed you
and made you the person you are.
He compares you to no one else—
you are one of a kind.
You lack nothing that
His grace can’t give you.
He has allowed you to be here
at this time in history
to fulfill His special purpose
for this generation.

Beginning March 23, 2007, the day I found out I was pregnant with this little girl, God has been making a way for Danica and preserving her life in miraculous ways. Friday Dan emailed me the verses from Psalm 139 I clung to while fighting for her those long months laying in the hospital. "For you have formed my inward parts; You have covered me in my mother's womb. I will praise You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made; Marvelous are Your works, And that my soul knows very well. My frame was not hidden from You, When I was made in secret, And skillfully wrought in the lowest parts of the earth. Your eyes saw my substance, being yet unformed. And in Your book they all were written, The days fashioned for me, When as yet there were none of them."

Do I believe God makes no mistakes? Do I believe He lovingly formed this child's skull and brain how we find it today to fulfill His purpose in her life and in ours? Do I believe we lack nothing God's grace can't give us including strength for today and the days ahead? My verse for this week has been Mark 9:24 "I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief."

I'm afraid. I'm so very tired. I know that trusting God with my child is perhaps the hardest thing He will ask me to do. As He grows my faith and asks me to rest in His promises. I will fall. I will have moments of anger and confusion. I will want to quit and walk away.

Oswald Chambers wrote, "Living a life of faith means never knowing where you are being led. But it does mean loving and knowing the One who is leading. It is literally a life of faith, not of understanding and reason — a life of knowing him who calls us to go." Knowing a God who is unchanging and will do everything He says He will do is the only way I will navigate through the next weeks and months. I believe.

Just as I am

2009-09-09T12:07:00.005-04:00

I only like clean, neat, pressed things. If something has a chip or a scratch or a wrinkle I really don't want it any more. Even if it can be fixed but I know where it was fixed I can't get that out of my mind, and it still drives me crazy. I have a sickness of sorts that follows me into almost every area of my life. I need things to be whole. Sunday as I was getting ready for church I pulled on my white sweater and noticed a little wrinkle in the front. Let me tell you this was a newly dry cleaned sweater that came off a hanger, and I know the wrinkle was probably not noticeable to any one else. I plugged the iron in and instead of taking the sweater off to iron the tiny spot I put the hot iron on my belly to try to quickly fix the problem. Well, just as I did that a huge spirt of steam came out and burned me. Not just an ouch--too hot--kind of burn but the kind that left two large burn marks on my stomach.

Every day sine then as I shower or get dressed I see these big red marks on my stomach, and I have been thinking about why I am so afraid to be a little messed up. Why do I feel like I have to keep holding everything together all the time? Would it be so bad to let someone see me with a wrinkled blouse or a dirty house or completely prostrate in tears because I am just too overwhelmed? I think as a Christian I am always supposed to be strong and courageous and full of peace and joy, etc. So today I found some quiet time and started searching the Bible and guess what? God delights in our brokeness. He came to clean up messes. He came to patch us back together with the super glue of His grace and make us whole. Not the kind of repair job where no one can see where we've been either. The kind where everyone can see we were shattered in a million pieces beyond hope and He fixed us! This brings Him glory! When I read the Psalms and the Old Testament prophets I see this so clearly. They weren't afraid to let it all hang out there. They had times of complete anguish over circumstances and sin and their own inadequacies. God included this over and over again in His Word for a reason.

So here I am. I'm a mess. It's ok. I've been saved by a God who has purged me with hyssop and made me clean. He has washed me and made me white as snow. He has bound up my broken heart and gently led me in paths of righteousness. He's not ashamed of the brokeness--the years of promiscuity, drug use, unfaithfulness, idolatry, and even murder. While I was yet a sinner He sent His Son to die for me. He calls me His daughter and He is my ABBA Father. I have been reading several blogs lately where godly women are brave enough to expose the cracks and tell the truth about just how big a mess their lives were before God saved them. I see the response of the readers and it reminds me how scared we are in the body of Christ to really be vunerable. We are afraid to share our sin and our stories of where grace found us. I know for sure this is exactly where God can be most glorified and where He can lovingly call others to Himself--speaking through our brokeness and His amazing love. I am praying for courage today to come to God and live before others just as I am.

Just as I am.
By: Charlotte Elliott

Just as I am, without one plea
But that thy blood was shed for me
And that thou bidd’st me come to thee
O Lamb of God, I come, I come.

Just as I am and waiting not
To rid my soul of one dark blot,
To thee, whose blood can cleanse each spot,
O Lamb of God, I come, I come.

Just as I am, though tossed about
With many a conflict, many a doubt,
Fightings and fears within, without,
O Lamb of God, I come, I come.

Just as I am, poor, wretched, blind;
Sight, riches, healing of the mind,
Yea, all I need, in thee to find,
O Lamb of God, I come, I come.

Just as I am, thou wilt receive,
Wilt welcome, pardon, cleanse, relieve;
Because thy promise I believe,
O Lamb of God, I come, I come.

Just a I am; thy love unknown
Has broken every barrier down;
Now to be thine, yea, thine alone,
O Lamb of God, I come, I come.

Prayer . . . REST

2009-08-31T14:08:00.002-04:00

I have spent my day frantic, in tears and desperation because I have sought answers for months now in ways to heal my daughter and feel no closer to any real help for this little one. A failed attempt at her sedation and MRI last week and now a fever keeping us from sedation and botox tomorrow. I wonder if they are signs from God to turn away from such invasive efforts. If so, what else am I to do? Where am I to turn? How am I to pay for new efforts when You have only given me so much? I want to control this situation. I want the timing to be now. I have to fix this.

I settle my sick baby to nap and instead of work that needs done I quiet my heart and reach for His truth, "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest." Matthew 11:28

I go back to a post from dear Ann at A Holy Experience, "What could change everything: A pilgrimage into prayer" Yes, prayer is the essence of rest. This baby girl is His, not mine. He loves her infinitely more than I do, and He is working His perfect plan in Her life and mine. He will lead us closer to Him through every challenge because His yoke is easy and His burden is light. REST. PRAY. REST. PRAY. REST.

Small Acts

2009-08-19T19:40:00.008-04:00

I guess you can say I took the summer off from blogging. I began writing privately, and it made me even more real with God and myself about the work He is doing in me. I feel sad though as I come back to this little place where I live out loud and see so many days missing.

The weeks gone from here were so much the same, and in many ways I numbed myself to the monotony. I spent much of the past three months driving to and from the Chldren's hospital with my Danica taking her to doctor's appointments and physical therapy that really seemed to be doing very little good. I spent the nights running lists on a database which is about as exciting as watching grass grow. In between I would make the beds, make lunch, clean up lunch, make dinner, clean up dinner, give the girls baths, read a story, put them to bed. I would think, "If only I didn't have to run these lists and could enjoy being a full time mom. Then I would be happy." I remembered summers growing up with trips to the pool and playing outdoors for hours and fun activities planned by my mom. I felt bitter and resentful that my kids were trapped indoors while I hopped on and off my laptop for work. Some days I would literally long for a different life. I know this sounds horrible, but it's true. Not a different husband or children or house or car but a life back in the midst of people doing work that makes a difference--something I could see in the Saturday paper and eventual sales. Praying, "If I HAVE to work then please let it be something I WANT to do." I love marketing because it is results driven and success is measured in tangible ways. Creating lists for random clients certainly not so rewarding. Each time I would begin to dust off my resume and search for a way out of this angst God would answer with another reason why I need to be HERE, patiently showing me THIS daily life is His perfect plan for me.

I have prayed a lot about how to make my circle of relationship larger through church and find God saying no to even that right now. When someone would have a baby or would have surgery I would sign up to take a meal. Then it became not just a sacrifice but a near impossibility to minister in this way because of the therapy schedule and my work. God saying to me, "Be faithful right here, right now." Why is this sometimes the hardest thing to do? I couldn't even find time to have coffee with a friend or make it out of the house for a book club or a hair cut. Not a matter of changing priorities or making "me" time, simply the true and constant need for me to be at home working and caring for my girls. Why is the ministry to my husband and my children not enough for me? Why do I need affirmation from someone else, somewhere else, doing something else?

In a beautifully written book, by L.L. Barkat, "Stone Crossings, Finding Grace in Hard and Hidden Places," she says in a chapter about sacrifice,

". . .Or maybe on that day Jesus will speak to each of us much as He spoke to Peter. Maybe he will meet us over a fish breakfast, look us in the eye and say, "Did you love Me? Did you tend my sheep? Did you care for my children?" Tending sheep is a mundane job. It is a lot of the same old, same old--the way we feed kids breakfast, lunch and dinner, or drive to the office and deal with the same people day after day. It is repetitive, like building a stone wall rock by rock across the landscape. So it's easy for us to overlook the power of small acts that are folded again and again into the meandering swish of common love. . . Because the rewards are quiet, being dependable in common love is not always inviting. The reward of putting rock on rock isn't always visible. Sometimes the work is dirty. We get scraped and bored. We don't always see the wall of grace we're building for the Lord."

Today my Laney headed back to school and second grade. The house is quieter, and I miss her. Danica is a little lost without her big "sishy" to tussle with and play with and to read books to her and show her the ropes. Tomorrow Danica will head back to the hospital for an MRI, more tests to try to find the cause of her little crooked neck. What will we remember of the last three months together? SACRIFICE. All of us--giving up things we wanted to be doing, places we wished we could go to place lasting stones of loving one another in small acts into the great wall of grace this family is becoming.

"Whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus." Col 3:17

MIA

2009-06-19T12:44:00.005-04:00

Wow, it's been so long since I wrote here. Sometimes life just takes you down to a place where any meaningful writing needs to be kept private. I know the people who are are brave enough to share their hearts during those times are often the best writers, but I am not there yet. I have been thinking and feeling and praying some really raw and ugly things about my circumstances and wrestling with principalities and powers. I can tell you God is always victorious, but I am battle weary to a point I may have never been before. This morning as I watched the rain falling I prayed the words of this beautiful song by "Mercy Me." Jesus, bring the rain! Be glorified through all this and make me more like You.

Learning to Love

2009-05-22T08:17:00.002-04:00

"Learning to love differently is hard,
love with the hands wide open, love
with the doors banging on their hinges,
the cupboard unlocked, the wind
roaring and whimpering in the rooms . . ." Marge Piercy

I'm praying this morning for God to teach me about REAL love. Love that is patient and kind. Love that does not envy, does not boast and is not proud. Love that isn't rude or self-seeking and is not easily angered. Love that keeps no record of wrongs. Love that does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. Love that always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always endures.

In our crazy Oprah, Dr. Phil culture filled with so much psychotherapy and humanism we are taught to set up healthy boundaries and only love so far. We are told to protect ourselves and look out for our interests first. And so Satan tricks me into thinking there is an acceptable time to cut off someone who is just too hard to love. He tells me I just can't keep walking down this path with someone who has made so many bad choices; someone who has caused so much hurt for so many and can't even see it or feel it. As I turn around to leave, God's grace and amazing love to me stop me in my tracks. I was the unlovely. I was the one who wounded everyone I touched with selfish and sinful lies for so long. I was the one who needed the persistent reflection of Christ's love by people who were not keeping records of my wrongs but ever trusting, hoping, and enduring in their love of my soul.

Thank You for never washing your hands of me or turning away but relentlessly pursuing my heart. Please, Lord, teach me how to love like You do. Give me Your grace and help me to show it in tangible ways to the ones I find it so hard to love.

Life is wonderful

2009-04-27T20:48:00.010-04:00

Dan and I were able to sneak away to Cleveland for an overnight date on Saturday. With so many things pressing on our minds and hearts and so much work and so little play these past weeks we completely and thoroughly enjoyed every minute of our time together. There are moments in your marriage you wish you could bottle because they are so pure and so full of the truth,"It takes no time to fall in love, but it takes you years to know what love is."

One of my favorite songs of late is Jason Mraz's "Life is Wonderful." The melody and the lyrics remind me how really good the day in and day out can be if we would keep our minds and hearts open for the little gifts all around us. This weekend with my Dan was like this song, and I am so thankful for the wonderful life God has given us. Our ten years together have definitely taken us full circle through every facet of better or worse, richer or poorer, sickness and health and each one has taught us that we need them all to keep us loving and growing.

It takes a crane to build a crane
It takes two floors to make a story
It takes an egg to make a hen
It takes a hen to make an egg
There is no end to what I'm saying

It takes a thought to make a word
And it takes some words to make an action
It takes some work to make it work
It takes some good to make it hurt
It takes some bad for satisfaction

La la la la la la la life is wonderful
Ah la la la la la la life goes full circle
Ah la la la la la la life is wonderful
Ah la la la la

It takes a night to make it dawn
And it takes a day to you yawn brother
And It takes some old to make you young
It takes some cold to know the sun
It takes the one to have the other

And It takes no time to fall in love
But it takes you years to know what love is
It takes some fears to make you trust
It takes those tears to make it rust
It takes the dust to have it polished

Ha la la la la la la life is wonderful
Ah la la la la la la life goes full circle
Ah la la la la la la life is wonderful
Ah la la la la

It is, it is so....
And it is, it is so...

It takes some silence to make sound
And it takes a loss before you found it
And it takes a road to go nowhere
It takes a toll to make you care
It takes a hole to make a mountain

Ah la la la la la la life is wonderful
Ah la la la la la la life goes full circle
Ah la la la la la la life is wonderful
Ah la la la la la la love is meaningful
Ah la la la la la la life is wonderful
Ah la la la la la la love

It is so wonderful
It is so meaningful
It is so wonderful
It is so meaningful
It is wonderful
It is meaningful
It goes full circle

Wonderful
Meaningful
Full Circle
Wonderful

Steady as we go

2009-04-20T17:02:00.002-04:00

I haven't written much lately mostly because I began to feel like what I have to say is too personal for this forum. It's really hard to tell the truth out loud and although I am always "preaching" about how that's how we should live and love one another I have found it almost impossible these past weeks.

Life has a funny way of adding layers of tough stuff and without even realizing it's happening you wake up and realize you would rather just not get out of bed and face all the junk. When this happens to me I know I can roll over and find my Dan. He is always reminding me how far we have come together and encouraging me to just take today as it comes. If I forget my philosophy of gratitude and grabbing golden moments, he is there to dance with me in the sunlight and fresh air on a perfect April Friday night to a Dave Matthews song that means so much to us. He whispers in my ear, "Steady as we go."

Thank You for this man. Give us continued joy for the journey and keep us steady on the only real foundation for marriage and for life, our God.

"Steady As We Go"

I walk half way around the world,
Just to sit down by your side.
And I would do most anything girl,
To be the apple of your eye.

Troubles they may come and go,
But good times they are the gold.
And if this road gets rocky girl,
Just steady as we go.

Any place you wanna go,
Know I'll be next to you.
If it's treasure baby you're looking for,
I'll search the whole world through.

Know troubles they may come and go,
But good times they're the gold.
So if the road gets rocky girl,
Just steady as we go.

When the storm comes,
You shelter me.
And I don't say a word,
And you know exactly what I mean.
In the darkest times,
You shine on me.
You set me free.
And keep me steady as we go.

So if your heart rings dry my love,
I will fill your cup.
And if your load gets heavy girl,
I will lift you up.

Troubles they may come and go,
But good times be the gold.
So if this road gets rocky girl,
Just steady as we go.

Ah
Hold me,
Shine on me.
Oh, shine, shine,
Shine on me.
Shine, shine
Yeah shine on me.
Hey shine.

To know and be known

2009-04-01T19:59:00.003-04:00

My dear Delaney has a best friend, Lauren. They are six and seven years old and love one another in a pure way that only little girls can. Lauren left yesterday for an early spring break and Delaney is lost. It truly is as if part of her is missing. I love to watch the two of them and know in my heart that friendships can really begin this early and last a lifetime. I know this because I have one that has.

I met my Angie when I was 5 and she was 8. I remember the first time I saw her. She had beautiful long dark hair, big expressive eyes and she was gorgeous. Although we knew one another from our small church and school she was older than I was so any attention from her was very special to me. In my early teen years we became inseparable and for some reason any social barriers from the age difference melted away. We were alike in so many ways. We shared a love of words and ideas that most others would laugh at. We were dramatic and silly and very serious too. We were old souls and felt things deeply. We shared a history that could not easily be explained to new friends and certainly not understood. We were knit together by formative years of joy and pain and a rare love.

There were many years of time apart. After attending the same college I took a path of sin and selfishness, and we fell out of touch. It was only a year and a half ago when I learned of Angie's breast cancer diagnosis that I was drawn to reconnect with her. I had just gone through a long and painful hospitalization, and I knew I needed to find her and love her.

The first time we emailed and then talked on the phone it was as if not a day had passed. Although so much life had happened in between, including marriage and children, our hearts remained the same, and we still owned the pieces we had kept so carefully all those years. Angie speaks of our friendship as knowing and being known. Yes, that's it. It's a rare and precious gift.

I finally took a trip last weekend to Virginia to be with my Angie. Although I spend my days breathing her life in thought and prayer, there is no substitute for friendship in the flesh. I have wanted to put into words the details of our time together and the emotions behind it. For some reason I cannot. The journey we have taken together since our reconnection is littered with Angie's fight against cancer and all the evil it brings with it. I can tell you the dark and ugly shadows of her struggle have only emphasized the light of our great God's love, the author of our friendship. When I hold her hand I can feel how fragile life is and how achingly beautiful each moment we are given HAS to be. Reluctantly, I hold it loosely, knowing she belongs to God and He has each day of her life written in His book, but I beg Him for more time to know and be known by this dear one and please, a place right next to her when we get to Heaven!

Mighty to Save

2009-03-30T21:49:00.006-04:00

This song has been on my my lips for so many reasons these days. I spent the weekend in a town in Virginia where I used to live, a place where I spent the most painful and sin filled years of my life. As I drove the streets of Harrisonburg I saw God's grace to me on every corner and this anthem rang louder and louder in my heart. Is there someone you are praying for tonight that seems just too far gone for God to reach them? He is mighty to save!

"He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted" Isaiah 61:1

2009-03-18T11:00:00.005-04:00

The Hebrew word for "broken" in this verse is "shavar" meaning "to burst, break into pieces, wreck, crush, smash; to rend, tear in pieces (like a wild beast) . . ." My heart is broken today. I found out news about someone I have loved my entire life. The repercussions of choices she has made will ripple through many lives in the coming days, weeks, months and years. More hearts and lives will be broken. I have painfully moved in the last 24 hours from anger and any personal hurt to a deep wounded cry to my God to save a soul that is clearly lost and certainly deceived. I am convicted because I have not spoken the truth to her in the past months. In many ways I have turned a blind eye to blatant sin because I am tired and overworked and busy with my life and deep down afraid of losing affection or what little relationship we have. What I believe is God's Word has the power to save and change lives and keep one from sin and destruction and still I held back from speaking absolutes. This failure on my part to share the Gospel is also heartbreaking.

In one of my favorite passages in the Bible the prophet Isaiah says "This sin will become for you like a high wall, cracked and bulging, that collapses suddenly, in an instant. It will break into pieces like pottery." Isaiah 30:13-14 So, where do we go when our hearts are smashed into a million pieces? Where do I point someone I love when their selfish choices collapse around them? Isaiah follows in verse 15 with the beautiful answer for all of life's brokenness, "In returning (or repentance) and rest is your salvation." Christ was sent to heal the brokenhearted. Strong's Dictionary has a very visual definition to the word "bind up" as " to compress, . . . to stop." God defines a broken heart as one that is hemorrhaging. Beth Moore says in her Bible study, Breaking Free, "The idea of compressing the hemorrhaging heart is very much like the practice of applying pressure to a badly bleeding wound. What a wonderful picture of Christ! A crushing hurt comes to our heart and the sympathizing, scarred hand of Christ presses the wound; and just for a moment, the pain seems to intensify . . . but finally the bleeding stops. Oh my friend, are you beginning to see the intimate activity of Christ when we're devastated?"

Thank You, God, for the healing hand of my Savior on life's deepest wounds. Give me faith to believe You can bind up even this situation and the hearts and lives involved. Please give strength and grace in the coming days and, God, please show Your saving love to each soul and bring peace.

Spring is a Promise

2009-03-09T07:55:00.002-04:00

Spring is a promise
in the closed fist
of a long winter. All
we have is a raw
slant of light at a low
angle, a rising river
of wind, and an icy rain
that drowns out green
in a tide of mud. It is
the daily postponement
that disillusions.
(Once again the performance
has been canceled by
the management.) We live
on legends of old
springs. Each evening
brings only remote
possibilities of
renewal: "Maybe
tomorrow." But the
evening and the morning
are the umpteenth day
and the God of sunlit
Eden still looks
on the weather
and calls it good.

It's no secret I love Luci Shaw's poetry. After a weekend of warm temperatures and open windows we are back to a cold rain today and this poem reminds me it is all good.

I spent much of the weekend holding up my dear Angie in prayer as she was back in the hospital with an infection. I wrestled with God over His purpose in allowing more trial. I prayed He would help Angie to see the "raw slant of light" in the midst of another cold rain. I prayed she would be able to hold onto the promises of her God, our God, that renewal is coming and even this is working for good. As I pray truth I struggle with my own doubt. Is spring really coming?

He who promised is faithful

2009-02-22T10:49:00.004-05:00

Here I am on another Sunday morning not at church. I have a hard time reconciling what I believe about God being in control of every aspect of my life and how much power Satan has to keep me away from the assembling of believers. Yesterday I thought things were pretty much back to normal. Dan and I were able to sneak out and have lunch together while my parents watched the girls. Delaney was finally feeling better, and I had promised to take her to the 3D movie, Coraline at 7pm. Going to the movies is a very special treat in and of itself but for a little girl who has a 7pm bedtime that rarely wavers it was a really big deal. As we set out at 6:15pm to head to the theater I could tell she was acting a little strange. 5 minutes into our 10 minute drive I asked her a question and didn't get an answer. "Delaney, are you awake back there?" I shouted. She answered quietly, "Yes, just wake me up when we get there." The pouring rain began to turn to snow and ice, and I could barely see. I told her how this costs a lot of money, and I really don't think we should go now if she is tired and can't enjoy it and reminded her how bad the roads could get in two hours while we were inside the theater. She insisted we must go. As we were sitting the light to turn into the parking lot she begins to cry, "Mom, I am going to throw up. I need air. I need to go home. Roll down my window." So, we made our way home without any throw up in the car, and I am thinking in my head, "God, I can't do it. I just can't do more illness. You know I need to go to church tomorrow. I NEED it!"

Here I am. Delaney is still under the weather. I missed church. I told my husband I needed to go to our room for an hour and finish my Bible study for this evening. I haven't been for almost a month, and I really need to get out of this house and be with people and be encouraged. As I opened my Bible to read the passage for this week I began to weep reading the words. Every single thing I was dealing with this week was addressed in the verses in Hebrews 10:19-25.

A Call to Persevere in Faith

Therefore, brothers and sisters, since we have confidence to enter the Most Holy Place by the blood of Jesus, by a new and living way opened for us through the curtain, that is, his body, and since we have a great priest over the house of God, let us draw near to God with a sincere heart in full assurance of faith, having our hearts sprinkled to cleanse us from a guilty conscience and having our bodies washed with pure water. Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful. And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds, not giving up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another—and all the more as you see the Day approaching.

Wow. He is faithful. I can come with confidence through the blood of my Savior. My conscience should be clear and my life transformed by the washing of His blood and the changing work of the Holy Spirit. In John MacArthur's commentary of Hebrews he references Romans 5:10 and paraphrases it this way, "If His death could do so much to save me, what must His life be doing in the presence of God to keep me!"

As I studied each verse I became more peaceful. God was answering my doubt and fear and struggles of the week with His promises. The end of this passage was the best part. "Don't give up on church! You are right! You need this. Recommit yourself. Even when things are hard or impossible, your desire to be there is proof He is alive in you." Again John's words stuck, "The only place where we can remain steadfast until He returns is with His people." This is an area of my life where I have not fully obeyed Him. I am so thankful He has worked in my life to move me from believing that a personal relationship with Him was enough. He has healed many of my old wounds from past church experiences that Satan had used to deceive me into thinking I didn't need the body of Christ to grow and flourish. I have so much further to go. This month of isolation and discouragement is a loving prompt from my God that I need to be encouraged by other believers. I need fellowship.

Thank You for speaking directly to me through Your Word today. Thank You that You are a God who is faithful to keep every promise. Thank You for making a way through Your Son for me to approach You boldly and crawl into Your loving arms with a clean conscience and be at peace.

Keep Saving Me

2009-02-20T12:40:00.006-05:00

It's been forever since I have sat down to write. There are many reasons for that, but I guess the biggest one is I often hesitate to put into words the really hard days because the gratitude is buried under physical pain and fatigue and a hurting heart. I haven't been to church in a month. I have probably been out of this house a total of 5 hours in the last month. I have been working more than I'd like and dealing with continued recovery from surgery and sick kids. All the normal life stuff that makes the days run into one another like an endless stream of gray. Believe me, I am still mining the drudgery and monotony and the ordinary for blessings, but I am afraid if I stop I might not be able to start again. So, the gifts are like spots of color, out of focus because of my frenetic need to keep moving and doing and working.

Of course, the most beautiful and vibrant gift, my salvation, also becomes distorted when I operate this way. Satan attacks me and tells me the lack of joy I feel and my waning desire for the Word and prayer is because God is letting me go. He knew it wouldn't last. I could never fight the good fight or finish the race. He tells me to let the gray turn to black and just give up.

On Wednesday morning I was just about ready to lose my mind. Dan was working 3-11 that day and Delaney was home sick so I told Dan I was going out to clear my head and get a cup of coffee. When I got in the car the song, "Savior Please, Keep Saving Me", sung by Josh Wilson came on the radio. Here's the thing. When I first heard this song I was a little bothered by it. I have always been taught you can't lose your salvation and somehow the main line from this song irritated me. For the first time I listened to the words and through tears I breathed this prayer,

Savior, please take my hand
I work so hard, I live so fast
This life begins, and then it ends
And I do the best that I can, but I don't know how long I'll last

I try to be so tough
But I'm just not strong enough
I can't do this alone, God I need You to hold on to me
I try to be good enough
But I'm nothing without Your love
Savior, please keep saving me

Savior, please help me stand
I fall so hard, I fade so fast
Will You begin right where I end
And be the God of all I am because You're all I have

Hallelujah
Everything You are to me
Is everything I'll ever need
And I am learning to believe
That I don't have to prove a thing
'Cause You're the one who's saving me

My Savior is the author and FINISHER of my faith. He sits at the right hand of God and intercedes for me. He was tempted in all ways as I am but without sin. He began a good work and will be faithful to complete it.

Thank you for continuing to save me. Thank you for the light of Your love ever peeking through the clouds of the life reminding me to lay aside every weight, hold fast and endure, always celebrating so great a salvation.

I carry your heart

2009-02-10T11:14:00.002-05:00

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
i fear
not fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

e.e. cummings

Thank you for the privilege and great blessing of carrying my Dan's heart for these eight years of marriage. Please, God, keep the tree of our love growing deeper and higher and may we never lose the wonder of this gift.

Puddle of sunshine

2009-02-06T10:12:00.003-05:00

Almost nothing makes me happier than sitting in a puddle of sunshine. I am solar powered, and I need the light to be okay. If you could see my home you would see my chair (momma bear's chair) sitting by my bookcase and kitty cornered to a big old door with 15 panes of light reflecting glass, ceiling to floor, that create the warmest spot on even the coldest Ohio day as long as the sun is shining. This morning I am sitting here, and I have a million things I want to write about since my surgery and solitude, but I can't help but whisper a "thank you" for this warmth and light right now.

"I am the light of the world. He who follows me shall not walk in darkness, but have the light of life." John 8:12

When I am afraid I will trust in You

2009-01-26T13:54:00.006-05:00

I am not a brave person. I hide from things that scare me all the time or I let my fear paralyze me. As I head into my surgery tomorrow I have been thinking about my fears and what place they have in my life as a Christian. Like everything these days I am asking what God has to say about being afraid. I pulled out a chapter titled The Grip of Fear from the book "Choosing Rest" by Sally Breedlove. Here are some quotes from the parts I have highlighted and read over and over this past month.

" . . . Do we really want the gift of peace in the midst of our fears? Or do we insist that God solve our problems so that our rest flows from what He has done for us?

Sometimes our worry is the thread by which we hang onto the belief that we can do something to change our situation and end our fear. As ridiculous as it is, we believe that our anxiety gives us some measure of control. Or we believe it keeps God mindful of our problem. We are afraid that without the pressure of our fear, He might forget what we want from Him. But our anxiety and demanding prayers accomplish nothing . . ."

This describes me and my worrying heart perfectly. How do I find peace and rest tonight in the midst of wanting to control the outcome tomorrow?

"In the midst of our worry, all we want is out; all we want is for God to solve it. Despite his longings David faced his fears, taking them back to God again and again. Eventually the battle inside him began to subside. His testimony is not that of a man who once and for all released his fears into God's hands, but rather that of a man who turned back to God each time the tide of fear rose in his soul.

Evening, morning and noon
I cry out in distress,
and He hears my voice.
He ransoms me unharmed
from the battle waged against me,
even though many oppose me. (Psalm 55: 17-18)

The gate to the rest we long for in the midst of our fears is gained only by persistence. Again and again as our hearts fill up with fear, we turn to the Lord who is ever patient, who never shames us for our faltering, whose heart is always open wide."

When I was a child and would be frightened at night my mom would always quote the verse from Isaiah 26, "You will keep Him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on You, because He trusts in You." My God is good. His arms are open wide tonight waiting for me to rest in His perfect plan.

Thank You for being patient when I struggle with doubt and worry. Help me to trust You more and turn back time and time again to Your rest. Please help me keep my mind on You and give me Your perfect peace as I have surgery tomorrow.

The Station

2009-01-23T13:03:00.004-05:00

Before I met my husband in person we began emailing one another after the prodding of a mutual friend. I asked him what his philosophy of life was and he sent me the following essay by Robert Hastings called "The Station".

Tucked away in our subconscious minds is an idyllic vision in which we see ourselves on a long journey that spans an entire continent. We're traveling by train and, from the windows, we drink in the passing scenes of cars on nearby highways, of children waving at crossings, of cattle grazing in distant pastures, of smoke pouring from power plants, of row upon row upon row of cotton and corn and wheat, of flatlands and valleys, of city skylines and village halls.

But uppermost in our conscious minds is our final destination--for at a certain hour and on a given day, our train will finally pull into the Station with bells ringing, flags waving, and bands playing. And once that day comes, so many wonderful dreams will come true. So restlessly, we pace the aisles and count the miles, peering ahead, waiting, waiting, waiting for the Station.

"Yes, when we reach the Station, that will be it!" we promise ourselves. "When we're eighteen. . . win that promotion. . . put the last kid through college. . . buy that 450SL Mercedes-Benz. . . have a nest egg for retirement!" From that day on we will all live happily ever after.

Sooner or later, however, we must realize there is no Station in this life, no one earthly place to arrive at once and for all. The journey is the joy. The Station is an illusion--it constantly outdistances us. Yesterday's a memory, tomorrow's a dream. Yesterday belongs to a history, tomorrow belongs to God. Yesterday's a fading sunset, tomorrow's a faint sunrise. Only today is there light enough to love and live.

So, gently close the door on yesterday and throw the key away. It isn't the burdens of today that drive men mad, but rather the regret over yesterday and the fear of tomorrow. Regret and fear are twin thieves who would rob us of today. "Relish the moment" is a good motto, especially when coupled with Psalm 118:24, "This is the day which the Lord hath made; we will rejoice and be glad in it."

So stop pacing the aisles and counting the miles. Instead, swim more rivers, climb more mountains, kiss more babies, count more stars. Laugh more and cry less. Go barefoot oftener. Eat more ice cream. Ride more merry-go-rounds. Watch more sunsets. Life must be lived as we go along. The Station will come soon enough.

I didn't know much about Dan then, but I knew I wanted to spend my life with someone who wanted to live and love this way. I had so many painful regrets in my short 23 years and was so afraid of my future. I was just taking the first steps in my gratitude journey and this essay seemed like a road map.

Dan and I have known one another 10 years now and been married almost 8 of those years. Today as I was changing the sheets, doing laundry, emptying the dishwasher, running lists, all getting ready for my surgery on Tuesday, I kept thinking about our time together. These words were really an ideal we couldn't even understand fully when we met. Only in the past year and a half have we grown into this way of soaking in the preciousness of one another in the here and now. We have lost so many THINGS and found a freedom that comes from only carrying the weight of what truly matters.

Thank you for my Dan. Thank you for not just preserving our marriage but making it grow and flourish. Keep teaching us to rejoice and be glad in THIS day You have made.

Why I always shave my legs before I head to the hospital

2009-01-17T11:18:00.003-05:00

Remember how your mom would always tell you to make sure you change your underwear in case you get in an accident? Ok, maybe that was just my mom. Well, after my umpteen admissions to Shady Grove hospital during my last pregnancy, which always seemed to end up in scans and then some kind of procedure or surgery, I learned to shave my legs before I went no matter how much pain I was in. The last admission ended up being over 3 weeks and after they put me in a constant epidural with wires going into my back I wasn't permitted to shower or shave at all. There were a lot of horrible things about my experience but for someone who is OCD and pretty obssessed with hair removal I thought I would go out of my mind. Shaving our legs is initially a rite of passage for girls that quickly turns into a pain in the you know where. Oh how I have grumbled about the never ending task of shaving. I can honestly say if I won the lottery I would run not walk to have laser hair removal and reclaim hours of my life spent removing hair.

Today I head to the hospital for a CT scan to see what kind of ugly things might lurk in my abdomen causing me so much pain. I thought about just pulling on jeans and a sweatshirt and going like a bum, but then my fear of becoming captive there for some kind of unseen reason took over and all I could think of was, "What if I can't shave my legs!" As I went through my ritual in the shower I realized this is how my mind and heart have changed. Something as silly as shaving has become a reason for praise. Today I am here, healthy enough to shower and yes, remove hair from my legs. It's a good day. It's true, when you lose almost everything the world becomes a different place. Every moment is a gift and my God is always good.

Bubbly

2009-01-14T10:07:00.004-05:00

We have only this moment, sparkling like a star in our hand... and melting like a snowflake. Let us use it before it is too late. Marie Beyon Ray

I am learning to hold on to moments. This morning when I went in to get my Danica out of her cribby I looked at her sweet smile and arms lifted to greet me and there was nothing else in my world or in hers but that feeling. This Colbie Callait song, Bubbly, makes me think of both my girls and what snuggle bugs we are and how happy they make me.

Thank You for little gifts wrapped in minutes. Open my eyes to see Your love in everything around me and help me to use each moment up.

Bubbly - Colbie Caillat

Christ is praying for me

2009-01-12T12:01:00.003-05:00

"If I could hear Christ praying for me in the next room, I would not fear a million enemies. Yet distance makes no difference. He is praying for me." Robert Murray Mc'Cheyne

My dear friend Angie sent me this quote awhile ago. I jotted it down and have thought of it from time to time, but as I have been studying the book of Hebrews the powerful truth that Christ is actually making intercession for me has become more real, and I am amazed. So, what is He praying about? Last night in GROW we read from John 17 the prayer of Jesus for Himself, for His disciples and for all believers, and as many times as I have read through the book of John I have never thought of the passage as a detailed account of what my Savior is actually praying for me. His greatest desire for me and what He asks of His Father is that I would be sanctified,"Sanctify them by Your truth. Your word is truth." It made me realize how often my prayers for myself and others are full of pleas for assistance regarding earthly things when so clearly every aspect of my prayers, whether bringing temporal or spiritual concerns, should really focus on the heart and life becoming more Christ like.

If I could hear Christ praying for me today, it would not necessarily be about the stabbing pain in my left ovary and what decisions have to be made regarding my health. Although I know He cares deeply for every detail of my life, I believe He would be asking that my response to another thorn in my flesh reflect His grace and goodness. He would be asking that I would not succumb to Satan's temptations to fear the unknown and the physical pain but trust in the truth that my God is good and all wise and let that truth transform my mind and heart day by day. He is praying my outward response to this and any circumstance He brings reflect to the world His light and love. He is really praying for one thing, my sanctification, making me more like Him. What peace I would find if I could really grasp knowing the greatest desire of my heart is the continual prayer of Christ for me. Everything in my life is to this end, to become like my Savior.

Thank You for the comfort found in the truth that You live to continually make intercession for me. Teach me how to pray more like You. Make the focus of my prayers more about heart matters and less about things that are passing away.

January

2009-01-07T07:38:00.004-05:00

On this icy morning with more snow in the forecast I feel a gnawing angst. The holidays are over, and I look at the mostly blank calendar stretching before me with nothing more than day in and day out routine. This poem from Luci Shaw reminds me even this bleak month of January has cause for praise if I embrace the details of this ordinary day and hold on to the sure hope of spring.

Psalm for the January Thaw

Blessed be God for thaw, for the clear drops
that fall, one by one, like clocks ticking, from
the icicles along the eaves. For shift and shrinkage,
including the soggy gray mess on the deck
like an abandoned mattress that has
lost its inner spring. For the gurgle
of gutters, for snow melting underfoot when I
step off the porch. For slush. For the glisten
on the sidewalk that only wets the foot sole
and doesn't send me slithering. Everything
is alert to this melting, the slow flow of it,
the declaration of intent, the liquidation.

Glory be to God for changes. For bulbs
breaking the darkness with their green beaks.
For moles and moths and velvet green moss
waiting to fill the driveway cracks. For the way
the sun pierces the window minutes earlier each day.
For earthquakes and tectonic plates-earth's bump
and grind-and new mountains pushing up
like teeth in a one-year-old. For melodrama—
lightning on the sky stage, and the burst of applause
that follows. Praise him for day and night, and light
switches by the door. For seasons, for cycles
and bicycles, for whales and waterspouts,
for watersheds and waterfalls and waking
and the letter W, for the waxing and waning
of weather so that we never get complacent. For all
the world, and for the way it twirls on its axis
like an exotic dancer. For the north pole and the
south pole and the equator and everything between.

Interview with Keri Wyatt Kent on REST: Living in Sabbath Simplicity

2009-01-04T21:23:00.007-05:00

Today I would like to welcome Keri Wyatt Kent as she stops by on her blog tour for her newest book, REST. Keri was kind enough to answer a few questions about the Sabbath that will give you a taste of the wisdom found in the book.

1. What is Sabbath, and what is its purpose? What do you mean by Sabbath Simplicity?

Sabbath, first and foremost, is a gift from our loving God. He invites us to take a day to rest from our labor, so that we might engage in relationship with Him and with others. Its purpose is to refresh us physically and spiritually, to celebrate our freedom, to draw us close to God, and yet to remind us that we are not God. God commanded us to Sabbath, to stop. But Sabbath-keeping is also a spiritual practice or discipline. All disciplines, (like prayer, solitude, etc.) create some space for God in our lives. Just as we have a lot of latitude in other practices (we can pray any number of ways, for example), we have freedom in how we practice Sabbath. My book offers a lot of ideas, and real-life examples, of how to approach this life-giving practice. Sabbath Simplicity is a sanely-paced, God-focused life. It’s a lifestyle that includes the practice of Sabbath-keeping, but goes beyond just taking a day off. In a way, it’s living out what Jesus told us to do in Matthew 6:33: Seek first His kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Sabbath Simplicity seeks God first.

2. How does practicing the Sabbath in today’s busy society differ from the ancient concept of the Sabbath? Why is it so different? Why is it still important?

The ancient Jewish Sabbath had very strict boundaries, but within those boundaries, there was freedom and relationship. The Torah and traditions prohibited what was known as melachah, work that is creative or exercises dominion over your environment. There were 39 specific tasks, such as reaping, lighting a fire, etc., that correlated to the 39 tasks needed to build the temple. Jesus, Lord of the Sabbath, gave us a new way of following the ancient law. Jesus reminded us that the law was originally meant to invite us into relationship with God. While the Bible makes it clear that we are saved by grace, and not by the law, God’s law still remains a great way to live—as long as we don’t get legalistic or think keeping certain rules will save us. It’s important for many reasons, which I cover in the book. But here’s just one key reason: it allows us to experience the unconditional love of God in a physical, tangible way. It’s one thing to say he loves us even when we are not accomplishing or performing. But if we never actually stop performing, how can we experience that unconditional love? It allows us to say yes, with our bodies and our schedules, to Jesus invitation in Matthew 11:28: “Come to me, you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” Sabbath is not so much something you “do” as a gift you receive.

3. You have a chapter in the book about how Sabbath connects Christians to the Jewish roots of their faith. Why is that important?

We live in a culture that forgets history so easily. Our faith roots are in Judaism. Christianity is “a branch grafted in” to the tree of the Jewish faith. We cannot understand the New Testament fully without the context of the Old Testament—also known as the Torah. The Sabbath is a picture of God’s grace—we don’t work, yet God provides. Jesus is our peace, our Shabbat Shalom. Plus, we are followers and disciples of Jesus. As should, we should live as he lived, practice what he practiced: prayer, solitude, Sabbath. In the book, I note: “The cure for our isolation and disconnection is not simply more relationships but deeper ones, and a deeper connection to our shared past.” Also, a pivotal ritual in our faith—communion, is based on a Jewish Sabbath meal, the Passover. Sabbath meal always includes wine and bread—again, the communion elements. Even though they have different meanings, the Sabbath meal was a foreshadowing of Christ’s sacrifice for us.

4. Didn’t Jesus set us free from the law? If so, do we even have to practice Sabbath at all? What did Jesus say about the Sabbath?

By that argument, it would be okay to kill or commit adultery, because we are free from the law. What Jesus set us free from is being saved or in right relationship with God through the law. We’re saved by grace, not by law keeping. So we won’t be saved by Sabbath-keeping, but it is still how God invites us to live. Jesus said that the Sabbath was made for people. If God makes something for you, it’s a gift. He said it was not about the rules, but relationship. It’s a spiritual practice that brings us close to God. I have a whole chapter in the book that talks about what Jesus said about Sabbath. Researching that chapter was very interesting. I noticed that Jesus often taught by saying “You’ve heard it said…but I say.” For example, He’d say, “You’ve heard it said, don’t commit adultery, but I say, if you look at a woman with lust, you’ve already committed adultery.” But He didn’t use that particular style of teaching on Sabbath. But the thing he seemed to get in trouble with the Pharisees and teachers of the law for most was breaking their Sabbath rules. I think that in the breaking of the rules, He was saying to them, “You’ve heard it said…but I say” with his actions.
He healed on Sabbath, restored relationships, taught and confronted, and defended those choices vigorously. He called us to a new understanding of Sabbath—and clearly stated that legalism is not His way.

I would love to hear your thoughts on Sabbath keeping and what you've read so far on my blog of Keri's book in prior posts, A star to discover and REST. Keri is giving away a free copy of REST to one reader who comments today. Even if you don't win I highly recommend getting a copy and beginning your new year with a heart to obey God by seeking Sabbath simplicity in your own life. I am praying rest for you all in 2009.

Rest: Living in Sabbath Simplicity is available at bookstores everywhere, and on-line. Click here to purchase it from amazon.com or christianbook.com.

Rest

2009-01-02T20:00:00.011-05:00

You arouse man to take joy in praising You, for You have made us for Yourself, and our heart is restless until it rests in You.
-St. Augustine

I began a journey with Keri Wyatt Kent in her book Breathe over a year ago. I love the way she tells stories I can relate to about women trying to find time and space for God in their busy lives. My copy is dog eared. I kept it in the console of my car and would read chapters waiting for the bus with my daughter coming home from school each day. I would inhale and exhale the call to quiet my heart and life. Here's the thing though, I felt like the book needed a sequel. I was breathing, but I still felt tired and anxious even when being still. Slowing my life down wasn't enough. I needed to REST. As a sufferer of sometimes very severe fibromyalgia flares the issue of rest is near and dear to my heart. I struggle to even fall asleep most nights and my physical body is perpetually tense and in pain. Although there are very real physiological reasons for my symptoms I know they also stem from an inability on my part to shut my brain down and give all my burdens over to my God. Where does this constant need to strive come from and what is the answer?

"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls." (Matthew 11:28-29) This verse introduces Keri's newest book, REST. She begins her book where we should always start when trying to learn and grow in an area of our life--with what God has to say in His word. She then beautifully unwraps the Sabbath, a gracious gift packaged in a command, no longer tied with the ribbon of the old law but with the freedom offered us in Christ.

There is a clear path in the book showing the purpose and progression of learning to live in Sabbath simplicty; rest, reconnect, revise, pause, play and pray. Each chapter spoke to an area of my life, but I was particularly challenged by the chapter on playing. I realize how strange this may sound, that God would convict me about finding time for play, but He did. Keri points out in her book how children when occupied in play are simply in the moment enjoying it. I admit I am so rarely able to find myself in a childlike place when it comes to enjoying the good gifts from my God. As a mom of a six year old and a one year old who also works from home 30 hours a week and holds myself to a very high standard of keeping up my home, I really don't remember how to play. There are things I truly love to do, that make me feel like I am really using my gifts or gathering inspiration, but I don't make time for them. When I do rarely take time to go to an art gallery, a greenhouse or scrapbook and collage, for instance, I feel a joy and a peace that settles my mind and spirit and recharges me. God is calling me to find Him in play and regularly make this part of my Sabbath routine. He is asking me to look on what He has created for me to enjoy and without regret over the past or worry for the future rest in His amazing gifts now.

If you are weary and burdened I highly recommend you read REST and join me in celebrating God's all wise gift of Sabbath. Keri will be dropping by on Monday to answer some questions about her new book and my readers will have a chance to win a copy from Zondervan! Hope to see you then.

Great Love

2009-01-02T17:00:00.003-05:00

Make an on-line slide show at www.OneTrueMedia.com

Ebenezer

2008-12-28T20:45:00.008-05:00

"Then Samuel took a stone and set it up between Mizpah and Shen, and called its name Ebenezer, saying, "Thus far the Lord has helped us." I Samuel 7:12

I am sitting here in my usual spot in my peaceful home with my husband and girls sleeping. As tired as I am, I have been craving this time and space to be alone after days of Christmas activity. I have always loved the week between Christmas and New Years. I love the idea of "tabula rosa", a blank slate. I love to get organized and make lists of things to accomplish in the coming months. I don't really make resolutions, but I do set goals and realistic steps to meeting them. Even more than looking forward I am challenged to reflect on the past year and all God has done in my heart and life.

In Keri Wyatt Kent's new book REST she tells about a ritual her mentor, Sibyl, practices with her family. "So sometimes on Sundays, when Sibyl and her husband, Dick, gathered their children (and often guests who were living in their home temporarily) around the table for dinner, they'd pull out a bowl with smooth stones in it. They'd read the story from I Samuel and then give each person a stone, noting that they were Ebenezer stones, meaning, "God has helped us thus far." Then they'd ask each person to answer the question, "Where has God helped us this week?" As each child and adult told their story, they would place their stone in the bowl, thereby building a little altar of remembrance to remind each other that God does help and always will help.

We are hardwired to love stories. And this simple exercise is a way to let people tell their stories. It's a way of praying without droning on, without eyes closed. It invites participation, rather than demanding stillness from restless children. It asks us to engage rather than just be quiet.

When we answer the questions, Where has God helped us? Where have you noticed Him? we are reminded of His work in our lives and how we joined in that work. We are gathering evidence, solid as stones, to confirm what we long to know: He is helping us; He is worthy of our praise."

I am a lover of ritual. I was taught as a child that much religious ritual breeds Christians just "going through the motions." I am sure that may be true in some cases, but I need the structure of going again and again to a place and repeating truths and practices that over time become more than words and actions but life blood. Just like the ritual Delaney and I have had as long as I can remember of verbalizing what we are thankful for every single night before we pray, I love this idea of dialoguing in an even more specific way how faithful our God is. I love the symbolism of the stones. I want an Ebenezer in my home.

Thank You for Your constant faithfulness. Help my life to be an altar of praise and thanksgiving to Your loving kindness as I look forward to a new year. Help me to teach my children to be able to articulate Your goodness and grace and give You glory in all things.

O Simplicitas

2008-12-22T11:01:00.003-05:00

"For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though He was rich, yet for your sakes He became poor, that you through His poverty might become rich." II Cor 8:9

The Christmas message at church yesterday was on this verse. In my stress of so much work this morning, I open my Bible to read these words again and meditate for a moment on their truths. I am hungry for time to just be still with wonder at the incarnation of my God. Still reading Madeleine's writings and poetry I find this:

An angel came to me
and I was unprepared
to be what God was using.
Mother I was to be.
A moment I despaired,
thought briefly of refusing.
The angel knew I heard.
According to God’s Word
I bowed to this strange choosing.

A palace should have been
the birthplace of a king
(I had no way of knowing).
We went to Bethlehem;
it was so strange a thing.
The wind was cold, and blowing,
my cloak was old, and thin.
They turned us from the inn;
the town was overflowing.

God’s Word, a child so small
who still must learn to speak
lay in humiliation.
Joseph stood, strong and tall.
The beasts were warm and meek
and moved with hesitation.
The Child born in a stall?
I understood it: all.
Kings came in adoration.

Perhaps it was absurd;
a stable set apart,
the sleepy cattle lowing;
and the incarnate Word
resting against my heart.
My joy was overflowing.
The shepherds came, adored
the folly of the Lord,
wiser than all men’s knowing. -Madeleine L’Engle

Thank you for Your wise plan, my King becoming a child in a manger so I could be rich beyond measure. Help me live every moment of my life as a sacrifice of thanksgiving for the wealth I have in You.

Adoration

2008-12-15T09:18:00.002-05:00

This time of the year
the new-born child
is everywhere
planted in madonnas’ arms
hay mows, stables,
in palaces or farms,
or quaintly, under snowed gables,
gothic angular or baroque plump,
naked or elaborately swathed,
encircled by Della Robbia wreaths,
garnished with whimsical
partridges and pears,
drummers and drums,
lit by oversize stars,
partnered with lambs,
peace doves, sugar plums,
bells, plastic camels in sets of three
as if these were what we needed
for eternity.

But Jesus the Man is not to be seen.
There are some who are wary, these days,
of beards and sandalled feet.

Yet if we celebrate, let it be
that He
has invaded our lives with purpose,
striding over our picturesque traditions,
our shallow sentiment,
overturning our cash registers,
wielding His peace like a sword,
rescuing us into reality,
demanding much more
than the milk and the softness
and the mother warmth
of the baby in the storefront creche,
(only the Man would ask
all, of each of us)
reaching out
always, urgently, with strong
effective love
(only the man would give
His life and live
again for love of us).

Oh come, let us adore Him–
Christ–the Lord. -Luci Shaw

Glorious Impossibles

2008-12-12T10:18:00.004-05:00

And the angel told her, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High shall overshadow you. And the Holy Thing which shall be born of you shall be called the Son of God.” What an amazing, what an impossible message the angel brought to a young girl! But Mary looked at the angel and said, “Be it unto me according to your word.” And so the life of Jesus began as it would end, with the impossible. When he was a grown man he would say to his disciples, “For human beings it is impossible. For God nothing is impossible.” Possible things are easy to believe. The Glorious Impossibles are what bring joy to our hearts, hope to our lives, songs to our lips. -Madeleine L’Engle

I wonder how different my life would be if at every word of the Lord I answered as Mary did, "Be it unto me according to your word." When I look back over the last year and how many "impossible" things God has accomplished in my world I have only praise for my Father who works His perfect will in the everyday miracles of His saving love and sustaining grace. Our move to Ohio, God's provision of jobs for Dan and I, our home, our health, and daily manna--these all seemed impossible just a year ago. Yet, just as in the birth of our Savior, God's plan was already made and His promises were sure.

Thank You for choosing to work Your will through glorious impossibles. Please help me to take You at Your word and dwell in peace that passes understanding and joy unmeasured.

The Gift of Gifts

2008-12-12T09:23:00.002-05:00

O Source of all Good,
What shall I render to Thee for the gift of gifts,
Thine own dear Son, begotten, not created,
my Redeemer, Proxy, Surety, Substitute,
His self-emptying incomprehensible,
His infinity of love beyond the heart's grasp.

Herein is wonder of wonders:
He came below to raise me above,
He was born like me that I might become like Him.

Herein is love;
when I cannot rise to Him He draws near on wings of grace,
to raise me to Himself.

Herein is power;
when Deity and humanity were infinitely apart
He united them in indissoluble unity, the uncreated and the created.

Herein is wisdom;
when I was undone, with no will to return to Him,
and no intellect to devise recovery,
He came, God-incarnate, to save me to the uttermost,
as man to die my death,
to shed satisfying blood on my behalf,
to work out a perfect righteousness for me.

O God, take me in spirit to the watchful shepherds,
and enlarge my mind;
let me hear good tidings of great joy,
and hearing, believe, rejoice, praise, adore,
my conscience bathed in an ocean of repose,
my eyes uplifted to a reconciled Father,
place me with ox, ass, camel, goat,
to look with them upon my Redeemer's face,
and in Him account myself delivered from sin;
let me with Simeon clasp the new-born Child to my heart,
embrace Him with undying faith,
exulting that He is mine and I am His.

In Him Thou hast given me so much that heaven can give no more.

Arthur Bennett, ed. Valley of Vision (Carlisle, PA: Banner of Truth Trust, 1975), 16.

Mary's Song

2008-12-03T13:42:00.004-05:00

If you have never read Luci Shaw's poetry you must find her book Accompanied by Angels: Poems of the Incarnation. This, one of my favorite of her poems, reminds me of why "He who knew no sin became sin for us, that we might become the righteousness of God in Him." II Cor 5:21

Blue homespun and the bend of my breast

keep warm this small hot naked star

fallen to my arms. (Rest...

you who have had so far to come.)

Now nearness satisfies

the body of God sweetly. Quiet he lies

whose vigor hurled a universe. He sleeps

whose eyelids have not closed before.

His breath (so light it seems

no breath at all) once ruffled the dark deeps

to sprout a world. Charmed by doves' voices,

the whisper of straw, he dreams,

hearing no music from his other spheres.

Breath, mouth, ears, eyes

he is curtailed who overflowed all skies,

all years. Older than eternity, now he

is new. Now native to earth as I am, nailed

to my poor planet, caught

that I might be free, blind in my womb

to know my darkness ended,

brought to this birth for me to be new-born,

and for him to see me mended

I must see him torn.

A star to discover

2008-11-28T13:04:00.008-05:00

"If, as Herod, we fill our lives with things, and again with things; if we consider ourselves so unimportant that we must fill every moment of our lives with action, when will we have the time to make the long, slow journey across the desert as did the Magi? Or sit and watch the stars as did the shepherds? Or brood over the coming of the child as did Mary? For each of us, there is a desert to travel. A star to discover. And a being within ourselves to bring to life." Author Unknown

On this day after Thanksgiving I am so grateful to be sitting here in my usual spot with no hurried shopping planned or any place we need to go. The house is quiet with Danica napping and Delaney at the table drawing pictures of her favorite ornaments from the tree we decorated as a family yesterday. Later we will bake gingerbread cookies while we play Christmas music. Tonight we will begin our month long celebration of the Advent of our Savior, the life which brought eternal life.

Although we celebrated Christmas growing up we did not observe Advent in any way. As a lover of ritual when it brings me closer to truth I am searching out new ways for my own family to make the Christmas season more about Christ. (This has been a wonderful resource in my preparation for celebrating Advent in our home.) The anticipation, preparation and longing of Christ's Advent depicted through rich symbolism and imagery is a beautiful way to keep our hearts and minds focused on the coming of our King. It calls us to be still and reflect--to REST in the gift of gifts.

I received in the mail today an advanced copy of Keri Wyatt Kent's new book, Rest, Living in Sabbath Simplicity, to be released a week from today by Zondervan. (Stay tuned for Keri to stop by on her blog tour sometime in January.) I am only about half way through this convicting and encouraging book all about the real purpose of this present wrapped in a command called the Sabbath. As she describes the purpose of the Sabbath and the heart of God behind it she returns over and over again to the concepts of observing and remembering, the same truths that draw me to make celebrating Advent a new focus in our home. She writes, "In the Hebrew tradition, Sabbath is not simply a day but a mindset, a living and lived-in symbol. The day is the centerpiece of the week; anticipated for three days, practiced for one, and remembered for three days after." Our Christmas should reflect this same mindset of anticipating with prayer and longing, joyful celebration and then remembering. Oh how I long to live in the symbol of this season all year long.

I love this prayer by Henri J. M. Nouwen, "Lord Jesus, master of both the light and the darkness, send your Holy Spirit upon our preparations for Christmas. We who have so much to do seek quiet spaces to hear your voice each day. We who are anxious over many things look forward to your coming among us. We who are blessed in so many ways long for the complete joy of your kingdom. We whose hearts are heavy seek the joy of your presence. We are your people, walking in darkness, yet seeking the light. To you we say, "Come Lord Jesus!"

Thank You for showing me new truths about how to celebrate You. Please give our family the grace to be still and discover the Bright and Morning Star during this season and always.

Not just covered but cleansed

2008-11-25T09:19:00.003-05:00

I am looking out my front window at the wrecked car still sitting in front of our home. The snow has been falling for several hours and what was a mangled mess is now covered in a beautiful white blanket so you can barely tell from my angle the car was in an accident at all. This makes me think of Isaiah 1:18, "'Come now, and let us reason together,' Says the Lord, 'Though Your sins are like scarlet, They shall be white as snow; Though they are red like crimson, They shall be as wool.'"

The snow on the car will melt and the ugliness of the wreck will be revealed again, but in Christ's blood my sins are not just covered for a day or two they are completely wiped away. No past sin will be dredged up and no future sin will melt away the forgiveness offered by His sacrifice for me. It is finished. His work is done and my salvation is secure.

Thank You for assurance found in the cleansing power of Christ's blood that washes me whiter than snow.

"Wash me, and I will be whiter than snow!" Psalm 51:7

My hands are holding you

2008-11-23T10:01:00.005-05:00

After college I was working in Harrisonburg, VA as a property manager for off campus student housing. The office I worked in was literally less than one minute from my townhouse, and I would go home everyday for lunch. As I sat on Port Republic Road with my left blinker on waiting to turn back into work a 16 year old playing hooky from school plowed into the back of me and threw me across oncoming traffic and up a utility pole.

I imagine finding out you have cancer is something like that day. You are living life, planning what's for dinner that night, what you'll do next week or next year, and then without warning it hits you from behind and mangles your life. When the dust settles from the surgery and the treatment and the months of life you have lost you take inventory. Am I totaled? What's the blue book value of this crazy life, and do I have any equity left once the loan is paid? Can I get a new life? And you wonder why this happened. Deep down inside you feel this might be a result of a lopsided checks and balances sheet where God and sin are concerned regardless of what you know in your head about Christ's saving love.

Last night our car, parked on the street in front of our home, was demolished by a drunk driver. It made me think of the accident 10 years ago. In my crazy head, especially after all we have been through in the past year and a half, I think immediately God is "punishing" me for the spiritual hissy fit I pitched the day before when I found out my dear friend Angie has more cancer. I have lived my life this way. Always thinking my circumstances are about cause and effect, behavior and consequences, and I never measure up.

Angie has been battling breast cancer for more than a year and had a biopsy on her neck Monday for a new growth. Last week I prayed so hard and believed so much that she would call me on Friday morning and the news would be good, and we would praise God. Did I really think if my faith and prayers were strong enough I could somehow influence God's plan for her life? So, when her news came, I became full of doubt and questions and fear. It was sin. I was angry and Satan began attacking me from all sides telling me this Christian life is just too hard and to give up.

Last night I sat and wept. My girls are both very sick again, and I haven't slept. The car situation ripples to cause all kinds of waves for us financially. My friend must endure more than I can imagine. "God, where are You? What are you doing?" He answered to me deep into the night, "My hands are holding You." After hours of crying Danica finally fell asleep around 4:30am, and I rested in His loving arms. "Stop striving, Monica. Stop trying to earn grace. Don't turn away!!!"

Tenth Avenue North - By Your Side

Why are you striving these days
Why are you trying to earn grace
Why are you crying
Let me lift up your face
Just don't turn away

Why are you looking for love
Why are you still searching as if I'm not enough
To where will you go child
Tell me where will you run
To where will you run

And I'll be by your side
Wherever you fall
In the dead of night
Whenever you call
And please don't fight
These hands that are holding you
My hands are holding you

Look at these hands and my side
They swallowed the grave on that night
When I drank the world's sin
So I could carry you in
And give you life
I want to give you life

And I'll be by your side
Wherever you fall
In the dead of night
Whenever you call
And please don't fight
These hands that are holding you
My hands are holding you

Cause I, I love you
I want you to know
That I, I love you
I'll never let you go

And I'll be by your side
Wherever you fall
In the dead of night
Whenever you call
And please don't fight
These hands that are holding you
My hands are holding you

Snow

2008-11-18T19:26:00.004-05:00

"The snow reminded me of the beauty and mystery of creation, of the essential joy that is life." From Snow, a novel by Orphan Pamuk

It's been snowing on and off since last night. It's beautiful. I love watching Delaney, this dear daughter of mine, who also embodies "the essential joy that is life" experience something as simple as daily weather. As we snuggled in her bed tonight with the peaceful piano compositions of my friend, John Thomas, playing softly in the background we looked out her window into the night sky and watched the snow softly falling. We began talking about why it snows, and she asked all kinds of questions I should be able to answer but couldn't. I suggested she ask the librarian tomorrow at school for some books so we could study together. (I resist the urge to run to the internet for information because oh how I treasure the search in a real book found on real shelves guided by a librarian who loves the hunt as much as I, and I want Delaney to treasure this too!) She says to me, "If God were here in my room I would just ask Him how he makes all this snow. I think He is just up there sprinkling it with His hands." Perhaps it's better left as a bit of a mystery, this blanket of white that covers us tonight making us be still and quiet and remember our Creator.

Thank You for snow. I know I have grumbled before because of the cold and wet and inconvenience but tonight my daughter reminded me it is from Your hand, another gift reminding me to be still and know You are God.

Calvary stills all our questions

2008-11-07T12:37:00.004-05:00

I have been reading Amy Carmichael's Rose from Brier this week and the above title of one of the chapters has stuck in my head and my heart. So many questions pressing in on me and every single one can be answered by Calvary.

One of the most difficult recurring questions I face each day is in regards to what Amy's book is specifically written about, continued physical suffering. I ask God why He has given me chronic physical pain in the form of severe fybromyalgia. I am presently in a horrible flare and my body has deteriorated in the past days so that I have constant shooting burning pain in my legs and hips and knees and even my toes. I can barely lift Danica and when I do it hurts so bad I want to cry. My face and my back is twitching. I cannot sleep. I have made my peace with this thorn in the flesh many times before but somehow I always end up back here asking "Why?"

Amy writes, "What, then, is the answer? I do not know. I believe that it is one of the secret things of the Lord, which will not be opened to us till we see Him who endured the Cross, see the scars in His hands and feet and side, see Him, our Beloved, face to face. I believe that in the revelation of love, which is far past our understanding now, we shall "understand even as all along we have been understood." And till then? . . . There is only one way of peace. It is the child's way. The loving child trusts. I believe that we who know our God, and have proved Him good past telling, will find rest there. The faith of the child rests on the character it knows. So may ours; so shall ours. Our Father does not explain, nor does He assure us as we long to be assured. . . But we know our Father. We know His character. Somehow, somewhere, the wrong must be put right; how we do not know, only we know that, because He is what He is, anything else is inconceivable. . . There is only one place where we can receive, not an answer to our question, but peace--that place is Calvary. An hour at the foot of the Cross steadies the soul as nothing else can. "Oh Christ Beloved, Thy Calvary stills all our questions." Love that loves like that can be trusted about this."

A Father who loves me enough to give His only Son to die for me can be trusted. And so once again I lay it all down here at Calvary. I surrender my body to Him, a living sacrifice, and offer thanksgiving for this pain which helps me see more clearly the price that was paid for my sin. I breathe gratitude for an affliction that keeps my eyes fixed on things above and not on this earth.

Interviewing

2008-11-02T19:05:00.004-05:00

I just pulled one of my "power suits" out of the closet freshened up with a new scarf I bought on Friday. I picked out my shoes, my trench and a matching hand bag. This is the first time in over a year I have even thought about what I was going to wear the next day the night before. Tomorrow morning I have an interview. It's strange for me to feel nervous about meeting with someone for any reason. I love people. I love to hear about their business and share my experience. I am not afraid of what is not meant to be so I rarely feel bad if after the interview I am told I am not qualified enough, overqualified or not a good fit for whatever reason. So, I am not sure why I feel so uneasy about stepping out into the work world again.

EXCEPT. . . when I think about leaving my Danica all day with someone else I begin to cry and feel sick and frantic. I am terrified to hand this precious child to a stranger. I have to admit there are days I long for meaningful work and an office full of adult conversation. I miss wearing nice clothes, having a quiet commute alone with my thoughts and being recognized for good ideas and hard work. None of those things could ever compare to the gift of caring for my Dani Jean. Yes, there are moments of drudgery but every time she smiles I feel rich and know my work is blessed.

There is a certain amount of money we must have to meet our basic needs. We have cut back as much as possible and to keep Delaney in her school I have to work. My database telecommuting job has been such an answer to prayer, but as things have slowed and the checks are shrinking barely making it will quickly turn into not making it. I am a realist.

God knows my heart. He knows my desire to be here answering my most important call as a wife and a mother. He knows the balance in my checking account. He knows my willingness to work as hard as I need to to help provide for those I love. He knows my physical limitations. He loves me and He will lead me and give me grace whatever His will.

Thank You for granting peace in my core even when surrounded by fear and doubt. Thank You for faith to believe even when I don't feel.

How do people get rich?

2008-10-26T10:10:00.004-04:00

I have been sleeping in Delaney's room the last two nights since she has been so sick. Last night as we were laying in the dark Delaney began a funny conversation that went like this.

"Mom, Does dad have to work again tomorrow?"
I answer her, "Yes, honey, daddy is working extra hours to help pay for our bills so we have a house to live in and food to eat."
There were a few moments of silence.
"I wish we were rich so you and dad never had to work and we could be a family all the time."
More silence
"How do people get rich anyway?"
I think for a moment. "Well, people have all different kinds of jobs that make different amounts of money. Mommy used to make a lot more money when I worked in real estate, but now I stay home to be with Danica and only work part time. Doctors and Attorneys make a lot of money but they have to go to school longer too. How much money you make is not as important as really liking your job."
Delaney says, "Well, how much does a dolphin doctor make?" (This is the profession she talks about the most.)
I answer, "I think marine biologists make pretty good money."
She quips back, "How long do they have to go to school?"
"Well, I will have to look that up, maybe only four years of college."
She says with all seriousness, "Ok, so that's January, February, March, April, and I would be done, right?"
I am laughing, "No honey, four YEARS, not MONTHS. We will have to pray about what God wants you to be when you grow up. Now get some sleep."

God Songs

2008-10-23T20:44:00.003-04:00

I was tucking my sweet Laney in tonight and for all her independence and very grown up ways she turns into such a little girl at bedtime. I crawled in next to her to snuggle and she said, "Sing me a God song, mom." With the ocean sounds playing from her sound machine in the background I sang through the songs I have sung to her since she was a baby--Jesus Loves Me, Jesus Loves the Little Children, Oh Be Careful Little Eyes, The BIBLE, Seek Ye First and Sleep Sound in Jesus.

Thank You for my dear daughter and the desire of her tender heart to drift off to sleep to God songs.

Knowing the heart of God

2008-10-22T08:53:00.007-04:00

“God is too wise to be mistaken, and too good to be unkind. When we cannot trace His hand, we can always trust His heart.” Charles Spurgeon

I read this quote in a comment posted on my dear friend's blog in response to her battle with breast cancer. I have chewed on it for days now asking myself, "Do I know the heart of God?" Knowing God is the root system of my salvation and any growth I will experience in my Christian life depends on it. I am realizing how shallow and hungry and thirsty my roots are.

Growing up I was saturated with teachings about who God is as I sat in church twice on Sunday and every Wednesday night. I remember the primary message was constantly directed to sinners in the hands of an angry God. Years of this picture of God as a judge who would never be satisfied instead of a forgiving Heavenly Father became a stumbling block in my faith. I now realize to truly be saved by grace through faith alone you HAVE to know who God really is. Yes, His anger with our sin and our deserved judgment is a critical part of His nature but never when painted without the focus being on the redeeming love offered in the gift of His Son, Christ Jesus.

In J.I. Packer's book Knowing God he writes, "A study of the nature and character of God is the most practical project anyone can engage in. Knowing about God is crucially important for the living of our lives...We are cruel to ourselves if we try to live in the world without knowing about the God whose world it is and who runs it. The world becomes a strange, mad, painful place, and life disappointing and unpleasant business for those who do not know about God. Disregard the study of God and you sentence yourself to stumble and blunder through life blindfolded, as it were, with no sense of direction and no understanding of what surrounds you. This way you can waste your life and lose your soul."

I can look back in my life, even recently, and see how my distorted view of God made everything unclear. As I am in the Word and my eyes are opened to the person and work of Christ, the Holy Spirit, and God, my loving Father, I am amazed at how different my perspective is becoming.

Thank You for showing me more of Your heart as I seek You in Your Word. Help my knowledge of You to grow deeper and stronger each day until I see You face to face.

This Is Our God - Chris Tomlin featuring David Crowder

Faithful in the small things

2008-10-20T21:28:00.003-04:00

"We shall not waste our time in looking for extraordinary experiences in our life, but live by pure faith, ever watchful and ready for His coming by doing our day-to-day duties with extraordinary love and devotion." ~Mother Teresa

Thank You for glimpses of what being a faithful servant is all about. Forgive me when I long for something more important and more glamorous when Your will for me is clearly the here and now, serving You in laundry and lists and simple suppers. Help me show Your great love in every detail of my daily work.

Empty Spaces

2008-10-16T12:22:00.005-04:00

"Grace fills empty spaces, but it can only enter where there is a void to receive it, and it is grace itself which makes the void." Simon Weil

I have felt hollow the past few days. I have felt myself on the verge of a depression I cannot completely explain. I know myself well enough to allow for the sadness and not try to fake my way into some kind of contrived joy. I know my God will meet me here in these empty spaces of my heart and life if I am still and seek to know Him. Today as I tried to pray and no words would come I began to cry. "God, You are Enough." I said it over and over.

The decision for Dan to have a vasectomy was well thought out. We were told it would be very foolish to ever try to have children again. It was a true miracle I did not lose my kidney or die from complications with my last pregnancy. We are blessed with two beautiful girls. We needed to wisely protect my health so I will be here to mother them. Why does Satan try to trick me into thinking I need more? It's like I'm Eve back in the Garden of Eden, and I want the one thing God has clearly closed the door on. God is God, and I am not. He is Enough.

This word "Enough" that I have bound on my heart this past year appeared in a post this week from my dear blogger friend, Ann from Holy Experience, Dawning in the Dark. He is Dayenu. "MORE THAN ENOUGH." Not just enough but exceedingly abundantly more than I could ever need or want is given in my Savior to me. Given to me, a woman who would surely eat of the tree if given the chance. A woman who would turn her back time and time again on all the gifts freely given to try to taste the one God has forbidden. Yet, in amazing love He meets me here in my nakedness and shame and gives me grace for my empty spaces, and He fills me up drop by drop.

Thank You for lessons learned through emptiness and grief. Thank You for grace overflowing for those who thirst. Thank You for thirst, the gift that proves You are alive and at work in my heart and life. Thank You that all of You is MORE THAN ENOUGH for all of me.

Do Over

2008-10-13T18:58:00.003-04:00

I used to have the following quote by Ralph Waldo Emerson on my bulletin board at work, "Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could. Some blunders and absurdities no doubt crept in; forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is a new day; begin it well and serenely and with too high a spirit to be encumbered with your old nonsense." Basically, he was saying to try to treat each day as if it was a do over. Of course this is a great attitude to have but not completely realistic in the world of business and certainly not always achievable in personal relationships.

Today was one of those days I wish I could just erase and live again. It began calmly enough at 6am rolling out of bed to get Delaney ready for school and going through our morning routine, but I quickly realized my cold is really not improved and my cramps and headache from the night before brought their monthly "gift" with a vengeance. My sweet husband who is usually so helpful, especially when I am debilitated by the "gift", had his own cross to bear with a long planned trip to the urologist to end his ability to procreate. So, with a bag of frozen peas waiting in the freezer and plenty of anxiety, he was in his own funk, and we were quite a pair. Danica is teething and was running a fever and so she too was grumping in her own sweet way. When Delaney came home from school I was so cross and rushing around trying to just get through the evening until I could curl up and rest. I was unkind in my harsh words and nit picking about little things and the entire time I began to feel worse and worse about how I was behaving.

Once I got the baby to bed I snuggled up with Delaney on the couch to read, and I told her I was sorry for how the evening had gone. I reminded her that mommies and daddies need forgiveness too when we disobey our Heavenly Father and our love is not patient or kind. As I tucked her in bed we went through our nightly ritual before saying prayers of telling one another what we are thankful for. Tonight Delaney was thankful for dolphins and the beautiful sunny day. I told her oh how thankful I am that in the blood of our Savior each new day is a chance for a do over!

"I, even I, am He who blots out your transgressions, for my own sake, and remembers your sins no more." Isaiah 43:25

The Boys of Summer . . .and Indian Summer

2008-10-13T09:38:00.005-04:00

It breaks your heart. It is designed to break your heart. The game begins in spring, when everything else begins again, and it blossoms in the summer, filling the afternoons and evenings, and then as soon as the chill rains come, it stops and leaves you to face the fall alone. ~A. Bartlett Giamatti

I have always loved sports. One of the reasons my husband says he fell in love with me was when we first began dating I would snuggle and watch Sports Center with him and really enjoyed it (maybe even enjoyed the Sports Center more than the snuggling). I like college football and the NFL. I like college basketball, especially the ACC and March madness. I like hockey games in person or during the playoffs, but I LOVE any and all baseball.

I don't know how it started really. I remember as a child listening to Indians games when my dad or grandpa had them on the radio. I learned to love the sound of the game. When I was 15 I started going to see a local college league play called the Staunton Braves. College players from competitive schools around the US would come and play in a summer league and stay with families in the community. I fell in love with the field, the smells, the setting sun on summer nights, and I was hooked. I loved the pitching most of all and the exquisite detail of the game. I began following the Atlanta Braves who had arguably some of the best pitchers ever during the summer of 1993 and almost a decade following. I had a poster of Smoltz, Maddux and Glavine hanging in my room. My friend Becky and I would drive down to see the Richmond Braves, the AAA team under Atlanta, and we swooned over Chipper Jones and Javier Lopez. In college I began following the Indians closer since my parents had moved back to Ohio, and I made friends with Marty Dzurenko whose dad and brother worked for the Indians and could always get us into the games. Who can forget when Manny Ramirez was part of the Tribe and the excitement of those chilly October playoff games at the Jake?

I will argue with you about which field I have visited is the best and tell you about the fields I still dream of visiting. I will tell you why I hate free agency and why if I could go back in time to do just one thing I would would go to a Yankee game and watch Joe Dimaggio, my lucky number 5, play. I will talk about baseball books I have read and the Ken Burns baseball documentary. I will tell you about watching the movie Field of Dreams 100 times and quote my favorite lines. Most of all I will tell you about how I love October baseball. No matter how tired I am I will stay up to watch the playoff games, and they have become as much a part of the season's routine as a trip to the pumpkin patch and planting mums. And when the last game of the World Series is played I feel sad, like a friend has gone away.

Walt Whitman said, "I see great things in baseball. It's our game - the American game. It will take our people out-of-doors, fill them with oxygen, give them a larger physical stoicism. Tend to relieve us from being a nervous, dyspeptic set. Repair these losses, and be a blessing to us." Granted he wrote this in a time when baseball was played with a "purity" we will never see again, but the heart of the game remains the same today. As I watched the Dodgers, Phillies game last night I did for a time forget about the failing economy, my day to day worries and even my horrible sinus headache, and I found it was a blessing to me. Part of my Simple Abundance journey is recognizing the gifts wrapped in the ordinary. This is the first time I have ever been consciously thankful for the simple gift of a game and relaxation and joy it brings me. And so I add the boys of summer . . . and indian summer to my list of a thousand gifts.

More on Seeing

2008-10-07T13:23:00.004-04:00

And one of the scribes came and heard them arguing, and recognizing that He had answered them well, asked Him, "What commandment is the foremost of all?" Jesus answered, "The foremost is, 'Hear, O Israel! The Lord our God is one Lord; and you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength.' "The second is this, 'You shall love your neighbor as yourself.' There is no other commandment greater than these." (NAS, Mark 12:28-31)

I like to think I am not a very judgmental person, which of course is not true because I make judgments big and small all day long, but I try to temper my thoughts with constant remembrance of where God saved me from. I think we all have hot spots though, things about other people that drive us crazy. Often, without knowing someone's story at all, I know I make conclusions about why they are behaving a certain way, and it sticks under my skin and eats away at me.

Our neighbors to the right of us drive me nuts. I don't know the details of their familial relationship, but I know the older lady who lives there is the mother of the adult son who lives there with his two children, Ava and Buddy. There are other "girlfriends" who filter in and out, none of which I can determine is a mother to the two kids. Delaney and Ava are almost exactly the same age and every time we get home from somewhere or are outside the little girl asks if they can play. Well, those of you who know Dan and I know we are super careful about who watches our kids, who they play with, safety outdoors, and on and on. I had pretty much dodged the situation for the most part and then I hear through an open window Ava yelling at her little brother, "Get over here, @#%! head," and my mind was made up once and for all the girls were not going to be "friends".

The thing that most peeves me about the situation is the adult father who does not appear to work at all. The yard is a mess. The trash is left out BESIDE the cans so an animal rips them open making a mess. The kids always look disheveled, and he goes to get fast food seemingly every meal to bring back to them. The older lady is clearly not in good health and still works and hobbles in and out, trying her best to make a home for the kids. I have a HUGE problem with lazy and this is my judgment of the dad.

I have prayed about the situation and my heart, because it's a classic example of how I could be a missionary right where God has me, but I don't even know how to reach out of my Pottery Barn, Clorox wipe existence even far enough to touch a neighbor. So, last Sunday I see a bus pull up from a Nazerene church and the two little kids run out and jump on by themselves. Did the grandma send them? Was she a Christian and trying to influence her grandchildren for Christ? Why had I never invited them to our church? How do I even do that?

I thought back to my childhood. We lived in what seemed like a fine neighborhood, but I now know it was pretty close to "the tracks." There was some kids in our neighborhood who were very rough, especially two girls, Darby and Shelly, who lived in a little house down the street. I think their mom worked and their dad was an alcoholic. I know there was a guy, Tim, in the neighborhood who would go in their house when they were there alone, and I know he took advantage of them. My mom had a rule, the kids could play in our yard as long as they didn't take God's name in vain or use bad language. Somehow, poor as we were, she always found another peanut butter and jelly sandwich for any one who straggled over and looking back I see our house as the shining light to the kids who had never had a front porch swing where a mom just sat and talked with them and made homemade chocolate chip cookies and taught them cat's cradle.

I need new eyes. I need to see EVERYONE as a soul. I need to step outside my comfort zone and show God's love in practical ways to those He brings into my life day to day. I have been listening to Brandon Heath's song Give Me Your Eyes. This is my prayer today.

Looked down from a broken sky.
Traced out by the city of lights.
My world from a mile high.
Best seat in the house tonight.
Touch down on the cold black-top.
Hold on for the sudden stop.
Breathe in the familiar shock of confusion and chaos.
All those people goin somewhere, why have I never cared.

Give me your eyes for just one second,
Give me your eyes so I can see,
Everything that I keep missing,
Give your love for humanity.
Give me your arms for the broken-hearted
The ones that are far beyond my reach.
Give me Your heart for the ones forgotten.
Give me Your eyes so I can see.
Yeah.
Yeah.
Yeah.
Yeah.

Step out on the busy street.
See a girl and our eyes meet.
Does her best to smile at me.
To hide what's underneath.
There's a man just to her right
Black suit and a bright red tie.
Too ashamed to tell his wife he's out of work, he's buyin time.
All those people goin somewhere, why have I never cared.

Give me your eyes for just one second,
Give me your eyes so I can see,
Everything that I keep missing,
Give me your love for humanity.
Give me Your arms for the broken-hearted
The ones that are far beyond my reach.
Give me Your heart for the ones forgotten.
Give me Your eyes so I can see.
Yeah.
Yeah.
Yeah.
Yeah.

I've been there a million times.
A couple million lives.
Just movin past me by, I swear I never thought that I was wrong.
But I wanna second glance so give me a second chance to see the way you've seen the people all along.

Give me your eyes for just one second,
Give me your eyes so I can see,
Everything that I keep missing,
Give me your love for humanity.
Give me Your arms for the broken-hearted
The ones that are far beyond my reach.
Give me Your heart for the ones forgotten.
Give me Your eyes so I can see.

Give me your eyes for just one second,
Give me your eyes so I can see,
Everything that I keep missing,
Give me Your love for humanity
Give me Your arms for the broken-hearted
The ones that are far beyond my reach.
Give me Your heart for the ones forgotten.
Give me Your eyes so I can see.
Yeah.
Yeah.
Yeah.
Yeah.
Yeah.
Yeah.
Yeah.
Yeah

In My Daughter's Eyes

2008-10-04T13:30:00.003-04:00

A year ago today I saw my sweet baby girl, Danica Jean for the first time. She was born in the afternoon of October 3rd, but I did not get to see her until the afternoon of the next day. It seems strange to say the day your child was born was the worst day of your life, but it truly was. I think God knew I needed time before I could see this child as the gift she truly is. I needed a day to bridge the pain and confusion to why it was all worth it. I have loved the following song since Delaney was small, but the lyrics are perfect for Danica and I. Everything in my life and my heart was completely changed the day I found out she was growing inside me, and I know I will never be the same.

Thank You for this child and the amazing journey You took us on to make her life possible. Thank You for a year of health and happiness and love on top of love for our family. Thank You for the pure joy I feel every time I look into my Danica's eyes.

Photo and video editing at www.OneTrueMedia.com

Open the eyes of my heart, Lord

2008-09-30T13:03:00.007-04:00

"I have heard of you by hearing of the ear, But now my eye sees You." Job 42:5

When I was 7 years old I got my first pair of glasses. I remember the day we picked them up at Hunley Optical on North Augusta St. I kept putting them on and taking them off to compare the miraculous difference in everything that was once a blur and now was crystal clear. My eyes have progressively gotten worse and now I am about as near sighted as a person can be without being declared legally blind. Over the past year and a half or so I have not seen well at all. I ran out of my disposable contacts while in the hospital and could not afford to replace them so I went to wearing a four year old pair of glasses most of the time. Finally, yesterday, I went to the eye doctor and $350 later I have new sight again. It's just as miraculous as that first day. I could see blades of grass and read the signs as I drove, even the small print. Everything was crisp and focused again. Most of all I wasn't straining and my eyes felt comfortable. I had forgotten what a simple blessing it is to really see.

As I thanked God for sight I thought of the above verse from Job which has been my life verse through our recent trials. I know there were and still are many unrevealed "reasons" for what I was enduring, but I can already understand one of the primary goals of my suffering was what St. Augustine meant when he wrote, "The whole point of this life is the healing of the heart's eye through which God is seen." Everything in our lives, big or small, joy or pain, is all to help us see our God more clearly.

God is also teaching me I do not necessarily need a mountaintop experience or a retreat to see Him face to face. He has shown Himself clearly everywhere I look in this great world and my daily life, but most of all He meets me in His Word. As I have begun to study the book of Hebrews with a group from church I have been blown away at how I have heard the words over and over but never once really saw the clear picture of my Savior depicted there. Meeting my God is as simple as opening His gift of Scripture and praying for the Spirit to show me the light.

Thank You for soul glasses that help me know You better. Help me to seek You more and see You clearer each day!

When God Ran

2008-09-23T20:27:00.013-04:00

One of my favorite passages in all the Bible is the parable of the prodigal son in Luke. "There was a man who had two sons. The younger of them said to his father, 'Father give me the share of his property that will belong to me.' So he divided the property between them. A few days later the younger son gathered all he had and traveled to a distant country, and there he squandered his property in dissolute living. When he had spend everything, a severe famine took place throughout that country, and he began to be in need. So he went and hired himself out to one of the citizens of that country, who sent him to his fields to feed the pigs. He would gladly have filled himself with the pods that the pigs were eating; and no one gave him anything. But when he came to himself he said, 'How many of my father's hired hands have bread enough and to spare, but here I am dying of hunger! I will get up and go to my father, and I will say to him, "Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son, treat me like one of your hired hands."' So he set off and went to his father. But while he was still a far off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion; he ran and put his arms around him and kissed him. Then the son said to him, 'Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son.' But the father said to his slaves, 'Quickly, bring out a robe--the best one--and put it on him; put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. And get the fatted calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate; for this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.' And they began to celebrate.

"Now his elder son was in the field; and when he came and approached the house, he heard music and dancing. He called on of the slaves and asked what was going on. He replied, 'Your brother has come, and your father has killed the fatted calf because he has got him back safe and sound.' Then he became angry and refused to go in. His father came out and began to plead with him. But he answered his father, 'Listen! For all these years I have been working like a slave for you, and I have never disobeyed you command; yet you have never given me even a young goat so that I might celebrate with my friends. But when this son of yours came back, who has devoured your property with prostitutes, you killed the fatted calf for him!' Then the father said to him, 'Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. But we had to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found.'"

I often refer to this passage as my testimony. I left my godly home and loving family and spent years in deep sin and sadness. The parallels in the passage and my choices are very similar. The prodigal son ended up working with pigs which in the Jewish religion was about as low as you could go. I ended up working for a known cocaine dealer, using drugs and doing all kinds of immoral things to survive. In my most desperate moments I would pray for help to find my way home, but it seemed impossible. In His perfect time God worked to move me from the depths and He ran to me. I am still amazed. I have never once questioned why God allowed me to stray so far for so long. I know for sure I never understood the meaning of God's mercy and forgiveness until He met me on that road stinking of sin and starving, and He put His finest robe on me and prepared a feast for me at the table of grace.

The father in this story is saddened by his son who has followed the letter of the law but who's heart rejects his father's decision to welcome his brother with open arms. Our Father's love, just like the father in this story, chooses the sinner not the righteous to be saved and celebrated. One of my greatest stumbling blocks to returning home and to the church was a deep fear of telling my story. Growing up in a church full of what seemed like "good" people, I had never really seen God's children with open arms for truly "bad" people--people who maybe smell, have lots of tattoos and skirts too short. People who were maybe in the bar the night before or even on the street corner. I love that Jesus was never afraid to be with those kinds of people, for they are the ones He came to seek and save.

As I read this again tonight I began to pray that I would not be the other brother in the prodigal story of someone else trying to find their way home. I prayed that God would give me opportunities to tell of when He ran to me, especially to sinners, people who really need to be rescued and redeemed. Thank You for being the Father who gave Your own Son's life to adopt me. Thank You for returning those "wasted" years of my life in lessons learned about amazing love and unending forgiveness and grace.

Delicious Autumn

2008-09-22T19:52:00.004-04:00

Delicious autumn! My very soul is wedded to it, and if I were a bird I would fly about the earth seeking the successive autumns.
--George Eliot

Thank You for perfect September days like today and old friends like the hardy mum who come to visit as the season changes. Great is Your faithfulness!

Small Enough

2008-09-17T20:46:00.006-04:00

Small Enough (With Fernando Ortega) - Nichole Nordeman

I pick up Delaney from the bus everyday at a church about 10 minutes from our house. I make sure I leave plenty early in case there is traffic and to allow for the bus if it arrives a few minutes early. In the past few weeks I have come to treasure this 10 minutes or so sitting in the car waiting. Sometimes I take my Bible or a book to read but usually I park, roll down my window and breathe. Today I closed my eyes and prayed as tears fell down my cheeks. I needed God to touch me. I have been in so much physical pain. I have been so tired. I have been striving and working so hard. As I opened my eyes, a beautiful Monarch butterfly flew in front of my windshield and stopped to flutter for a moment.

Thank You, O great God, for being small enough to show Yourself to me today in this gorgeous creature that has always symbolized to me Your transforming power in my heart and life.

(If you have never heard this song turn up your volume and prepare your heart to pray these powerful lyrics. It's one of my favorites.)

What is the chief end of man?

2008-09-15T09:15:00.004-04:00

As I began a new Bible study at church last night the leader took us through hermeneutics as a foundation of our study. She reminded us of the catechism question I had learned in childhood, "What is the chief end of man? Man's chief end is to glorify God and enjoy Him forever." Or translated, why am I here? What is this life all about? I spent last week in the doldrums. I wasn't feeling well physically and could not discipline myself to read or study the Bible. As a result I felt further and further from God when I tried to pray. On Saturday as I began all the chores I usually undertake on that day I realized something. I didn't FEEL like doing laundry or dishes or cleaning the bathroom, but I would never really consider not doing those things because I KNOW they are necessary. Here I was neglecting the one place God promises to speak to me, in His Word, because I didn't FEEL like doing the work necessary to meet Him there.

This morning I read the following and it reiterated what God began showing me the past few days. I am here to glorify God and become more like Him. I need to make this the focus of my priorities and discipline before anything else.

Thank You for more lessons in WHAT REALLY MATTERS. Help me to seek You first and KNOW everything else I need will be added to me.

The purpose of God for our life on earth
(J. R. Miller, "Garden of the Heart" 1906)

We should get it settled in our minds, that the purpose of God for our life on earth, is to have us grow into Christ's image. We are not in this world merely to accomplish a certain amount of work--but to be fashioned into strength and beauty of character. If we would always remember this, we would not be perplexed so often by the mysteries of our lives.

If joy is ours--it is to make us better and a greater blessing to others.

If sorrow is ours--it is to purify us and bring out some line of Christ's image in us more clearly.

If our hopes are disappointed--it is because God has some better things for us, than that which we so earnestly desired.

If we are called to endure pain--it is because the best in us can be called out only by pain.

If bereavement comes and we are left without the strong human arm we have leaned upon heretofore--it is because there are elements of strength in our life, which never could be developed unless the human supports were taken away.

If our burdens are heavy--it is because we grow best under burdens.

If we are wronged by others--it is to teach us better, the great lessons of patience and sweet temper.

If our circumstances are uncongenial and our condition hard--it is that we may be disciplined into self-control, and may learn to be content in whatever state we are in.

The Master is always teaching us new lessons, making us into the beauty of the pattern He has set for us, and preparing us for greater usefulness and better service.

Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?" - Mary Oliver

2008-09-13T09:17:00.006-04:00

We had cupcakes for breakfast today, the last indulgence from a birthday celebration that seemed to last a month. Here's my sweet Delaney Jayne in a montage of photos from the last year of her life and a song we love to dance to.

Thank You for another year of wild and precious life with this girl made from my flesh and my heart.

Photo and video editing at www.OneTrueMedia.com

Will these feet wear . . .

2008-09-11T20:27:00.009-04:00

Feeling emotional about Delaney's birthday tomorrow I pulled out her baby scrapbook after I tucked the girls in, and this page (click on the photo to see it up close) made me cry buckets. Lately Delaney is full of conversation about her future and tells me she wants to be a "dolphin doctor" when she grows up. If she gets fired from that she wants to be a clothes designer, and if she gets fired from that, a vet. (I'm not sure why all the terminations.) Oh yes, and she wants to live in New York City. I began to tell her she couldn't be a dolphin doctor in New York but would have to live at the beach. She set me straight by reminding me she could work at an aquarium in the city. I love that nothing is impossible in her world. The following is from her baby scrapbook as well, and it too struck a chord with me tonight.

dream big

i hope you'll dream a thousand and one dreams for your life . . . but, remember, dreams don't come to those who sit and wait for them - you have to go after them. i would be foolish to wish your every dream to come true; that would be setting you up for disappointment. in the past, i've dreamed some dreams that i now thank God didn't come true. now i trust my heavenly father to know which of my dreams are best for me . . . and that's exactly what i wish for you. dream big, but don't dream for just a fairytale . . . real life can be so much more exciting than a fairytale; it just depends on your perspective. most importantly, just dream . . . if you don't, you'll never know how it feels to have a dream come true.

I pray my girl will learn to dream big and with God's grace and a grateful heart her story will write itself like a fairytale. ("Happily ever after" is a sure thing when God is the author of our lives!) Sitting here in Ohio with 11 list rentals to do tonight, a tedious and very uncreative job, wearing frumpy jammies with my hair too long and my feet aching for a pedicure, I let my mind wander for a minute to where I could be had I chased other dreams. My heart stops. I wouldn't trade this place in my life--this day with these precious girls for ANYTHING. I remember my mom telling my sisters and I, three of us 18 months apart, that on some of her hardest days as a mom she was so thankful she could look out her kitchen window and know the world was larger than where she was right then and she was more than who she was for those fleeting years. Now she is still a mom and a grandma but following her dreams as a school principal and working on her PHD. I never forgot her words, and it is the same knowing that brings me peace on hard days when my heart grows restless for a "real" city and the boardroom and the spa. I want Delaney and Danica to see this amazing world and then put it in perfect perspective with the kind of joy I know being a wife and mother in a little rental house in northeast Ohio. I want them to know life is about seasons and they don't have to choose which shoes to wear because they can wear them all!

Heroes

2008-09-11T08:35:00.006-04:00

“A hero is an ordinary individual who finds the strength to persevere and endure in spite of overwhelming obstacles." Christopher Reeves

I woke this morning at 5 am and felt next to me for my husband. He was still not home. He went to work yesterday at 8:30 am and had now worked over 20 hours straight. I could not go back to sleep so I began my morning prayers. I prayed for this man who cheerfully works so hard to provide for his family even though it seems like it's never quite enough. I prayed for my sister Rochelle and her family. She has spent the last two weeks, day in and day out (nights too), caring for her very sick father-in-law and mother-in-law with Alzheimers. Her exhaustion is palpable yet she keeps putting one foot in front of another. I prayed for my friend, Angie, through the first year of her breast cancer treatment and now doing the hard work of trying to live and LIVE. I prayed for all the families of September 11, 2001. Their wounds are only 7 years young, and they must painfully remember not just on an anniversary but every day what they have lost and what they must move forward without.

As I drove Delaney to school this morning I kept thinking about heroes. These people who sacrifice for others, fight daily battles and survive and thrive are just as heroic as the ones who give their lives. There are no ceremonies for them and very little affirmation they are doing something brave, but they are heroes just the same.

Thank you for the courage of these everyday people. Please give them strength and grace for each moment today.

PEACE

2008-09-05T09:21:00.004-04:00

"Peace I leave with you, My peace I give to you; not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid." John 14:27

Yesterday morning I had a doctors appointment at 9:30 am, and I had to drop Delaney at school by 8:00 am. I ran a few errands, and then I parked in front of the doctor's office. I sat in the quiet car. I was still, but I felt like all my synapses were firing. I had been nights without any real sleep. I had shooting pains through my trap muscles and down my arms. My hips and knees ached. I felt like I had forgotten to breathe for a very long time.

When I find myself in a fibro flare like this I seem to keep going on autopilot. I keep working, keep cleaning, making dinner and giving the kids their baths. I push and push through the pain, but I feel myself slipping further and further away from PEACE. I know if I stop for even a minute I won't get up. I will curl up in a fetal position and let myself go to the place that offers no real comfort but Satan tells me is understandable and even deserved. I want to complain and despair.

So I stopped, and I exhaled. My body relaxed, and I prayed. "God, give me Your peace." As my prayer made it's way through the years of pain since my initial diagnosis and the periods of reprieve, for which I am so grateful, I realized a pattern. Not one explained by foods I was eating or amounts of exercise or weather patterns, although those certainly play a part, but a map showing me my flares have often been times when I have tried to make up my own answers for the questions plaguing my heart.

In the past month I have felt unrest with our financial situation. Suddenly, what I prayed for continuously and finally came, the provision of ENOUGH, has left me wanting more. I feel anxious about the collection calls. I want to pay everything off and really feel like I am "in control" again. I know to do this I would have to put my dear daughter, who I fought so hard to bring into this world and who I believe still needs me full time, in day care. I have prayed some about my inner struggles but not really, because I already know God's will. He wants me to be truly still. He wants me to revel in His daily manna and the amazing privilege of being here moment by moment with this child.

My fibro is His answer to me. Most people who suffer from severe fibromyalgia are type A stress monsters. We need to keep going and doing and being and our minds cannot quit at night so we don't sleep and our bodies refuse to rest and restore and so we break down. Bottom line, I need to take the peace freely given from my loving Father as my primary treatment. Real rest cannot be found in my Ambien or the past due medical bills being paid or any other temporary worldly rest but only in complete surrender to the peace that passes all understanding. This physical affliction is a blessing, a gift from a God who lovingly reminds me He is the Prince of Peace.

Holidays

2008-09-01T08:09:00.003-04:00

The holiest of all holidays are those
Kept by ourselves in silence and apart,
The secret anniversaries of the heart . . .
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

A year ago today I was at Shady Grove Adventist hospital. I was alone. My daughter was 400 miles away in Ohio. My husband had to sleep and work. I remember it like it was yesterday. It was one of the most painful days I had. I had no visitors. My faithful few called me to say "hello." The minutes of the day ticked away one by one. I cried and I prayed and I survived.

It wasn't different than any other day except that I felt like every one else was having picnics and swimming for the last time and gathering with family and friends, and I was forgotten. These memories of my hospitalization still haunt me but after a year they mostly make me celebrate secret anniversaries that prompt a more grateful heart.

Thank You for reminding me today of just how far You can bring me in a year. Thank You for Your healing and Your blessing of my dear Danica. Please be with those who are alone today and help them feel Your comfort.

KISS (Keep It Simple Stupid)

2008-08-29T09:29:00.006-04:00

"Stupid" is a bad word in our house, but it comes to mind when I think of this common acronym I learned in a sales 101 class many years ago. It describes my motto for anything technical. I am the first to admit I am not great at using very technical things. I am pretty computer savvy and clearly have made great strides recently since I work as a database administrator, but I still have trouble with the crazy remote control and once technical things are set up and I learn to use them I want them to stay that way!!!

My dear husband works as an IT analyst. Like most men he loves technical things. He loves stereos and speakers, gadgets and putzing with computers. More than anything he loves messing with our home PC. Granted, I have my own laptop I work on but our home PC is beefed up with all kinds of extra hard drive space, and I still use it for photos, music and other storage. I also have my own ipod. It's the 30GB one, now a dinosaur, that came out almost 4 years ago. I was not even near the 10K songs it would hold, but I have lovingly added the soundtrack of my life in that time.

My music is gone. My husband decided within one week to do something crazy to our home PC, and lost our itunes library. I don't know how that happens especially if you are a "computer expert" (AIR QUOTES), but it did. In the same week he decided for some crazy reason to clear my ipod and "fix" it (IT WASN'T BROKEN!!!!). I am furious. I am mad and sad and mad again. I feel like my photos were burned in a fire. These songs were so dear to me. They are gone. I know I could replace them, but it represents money we don't have and lots of time to search and find them and make playlists. Playlists that represent days and weeks and years of my life and even playlists made for people who I love.

I love my husband to death. (Ok, maybe I shouldn't say death right now.) Through tears I beg him, please KEEP IT SIMPLE STUPID and leave my stuff alone! Another lesson for me in letting go of control, releasing things that ultimately don't matter and not wasting emotion spent on something passing away.

Thank you for teaching me about forgiveness through this silly loss. Help me to turn my eyes upon you today so "the things of this world will grow strangely dim in the light of Your glory and grace."

Tag, You're It

2008-08-28T13:55:00.003-04:00

Ok, so I have never really done what I now know is called a meme (does that mean ME, ME like "pay attention to me"?) on my blog, but SuzyQ from Sailing by Starlight has kindly tagged me for this honor of sharing some quirky things about myself.

Here goes:

1. I have OCD. There is rarely a day you would knock on my door to surprise me and my home is not "company clean". I wipe my kitchen counter off with a clorox wipe at least three times a day and my bathroom sink and counter each time I use it. I do not expect you to keep your home this way, but I must.

2. I am so brave about most things (like traveling alone to places I have never been, dark parking lots, new situations with new people, etc.), but I'm a complete scaredy cat at home alone at night.

3. I once had my belly button pierced, and I still really want a tattoo--a butterfly for Delaney and a dragonfly for Danica.

4. I absolutely cannot eat at any kind of buffet or pot luck. Not knowing if you washed your hands before cooking or if your cat walks on your counter completely freaks me out. (I told you I have OCD!)

5. One of the THINGS (and it is only a thing!) I am most proud of is my Louis Vuitton handbag. I worked so hard to afford it, and I am proud of it because of what it symbolizes to me not others, but I know others are thinking, "I can't believe she would pay that much for a purse." It's a classic, and I will carry it forever. (PS. I would NEVER pay that much for a purse again.)

6. I grew up dreaming of being a children's librarian but somehow I fell into real estate and got stuck. I still believe I will end up back in those beloved stacks of books someday.

Ok, here is who I tag. I know it's not the six, but it's a start. I am new to the blogging world and honestly began blogging as another form of journaling for my family and not for others to read. I have been blessed to meet some amazing kindred spirits through this medium and reconnected with some old friends too. If I tag you and you are completely annoyed, as I hear people are with this kind of thing, I am sorry in advance. ;)

The best days of my life

The Journey of a Superhero Mom

Spring of Joy

(Here are the official rules:1. Link the person who tagged you.2. Mention the rules on your blog.3. Tell about 6 unspectacular quirks of yours.4. Tag 6 following bloggers by linking them.5. Leave a comment on each of the tagged blogger’s blogs letting them know they’ve been tagged. )

Redeeming Love

2008-08-27T09:55:00.005-04:00

"God saved you by His special favor when you believed. And you can't take credit for this; it is a gift from God. Salvation is not a reward for the good things we have done, so none of us can boast about it. For we are God's masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so that we can do the good things He planned for us long ago." Ephesians 2:8-10

I stayed up after my work to read last night, something I used to do regularly but with the kids and lists and our very early morning schedule I have not done in awhile. A friend gave me the book Redeeming Love by Francine Rivers. I don't really read Christian fiction, so I was skeptical. I have to admit I could not put the book down. I am half way done and will write more when I finish because this book is speaking to me in powerful ways about God's love for me. The book is a retelling of the book of Hosea with the central theme of God's unconditional, redemptive love. As I read Ann's post at Holy Experience this morning her words about being exposed to one another as we are to Christ were resounding in my heart. I hear God calling me to tell the story of His amazing love for me out loud. I hear Him asking me to be braver to show my scars and give Him glory for saving me from the depths. Oh how grateful I am this quiet morning for the healing that comes from the One who will not let me go. Why am I so shy to uncover the very wounds that make me approachable, real, like my neighbor and friend, and then tell of the miracle that took place by touching the hem of Christ's robe?

Thank You for Your redeeming love. Thank You for running to me when I was in the depths of sin and sadness and saving me. Make me bolder to share my story with others so they too may know this kind of love, for "Anyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved. But how can they call on Him to save them unless they believe in Him? And how can they believe in Him if they have not heard about Him? And can they hear about Him unless someone tells them?" Romans 10:13-14

Somewhere in the Middle

2008-08-26T11:04:00.006-04:00

This morning it was 51 degrees as I set out on my walk through our neighborhood. I was chilly, but I didn't wear a hoodie because I wanted to feel the cool air on my skin as I turned my face towards the warm sunshine. Oh how I love these days as summer turns into fall. I listened to the Casting Crowns East to West album on my ipod as I walked. One of the songs that speaks to me every single time I hear it is Somewhere in the Middle. Today it made me think of the scale of my life. I have felt caught in the middle of many things lately.

I thought of the literal scale and the last five (ok, seven) pounds I cannot seem to lose since having Danica. I thought about my half-hearted effort to really make the change through exercise because I know that is what will really make the difference for me. I have become comfortable with the scale that no one else sees, the few pounds that my clothes hide, that are easily justified and explained. Every one looks at me and sees a "tall and thin" woman, but I know I am not my personal best, and I have been making excuses as to why I have not disciplined myself to take control of this area of my life.

I thought about how this is just like the many ways I get close to obeying God or disciplining myself spiritually, but I refuse to let go of the "last" (and by last I mean currently plaguing) five (ok, seven) sins that I am hanging on to. I mean they are mostly hidden by my outward efforts to be "good" and are easily justified and explained, right? I hear God calling me to DO HARD THINGS, and I find myself somewhere in the middle of answering Him. Sometimes I even take up the cross, but then I just stand there too afraid to follow, or too tired, or just too bogged down in things that don't really matter or even things that do matter but don't matter the most.

I love the part of the lyrics that sing:

Just how close can I get, Lord, to my surrender without losing all control?

Fearless warriors in a picket fence, reckless abandon wrapped in common sense
Deep water faith in the shallow end and we are caught in the middle
With eyes wide open to the differences, the God we want and the God who is
But will we trade our dreams for His or are we caught in the middle
Are we caught in the middle

As I walked a little further this morning I played the entire song again praying through the words. Only the "God who is" can help me lay it all down and move me forward in my quest to really know Him and love Him and be like Him. I praise Him for the desire He has placed in my heart. I praise Him for the grace He so willingly gives each day to help me answer His calls. I want to be a fearless warrior! I want reckless abandon and deep water faith! I want to dream God's dreams for my life.

Thank you for the lessons learned even from the middle ground. Please help me know Your love wherever I am and give me the growth and grace to take a step closer to You today.

Here are all the lyrics:

Somewhere between the hot and the cold
Somewhere between the new and the old
Somewhere between who I am and who I used to be
Somewhere in the middle, You'll find me

Somewhere between the wrong and the right
Somewhere between the darkness and the light
Somewhere between who I was and who You're making me
Somewhere in the middle, You'll find me

Just how close can I get, Lord, to my surrender without losing all control

Fearless warriors in a picket fence, reckless abandon wrapped in common sense
Deep water faith in the shallow end and we are caught in the middle
With eyes wide open to the differences, the God we want and the God who is
But will we trade our dreams for His or are we caught in the middle
Are we caught in the middle

Somewhere between my heart and my hands
Somewhere between my faith and my plans
Somewhere between the safety of the boat and the crashing waves

Somewhere between a whisper and a roar
Somewhere between the altar and the door
Somewhere between contented peace and always wanting more
Somewhere in the middle You'll find me

Just how close can I get, Lord, to my surrender without losing all control

Lord, I feel You in this place and I know You're by my side
Loving me even on these nights when I'm caught in the middle

A plain, common Monday

2008-08-25T08:01:00.006-04:00

Only a plain, common day(J. R. Miller, "The Every Day of Life" 1892)

Perhaps the every-day of life, is not as interesting--as are some of the bright special days. It is apt to be somewhat monotonous. It is just like a great many other days. It has nothing special to mark it. It is illuminated by no brilliant event. It bears no record of any brave or noble deed done. It is not made memorable by the coming of any new experience into the life--a new hope, a new friendship, a new joy, and a new success. It is not even touched with sorrow, and made to stand out with the memory of loss or struggle. It is only a plain, common day--with just the same old wearisome routine--of tasks and duties and happenings, which have come so often before.

Yet it is the every-day, which is really the best measure and the test of noble living. Anybody can do well on special occasions. Anybody can be good--on Sundays. Anybody can be bright and cheerful--in exhilarating society. Anybody can be sweet--amid gentle influences. Anybody can make an isolated self-denial--for some conspicuous object; or do a generous deed--under the impulse of some unusual emotion. Anybody can do a heroic thing--once or twice in a lifetime. These are beautiful things. They shine like lofty peaks above life's plains.

But the ordinary attainment of the common days--is a truer index of the life--a truer measure of its character and value--than are the most striking and brilliant things of its exalted moments. It requires more strength to be faithful in the ninety-nine commonplace duties, when no one is looking on, when there is no special motive to stir the soul to its best effort--than it does in the one duty, which by its unusual importance, or by its conspicuousness, arouses enthusiasm for its own doing. It is a great deal easier to be brave in one stern conflict which calls for heroism, in which large interests are involved--than to be brave in the thousand little struggles of the common days--for which it seems scarcely worth while to put on the armor. It is very much less a task to be good-natured under one great provocation, in the presence of others--than it is to keep sweet temper month after month of ordinary days, amid the frictions, strife's, petty annoyances, and cares of home-life.

Thus it is, that one's every-day life is a surer revealer of noble character--than one's public acts. There are men who are magnificent when they appear on great occasions--wise, eloquent, masterly--but who are almost utterly unendurable in their fretfulness, unreasonableness, irascibility, and all manner of selfish disagreeableness, in the privacy of their own homes--to those whom they ought to show all of love's gentleness and sweetness! There are women, too, who shine with wondrous brilliancy in society, sparkling in conversation, winning in manner, always the center of admiring groups, resistless in their charms--but who, in their every-day life, in the presence of only their own households--are the dullest and most wearisome of mortals! No doubt in these cases--the common every-day, unflattering as it is--is a truer expression of the inner life--than the hour or two of greatness or graciousness, in the blaze of the public.

On the other hand, there are men who are never heard of on the street, whose names never appear in the newspapers, who do no great conspicuous things, whose lives have no glittering peaks towering high--and yet the level plain of their years--is rich in its beauty and its fruitfulness of love. Likewise, there are women who are the idols of no drawing-rooms, who attract no throngs of admirers around them by resistless charms--but who, in their own quiet sheltered world--do their daily tasks with faithfulness, move in ways of humble duty and quiet cheerfulness, and pour out their heart's pure love, like fragrance, on all around them. Who will say that the uneventful and un-praised every-day of these humble ones--is not radiant in God's sight, though they leave no memorial--but only a world made a little better by their lives?

It is in the every-day of life, that nearly all the world's best work is done. The tall mountain peaks lift their glittering crests into the clouds, and win attention and admiration; but it is in the great valleys and broad plains, that the harvests grow and the fruits ripen--on which the millions of earth feed their hunger. Likewise, it is not from the few conspicuous deeds of life, that the blessings chiefly come, which make the world, better, sweeter, happier--but from the countless humble services of the every-days, the little faithfulnesses which fill long years. By the simple beauty of their own humble lives, by their quiet deeds of self-sacrifice, by the songs of their cheerful faith, and by the ministries of their helpful hands--they make one little spot of this sad earth, brighter and happier!

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Thank You for this plan, common Monday. Help me to live my life in Your pure love today.

The comfort of a true friend

2008-08-22T11:43:00.002-04:00

Oh, the comfort, the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person; having neither to weigh thoughts nor measure words, but to pour them all out, just as they are, chaff and grain together, knowing that a faithful hand will take and sift them, keep what is worth keeping, and then, with a breath of kindness, blow the rest away.

Nothing real can be threatened. Nothing unreal exists. Herein lives the peace of God.

2008-08-20T09:16:00.004-04:00

My friend Sharon and I began a "circle journal" (remember the title of my old blog?). It's a journal that two or more people write in and mail back and forth to one another. I received it in the mail from her yesterday and oh what a confirmation that we are true kindred spirits. The Velveteen Rabbit has long been one of my favorite children's stories. (I am also a big fan of the adult book, The Velveteen Principles, A Guide to Becoming Real. If you haven't read it you should!) I have never in the probably one hundred or more times I have read this story in my life thought of it in the way Sharon shared in our journal. I was blown away!

"What is REAL?" asked the Rabbit one day, when they were lying side by side near the nursery fender, before Nana came to tidy the room. "Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?"

"Real isn't how you are made," said the Skin Horse. "It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real."

"Does it hurt?" asked the Rabbit.

"Sometimes," said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. "When you are Real you don't mind being hurt."

"Does it happen all at once, like being wound up," he asked, "or bit by bit?"

"It doesn't happen all at once," said the Skin Horse. "You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand."

(So the rabbit becomes the little boy's favorite toy and he even calls him "real." )

. . .Weeks passed, and the little Rabbit grew very old and shabby, but the Boy loved him just as much. He loved him so hard that he loved all his whiskers off, and the pink lining to his ears turned grey, and his brown spots faded. He even began to lose his shape, and he scarcely looked like a rabbit any more, except to the Boy. To him he was always beautiful, and that was all that the little Rabbit cared about. He didn't mind how he looked to other people, because the nursery magic had made him Real, and when you are Real shabbiness doesn't matter.

(Then the little boy gets very sick with scarlet fever and eventually all his toys must be burned. The rabbit is in a pile in the garden so depressed and lonely.)

. . .Of what use was it to be loved and lose one's beauty and become Real if it all ended like this? And a tear, a real tear, trickled down his little shabby velvet nose and fell to the ground.

And then a strange thing happened. For where the tear had fallen a flower grew out of the ground, a mysterious flower, not at all like any that grew in the garden. It had slender green leaves the colour of emeralds, and in the centre of the leaves a blossom like a golden cup. It was so beautiful that the little Rabbit forgot to cry, and just lay there watching it. And presently the blossom opened, and out of it there stepped a fairy.

She was quite the loveliest fairy in the whole world. Her dress was of pearl and dew-drops, and there were flowers round her neck and in her hair, and her face was like the most perfect flower of all. And she came close to the little Rabbit and gathered him up in her arms and kissed him on his velveteen nose that was all damp from crying.

"Little Rabbit," she said, "don't you know who I am?"

The Rabbit looked up at her, and it seemed to him that he had seen her face before, but he couldn't think where.

"I am the nursery magic Fairy," she said. "I take care of all the playthings that the children have loved. When they are old and worn out and the children don't need them any more, then I come and take them away with me and turn them into Real."

"Wasn't I Real before?" asked the little Rabbit.

"You were Real to the Boy," the Fairy said, "because he loved you. Now you shall be Real to every one."

So, it's an amazing story, but the application Sharon made struck me in the deepest part of my heart. She wrote, "Isn't that such a story of salvation? As I read it I could not help but cry. We are created and beautiful, but not truly alive until we receive God's love. He puts us through trials and often pain, but it shapes who we are. In our human nature we are flawed but His grace covers us. And when He takes us home He makes us complete in Him--TRULY REAL, as He is and how He designed us to be. Once You are real you can't become unreal again. . . What a promise! What hope!"

I will never read this story the same way again.

Thank You for making me REAL through the saving love of Christ. Thank You that I can never become unreal again. Thank You for my friend and the work You are doing in her life and the gift she is to me.

End of summer blues

2008-08-19T21:37:00.005-04:00

I am feeling sad tonight. Tomorrow my Laney Jayne will begin first grade. All day I felt a heaviness I couldn't explain, and I realized tonight as I read books with my girl and tucked her in I don't want to let this last day of summer go. I missed her entire summer last year lying in bed at home or in the hospital. This summer I spent much of my time sitting in this chair working on list rentals so we can pay our bills. I feel regret of some kind. I have done what must be done, but I feel like it fell short of a "real" summer somehow. I could see it in her eyes as I tried so hard to talk up the excitement of beginning school tomorrow that she could see right through me. She wasn't buying it for a minute.

We didn't get to go to the beach again this year, and I can admit I want to cry about it. I won't, but I want to. It's now two years without the salty sea air and sand between my toes and bloody marys for breakfast, lunch or dinner with fresh crabs and shrimp. I miss long walks on the beach and runs on the trails in the neighborhood where we stay. I miss reading an entire book in a day, bending the spine all the way back and leaving sand in the pages to find months later when I most need to remember the place I love and need to visit to be okay. I miss naps on the deck in the sun. I miss finding sea glass and shells and scouring area shops for pottery and art. I miss no phone calls or computer and the feeling like no one can reach me. (I love that feeling!) Delaney has been missing the beach too. In her world she doesn't understand why we cannot jump in the car and drive there. Don't you miss believing everything in life is just that possible?

Dan said as we snuggled in bed last night that he felt a peace he couldn't explain. We took Laney to her new classroom to meet her teacher and put her supplies in her desk. Her school is such a special place, and I am so grateful she is there. I am so grateful for my parent's continued financial sacrifice to help us pay the tuition to keep her there. I know what he meant about the peace. Our lives have finally found the rhythm we both ache for. It shares the ebbs and flows of the beloved ocean I love. Morning and evening the tides of our family's life come and go and we inhale and exhale with praise.

And so tonight pushing through my end of summer blues, I will breathe joy for being right here, able to kiss my daughter on her first day of first grade when last year I was 400 miles away from her on her first day of Kindergarten. I will praise my God for His mercies which are new every morning believing He knows the desires of my heart, and He will bring me back to the beach in His providence. "To everything there is a season, a time for every purpose under heaven."

Small Miracles

2008-08-19T09:44:00.005-04:00

"Maybe I wrote Everyday Sacred to learn about miracles," I said in the prologue.

I wanted a big miracle, one that would last, but one of the characteristics of a big miracle, the kind I had hoped for, is "its sudden appearance and disappearance within the natural order." Instead, to my surprise, I began to discover the power of small things.

A friend made a pilgrimage to India. She saw many holy places, but her favorite was a mound made up of little pebbles, not one of them beautiful or exotic. For hundreds of years pilgrims had come to the site and each placed a tiny stone offering on the mound. The accumulation of these tiny stones became a "sacred" place.

I saw those little stones as stepping stones.

Stepping stones to a new way of seeing.

Small changes in behavior, attitude, feelings, can, like the little pebbles, add up to another kind of miracle. Small miracles do build up and they can last.

Everyday Sacred, Sue Bender

Thank You for the small miracles You bless me with everyday. Help me to open my eyes and my heart to see more clearly Your constant love and grace.

The Family

2008-08-18T20:42:00.004-04:00

The family. We were a strange little band of characters trudging through life sharing diseases and toothpaste, coveting one another's desserts, hiding shampoo, borrowing money, locking each other out of our rooms, inflicting pain and kissing to heal it in the same instant, loving, laughing, defending, and trying to figure out the common thread that bound us all together. ~Erma Bombeck

I have been MIA for a few days busy with my family. Often I feel like I need a Xanax or a gin martini when put into group settings with my extended family. (I realized this weekend it is probably more a general anxiety disorder related to ALL large social settings and my family just kicks it up a notch.) Our society places such extreme pressure on us to find deep meaning and satisfaction in our relationships with those bound by blood. I believe this sets us up for constant disappointment. At the end of the day I know for sure there is a common thread, and if I take the time and effort to follow it closely it will take me to the hearts of these people, most of whom I may never even speak to if I met them as strangers on the street.

One lesson God has been teaching me recently is to really try to meet people where THEY are. If I go into any relationship with the rules all set about who I want the other person to be or how they should look or behave I am sorely disappointed and completely frustrated. God showed me again this weekend that He can only work through me when I surrender to the truth that He is in control, and I cannot play "god" in other's lives anymore than I can in my own. This is especially hard with close family. It's another call to let go of something that was never mine in the first place and let God do His perfect work on His timetable.

Thank You for my family. Thank You for time with them and the common threads we share. Please help me to surrender my expectations and humbly seek to love as You have loved me.

Pain in Becoming

2008-08-13T10:47:00.005-04:00

I just had to post this picture of my dear Dani Jean from Sunday night. What a week we have had since her accident. I have been thinking so much about the role that pain plays in our life-- physically, emotionally and spiritually. I have watched my little one hurting and finding her own ways to cope with her injury. I have prayed and cried as I had to cause her further pain by moving her neck where it did not want to go to aid in healing. It is completely unnatural to cause your child intentional pain. It made me think of my Heavenly Father and all the pain He has allowed in my life recently, and I understood His heart for me even more. I know how sad it makes Him to see me suffer as He bends and moves the muscles of my heart to make me whole for His glory. But His love reaches so far beyond my circumstances and temporary comfort to my eternal soul. I pray for this kind of Father love as I seek to parent my girls. I pray to learn to look beyond their instant gratification and childish wants and needs to the women God wants them to be. I pray for grace to train them up with a long term goal, realizing that pain is a critical part of the process in becoming all we are meant to be in Christ Jesus.

Thank You for lessons learned through pain, all grace from a loving Father.

Oryoki

2008-08-12T14:35:00.002-04:00

"Oryoki," he said (the Japanese name for a begging bowl) "means 'just enough.'"

JUST ENOUGH

Two words.

Somewhere between the image of an empty bowl that made me feel peaceful and the too much that was driving me crazy, was a moderate, balanced space of JUST ENOUGH.

What is the path from Too much to Just enough? I began to wonder.

Sue Bender, Everyday Sacred

Safe

2008-08-07T14:47:00.009-04:00

Over the past month God has brought into my life several people who are hurting and searching for a safe place. As I have fervently prayed for them God has moved in my own heart to remind me of the dark places He rescued me from. If I am honest with myself I have hidden away much of my past because even the people closest to me do not know how bad it truly was. I am still ashamed in many respects but also afraid. Although I have much assurance of God's love and complete forgiveness, I still fear those so ready to judge past scarlet letters instead of rejoicing in the cloak of grace I now humbly wear.

Before my pregnancy I began praying for God to show me how to serve Him. On Monday I had dinner with a friend who is hurting but healing, and I shared with her the stories of the others I know in a similar search for peace. I told her how badly I wished I could provide a haven for them to rest and recover. I realized God was showing me His will as I spoke. Again He was telling me to be faithful right where He has me with the people He has in providence brought into my life. He is encouraging me to be bolder in sharing my testimony and more willing to sacrifice my time and resources to reach those closest and call them to the same grace given freely to me. There is no longer any shame, only amazing love shining through those dark years. I have no cause to be afraid. I am safe in the arms of my Savior.

Hold Loosely

2008-08-05T22:03:00.009-04:00

I know what it feels like--the kind of love so deep it aches. Tonight as I rode in the ambulance with my dear Danica screaming in pain I felt the utter helplessness a mother goes through over and over in her children's lives when she cannot make it better. I have been there with Delaney; during several febrile seizures brought on by high fever, when she split her head open at Montessori and when she knocked her front teeth and mouth at White Flint. Outside of Danica's scary birth and stay in the NICU this is my first health drama with her. I know to stay calm and say it will be alright. I know to sing soft songs while I hold them and tell them how much I love them. I know to pray hard. I know to hold them loosely. They are not mine, just a gift for this moment.

I wasn't prepared for how I would feel taking Danica back into a hospital. I had a severe physical reaction to the ER. I had to keep myself from throwing up. I couldn't keep the tears from streaming down my face. I kept saying over and over to the nurse, "She has NEVER cried like this. Something is wrong." Delaney was there with me. She was the reason we were here. After being told over and over again not to pick up her sister she had disobeyed and somehow twisted her arm while she lifted her. I was trying to balance the justified anger at her causing this situation and even more love that hurts--wanting her to really learn how much pain and sorrow can come from ignoring clear directives.

My sweet Danica child is home sleeping now. She will heal. Her arm is sprained but not broken. I will not sleep tonight. I will listen for any whimper or cry and go to her. I am so tired. My arms and back hurt so badly from holding Danica for hours at the hospital, but I will eventually try to rest on the floor in her room.

As we waited for Danica to have her arm x-rayed tonight I told Dan that I really understood what my parents did for us in the last year. All those trips back and forth on the turnpike to be with me. All the sacrifices they made to care for Delaney and love her while I could not. All the times my mom sat with me in the hospital and just held my hand. All the love and care they had for my husband, now their son. There was no Suze Orman shouting in their ear to look out for their retirement more than care for our family financially. There was no judgment about the very hard decisions we had to make during that time. They showed they would go to the ends of the earth for me, for us. No doubt it hurt like it never had before to see the anguish I was in physically and emotionally and mentally. But they stayed and loved with the deep aching kind of love only parents have for their children.

Here in the quiet of the night I am thinking of the love reflected from my own parents to my heart and life and reflected again to my daughters from Dan and I, all mirror images of a love we learned from our Abba Father who sent His own Son to die so we might live. I am thinking of how we grieve our Father when we ignore His clear directives and cause pain and sadness in our lives. I am thinking of how His grace shines through even our sin. Tonight I realize once again how fragile this precious life is. I will not take it for granted. I will take the love that hurts so badly sometimes it seems unbearable and say "thank you" for the gift of feeling this love at all. Every minute I hold these children of God is a treasure. May I never forget they are His and not mine.

Highchair If. . .

2008-08-05T11:52:00.004-04:00

As I clean the highchair for the millionth time, knowing the next meal it will need cleaned again, I hear Amy Carmichael's words resonating in my heart:

"If monotony tries me, and I cannot stand drudgery; . . . if I make much of the trifles of life, then I know nothing of Calvary love."

Thank you for lessons learned about Your love through daily chores done heartily unto You.

This Thorn

2008-08-04T08:45:00.009-04:00

"If you have not slept, or if you have slept, or if you have a headache, or sciatica, or leprosy, or thunderstroke, I beseech you, by all angels, to hold your peace, and not pollute the morning." Ralph Waldo Emerson

I have had fibromyalgia since 2001. The flares of pain come and go based on things I can control to some extent and sometimes with no explanation at all. Last night I spent a sleepless night because my right shoulder has shooting pains which make it almost impossible to find a position that doesn't hurt. This morning I am extremely tired and can barely lift Danica. When I begin a cycle of pain like this I am tempted to be disgruntled. What purpose does this continual physical trial have in my life?

Twila Paris sings a song about gratefulness for a thorn in her life. I rose from bed and prayed about my response to how I am feeling and then searched for this song on my ipod. I meditated on these words:

Thank you for this thorn embedded in my flesh
I can feel the mystery, my spirit is made fresh
You are sovereign still and forever wise
I can see the miracle opening my eyes

To a proud heart so quick to judge
Laying down crosses and carrying grudges
The veil has been torn
And I thank you for this thorn

Thank you for this thorn fellowship of pain
Teaching me to know you more never to complain
Thank You for this love planted in my side
Faithful patient miracle opening my eyes

I never thought I'd say it without reservation
But I am truly grateful for this piercing revelation
Of a proud heart so quick to judge
Laying down crosses and carrying grudges
The veil has been torn
And I thank you for this thorn

And if You chose to take it, I will praise You
And thank You for the healing in Your name
But if it must remain, I thank You for Your rod
Evidence of Father-love for a child of God

I join You in sorrow
So much less than You have borne
And I thank you, really I thank You
Lord I thank You, I thank You for this thorn

I am constantly amazed at how the first hour of my morning sets the tone for my heart and life that day. Thank You for this thorn of fibro and the lessons it continuously teaches me about Your love for me. Give me the strength and grace to bear the fruit of Your Spirit as I present my body a living sacrifice to You.

Sister Love

2008-07-31T21:13:00.004-04:00

I've had a rough week. Even in a place I have created to plant and water my gratefulness out loud I know it's necessary for me to pull a few weeds from time to time. This was a week of weeding and pruning without too many blossoms left to fill my heart vase. My older sister Rochelle is a beautiful flower left standing in my garden. She is always there. She is sister love.

Today I received a package in the mail. It was a box with three new Ann Taylor v-neck shirts in perfect "Monica" colors and a sweater. Gifts from a sister who is always caring for me and giving. Over the last year she has filled so many spaces of need for our family. When school started last year she bought Delaney school clothes. She literally made Christmas for our family by sending gifts for each of us as well as Christmas dinner. Her gift to me was a beautiful set of Italian creamware dishes and flatware. Why? Because the night after I had Danica she stayed by my side while I thrashed in my bed sweating and screaming and talking out of my head. One of the crazy things I said was I wanted new dishes. (The funny thing is I really did!) Her family sacrificed for months to send money to us to keep our home and eat while I was sick and then recovering. This wasn't extra money they had, it was from giving up things they needed or wanted so we could make it through. This is sister love.

The gift today meant so much more than me having a couple new shirts to wear. It was the perfect timing. It reminded me that my sister is my lifelong friend. No matter what I need physically or emotionally she will always be there. We come from the same place and although so very different in many ways we are finding each day that we are more alike than not. More than anyone else we know the rhythms of each other's lives. We know what we are making for dinner, what our kids are thinking and saying each day, if we have a headache or cramps and what God is teaching us in the midst of all mundane. We remind one another that what we do each day really does matter and being faithful in the small things is a very real calling with eternal reward. We laugh and cry and complain and praise. We allow one another to talk into the wind when necessary and never judge. This is sister love.

I picture us someday, God willing, sitting at a table drinking tea with gray hair and wrinkled hands. There will be no catching up to do. We will know one another in and out. We will know the joy and the pain of this life. We will know amazing blessing and yes, even tragedy. We will see our God so much clearer than today, not faraway from seeing Him face to face. We will know sister love.

Thank You for my sister. Thank you for the gift of her friendship and love. Please bless and keep her tonight (and help her son Avery sleep in his room all by himself with no fuss so she can sleep in her own bed and spend time with her husband).

Mia Jane

2008-07-29T20:52:00.003-04:00

My sweet niece Mia Jane turned 3 years old on Sunday. We moved to Maryland when she was only 3 months old, and I am so blessed to have spent most of her life living just a few miles away from her. I made a scrapbook for her birthday, and I felt sad to give it away because it contained so many special memories of her precious life. I decided to make a montage of the photos set to a song that reminds me of her so I would have them as well. I love you Mia!

Make video montages at www.OneTrueMedia.com

A movement away

2008-07-29T09:01:00.004-04:00

Amazing how a single choice
alters my every option
How one momentary action
sets all else in motion
My own thought has changed the life
of every other person
And all that I am certain of
becomes a certain question

Relative to relationships
life is never lonely
Everything revolves around
the trust of wise decisions
When one move is made in haste
all will feel the pain
I stub my toe
you take the blow
and the world nurses the bruise

Selfishness perceives loneliness
the heart cannot protect
One who loves and one who hates
all can feel the wind
of change and choice
all are at the mercy of the others
Move and sing carefully, my dear,
Fragile lives and destinies
are only a movement away from change

Most of you know I love poetry and read it daily in some form or another. I don't really write it anymore which is a little weird since I used to write a lot, but I think it takes a discipline I no longer possess. Or maybe I am just a little jaded in some way I wasn't in my younger years. This poem is another from an old Asbury Theological Seminary blog, and they never give credit to the author. I had bookmarked it awhile ago and lying in bed last night I was thinking of it again, and so I looked for it this morning.

I was watching my husband closely the last few months. I have listened to the changes in his own heart and life. I see a peace and a contentment with our life that I often prayed he would find. I see no grumbling with the day to day work, yes even drudgery, that makes up a real life. I see him delight in his children and sacrifice to provide and still make time for them and for me, often with no time for himself at all.

There was a period in our lives several years ago when our family was just a movement away from falling apart. I had lost my way and commitment to our marriage, and it was my husband who found forgiveness and grace and moved to save our love and the possibility of what we now share. Not a day goes by that I don't think about how it could have been. Not a day goes by I don't fall on my knees in gratefulness for God intervening and changing both of our hearts and lives.

Last night as I snuggled with Dan I told him again how thankful I am for him. I told him how blessed I am by his response to our daily life. As I drifted off to sleep I thought about how close we were to the awful consequences of sin and selfishness. I thought about how every decision we make affects so much more than our little world. I prayed for God to guide and direct each movement I make for good and not evil.

Thank You for Your grace in situations where we deserve the consequences of wrong and You bless us with goodness and mercy. Thank You for my marriage and the living testament it is of how a movement, that of selfishness and pride, and a response of forgiveness and humility can change lives and reflect Your own amazing love.

In Stone

2008-07-28T08:51:00.001-04:00

Write your sorrows in sand and your blessings in stone

Richly Blessed

2008-07-26T14:22:00.005-04:00

I have had a clipping with this prayer of an unknown Confederate soldier on my refrigerator on and off for the past 5 years. I found it again today. I have never understood its' meaning like I do now. Thank You for giving me everything I have hoped for and more!

“I asked God for strength that I might achieve. I was made weak that I might learn humbly to obey. I asked for health that I might do greater things. I was given infirmity that I might do better things. I asked for riches that I might be happy. I was given poverty that I might be wise. I asked for power that I might have the praise of men. I was given weakness that I might feel the need of God. I asked for all things that I might enjoy life. I was given life that I might enjoy all things. I got nothing that I asked for, but everything I hoped for. Almost despite myself, my unspoken prayers were answered. I am, among all men, most richly blessed.”

When you think of Jesus . . .

2008-07-25T22:02:00.004-04:00

On Friday nights I always feel the same way--completely and totally empty. I feel like the week has drained every bit I have left to give, and I am toast. Dan doesn't get home until 7 pm, and I have the same response every week. I need a break. I have to get out of this house and breathe. Tonight was a gorgeous summer night with a cool breeze and a beautiful setting sun. I met my friend Sharon for coffee and we sat outside and watched the Hall of Fame hot air balloon show up on The Strip. I have a true love of hot air balloons for many reasons, and I was so thankful to see them tonight. I finally exhaled.

I listened to Sharon share about how she has been since our last meeting. We talked about being real, one of my soap boxes, and then she asked me the most interesting question. "When you think of Jesus what do you see?" I know if I think long enough I see many things, but my first thought is always Him on the cross and me a wretched sinner at the foot of the cross. He is dead. I put Him there. As we talked about this response I began to cry. I realized that I still so many times see myself as not good enough. I still fixate on Christ's death without the proper emphasis on His Resurrection. He died so I might LIVE in the fullness of His forgiveness and grace.

Sharon made a beautiful journal for me that she personalized with lots of words in a collage on the front. She also brought her own journal and shared the following quote with me that had spoken to her this week. I had to copy it as page one in my new journal.

"The forgiven life. The grace filled life. It begins with an embrace; which is more than an elegant word for hug. Hugs are short lived and friendly, handed out like after dinner mints to acquaintances and friends alike. "Here, have one." An embrace is more intentional. Longer, warmer and far more personal. Wherever you are spiritually. Whatever you have been through emotionally you are already wrapped in the Lord's embrace. Held closed by nail scarred hands. Enfolded in the arms of one who believes in you, supports you, treasures you and loves you. He is waiting for you to embrace Him in return. To accept the gift He's offering you. To listen for the whispered words you've longed for a lifetime to hear. You are loved. All is forgiven." -Liz Curtis Higgs

Thank You for holding me in Your embrace of forgiveness and acceptance and love tonight. Please transform my mind and heart to know and understand all that my Savior is to me so I may LIVE! Thank You for the gift of Sharon. Please give her a peace that passes understanding as she rests in Your infinite love for her tonight.

I'm Tired

2008-07-24T23:06:00.002-04:00

One of my favorite poets is the children's author Shel Silverstein and tonight I am reciting his poem in my head.

I've been working so hard you just wouldn't believe,
And I'm tired!
There's so little time and so much to achieve,
And I'm tired!
I've been lying here holding the grass in its place,
Pressing a leaf with the side of my face,
Tasting the apples to see if they're sweet,
Counting the toes on a centipede's feet.
I've been memorizing the shape of that cloud,
Warning the robins to not chirp so loud,
Shooing the butterflies off the tomatoes,
Keeping an eye out for floods and tornadoes.
I've been supervising the work of the ants
And thinking of pruning the cantaloupe plants,
Calling the fish to swim into my nets,
And I've taken twelve thousand and forty-one breaths,
And I'm TIRED!

Retail Therapy

2008-07-23T09:56:00.006-04:00

I know this will be hard to believe, but it has been over a year since I have been to a shopping mall. I have shopped only for necessities and only at Target or online. I have not gone to a place and just browsed for something to buy simply because I wanted it since March of 2007. On Saturday it was 80+ degrees when we got up. After a week of being chained to the house because of work, I needed to get out. So, Delaney and I decided to go to the mall to walk around in the cool while we pushed Danica in her stroller.

A weekend mall trip used to be part of our usual routine. I worked hard all week and would spend several hours on the weekend spending some of the money I had made. We didn't just go when we needed something. It was not uncommon for us to go pleasure shopping. A new outfit and toy or DVD for Delaney. A new Ann Taylor outfit for my work week or casual outfit from Anthropologie and a new tube of Lancome lipstick for me. Maybe a new pair of shoes to match. We would have lunch out and then maybe buy some new art stuff to do when we got home or go to Barnes and Noble for some new books. On the way home I would get a Starbucks latte', my 6th of the week.

As we entered the mall on Saturday I could feel the hairs on my neck stand up. The old Monica for just a moment showed her face and looked longingly into the stores. My daughter began to ask, "Can we get this? MOM, I NEED THIS." As we passed Ann Taylor Loft I said, "Let's go in here." They were having a great sale. Everything there looks just like my personal style. Oh how I would love a new outfit. It's been so long. But I couldn't bring myself to buy anything. I have clothes to wear. I don't go anywhere I need to reflect an image other than who I am with what I have right now.

The word "ENOUGH" resonated in my head over and over. As Delaney took the money she had saved to buy a new Webkinz. I could see the struggle in her own little head and heart. She wanted more. One suddenly wasn't enough even though that's what we came for. Because the void in my heart and hers will never be filled with things bought in a trip to the mall. Would two new stuffed animals make her happier? For me there is no more happiness found at Sephora and Nordstrom than at Target or Walmart. (I had a severe Sephora addiction. And yes, there is a difference between Stila and Cover Girl, and Stila might make my skin happier but not ME happier.) On our way out I passed Starbucks, and I didn't indulge. I mean I can make a cup of coffee at home, right?

I kept thinking about the change in me. Yes, it has been brought on by circumstances, but it is exactly what I was praying for in early 2007. I was pleading with God to rescue me from the company I was working for and show me how to serve Him, even if it meant making much less (or in His providence NOTHING.) I was praying that He would become ENOUGH. He answered swiftly and mightily. He took my job and health and taught me to depend on Him for EVERYTHING. The thing is, I found great pride in what I was able to do for my family and also for others. I found great peace in the security I thought we had through my work. God showed me every breath I take, every ability He has given me, every opportunity to work or earn is all through Him and by Him and for Him. He showed me the key to serving Him is being faithful with much or with little right where you are.

I felt an amazing peace when I returned home Saturday without bags of things I would cut tags off of and stuff in already full closets. God really is teaching me what everyday simple abundance is. I can say with Paul, "I have learned whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or want." Philippians 4:11-12

Thank You that all of You is more than enough for all of me. I am blessed beyond measure and rich in Your love! Thank You for the retail therapy found in not buying a thing!

Leaving Pieces

2008-07-19T15:26:00.004-04:00

The day he first told me he was starting to disappear I didn't believe him & so he stopped & held his hand up to the sun & it was like thin paper in the light & finally I said you seem very calm for a man who is disappearing & he said it was a relief after all those years of trying to keep the pieces of his life in one place. Later on, I went to see him again & as I was leaving, he put a package in my hand. This is the last piece of my life, he said, take good care of it & then he smiled & was gone & the room filled with the sound of the wind & when I opened the package there was nothing there & I thought there must be some mistake or maybe I dropped it & I got down on my hands & knees & looked until the light began to fade & then slowly I felt the pieces of my life fall away gently & suddenly I understood what he meant & I lay there for a long time crying & laughing at the same time.
-Brian Andreas, Story People

I have several people in my life who are deep in the trenches of caring for elderly parents. I listen to the stories filled with sadness about the pieces of each life slipping away. I watch and see real love in action. I see their daily sacrifice caring for a person who is no longer really there. In many ways they are just caring for the body because their loved one's mind and spirit have already gone.

One of my favorite movies is The Notebook. It is a beautiful love story about a man who refuses to let his wife who suffers from Alzheimers (and does not even remember he is her husband) be alone. Everyday he reads to her the story of her life from her old journals. He stays by her side into death. I have always wondered how it feels at the beginning--to know you are starting to "disappear" and the helplessness of not being able to stop it. I can only imagine the confusion and sadness as your memories slowly evaporate one by one. And then comes the day when you just don't want to try to keep all the pieces together anymore because you are just too tired and you give up for good.

What questions would we ask one another if we knew it was the last meaningful conversation we would have? What stories would we share? How many more times would we say "I'm sorry" and "I love you"? One of the reasons I write is to leave parts of me for my children and grandchildren. My husband, Dan, lost his mother when he was 13 and really feels likes he lost her years before that while she fought breast cancer. Over and over I hear him wish he had something tangible helping him know her and helping him know how she felt about him. He keeps a journal to our daughters so they will never have to wonder. I think about my own parents and living grandparents, all still with sharp minds. It makes me want to spend more time with them. It makes me want to gather the pieces of these special people so they won't disappear from my life even when God takes their minds or calls them home.

Thank you for my mind and ability to remember Your goodness to me through recalling my own life story. Keep me faithful in recording the pieces of my life so future generations will know YOU!

Would you Change?

2008-07-19T14:09:00.007-04:00

I have LOVED Tracy Chapman since I was in college. The song Change has been playing on my ipod recently and making me think a lot about how grateful I am for seeing the "face of God and love" over the past year and all the change it has brought about it my life.

If you knew that you would die today, Saw the face of God and love, Would you change? Would you change? If you knew that love can break your heart When you're down so low you cannot fall Would you change? Would you change? How bad, how good does it need to get? How many losses? How much regret? What chain reaction would cause an effect? Makes you turn around, Makes you try to explain, Makes you forgive and forget, Makes you change? Makes you change? If you knew that you would be alone, Knowing right, being wrong, Would you change? Would you change? If you knew that you would find a truth That brings up pain that can't be soothed Would you change? Would you change? How bad, how good does it need to get? How many losses? How much regret? What chain reaction would cause an effect? Makes you turn around, Makes you try to explain, Makes you forgive and forget, Makes you change? Makes you change? Are you so upright you can't be bent? If it comes to blows are you so sure you won't be crawling? If not for the good, why risk falling? Why risk falling? If everything you think you know, Makes your life unbearable, Would you change? Would you change? If you'd broken every rule and vow, And hard times come to bring you down, Would you change? Would you change? If you knew that you would die today, If you saw the face of God and love, Would you change? Would you change? Would you change? Would you change? If you saw the face of God and love If you saw the face of God and love Would you change? Would you change?

Almost every stanza of this song deserves a blog entry and touches me in some way. Maybe I will break it down and write more later, but for now I just want the words to soak in.

With all my being I thank You for the change you are making in my heart and life, renewing my mind and making me more like You. Thank You for the courage to face the past and forgive and forget. Thank You for the truth, even the painful kind that can only be soothed by You, that sets me free. "I have heard of You by hearing of the ear, But now my eye sees You." (Job 42:5)

Beauty for Ashes

2008-07-17T21:17:00.008-04:00

“To all who mourn in Israel, He will give beauty for ashes, joy instead of mourning, praise instead of despair. For the LORD has planted them like strong and graceful oaks for His own glory.” Isaiah 61:3

Since I was a little girl I have loved oak trees. I grew up in a simple brick 3 bedroom ranch on Hoover St. in Staunton, VA. Anchoring our front yard was a big sturdy oak tree that sheltered years of my childhood. Almost everywhere I have lived I have formed a relationship with a tree, usually an oak. When Dan and I were buying new construction homes there were only little stick trees in our yards, part of landscape package A or B, and I secretly felt like they weren't real homes. I needed a mature tree. I needed a tree that had seen lives come and go, weathered season after season and kept growing gracefully.

One of the many blessings of our new home is the two giant oak trees on either side of our front yard. Today the girls and I had a picnic under one of them. After eating our lunch we read books and looked up into the leafy roof. I said a prayer of thanks for this tree, a reminder of the tree my Savior hung on to pay the price for all my sin. A reminder of the tree my God likened me to in Isaiah, strong and graceful for His glory. At the foot of the cross I stand truly amazed at how my Father has time and time again given me beauty, joy and praise instead of the sinful ashes of despair and mourning He found me in. Thank You!

Morning Glory

2008-07-15T08:36:00.003-04:00

Then you shall call, and the Lord will answer; You shall cry, and He will say, "Here I am."
Isaiah 58:9

Thank You for your answer to many prayers and providing a way for my pay to be deposited this morning in our account. Thank You for showing Yourself continually in big and small ways.

The Sound of Noise of Rain

2008-07-14T21:17:00.003-04:00

If I cannot catch "the sound of noise of rain"* long before the rain falls, and, going to some hilltop of the spirit, as near to my God as I can, have not faith to wait there with my face between my knees, though six times or sixty times I am told "there is nothing," till at last "there arises a little coud out of the sea," then I know nothing of Calvary love.
-Amy Carmichael from If, What do I know of Calvary Love?

*I Kings 18:41

Encouragement

2008-07-13T22:04:00.003-04:00

I received this email from my sister tonight, and it sent me straight to my Bible to read the story of the widow and Elijah.

Dear Mon--I know that our God is an all knowing, all powerful, sovereign, Heavenly Father, but after I talked to you this evening I was just praying and asking God, "Why Lord? Why again? Why them again? Enough already!" When you hurt, I hurt. I just didn't see what good could could possibly come from this. Then as I put Avery to bed and was reading to him from Leading Little Ones to God, the chapter we read tonight was on faith and the widow woman. She was preparing to use her last little bit of flour and oil, during a time of famine, to make a last meal for her and her son. How frightened she must have been to know, "This is it!" I have nothing left to feed myself, but more importantly my child. I wonder what was going through her mind! AND THEN, God sent Elijah, to ask her to give of what little bit she had left to him. How could God ask more of her? How unfair for Him to expect this? No one would have blamed her if she had said, "I'm sorry, but this is all I have!" God tested her to the limit! After I read this, and I thought about your family and the past year. God has definitely seemed to test you to the limit! But in the story of the widow, she gave and had faith in spite of her circumstances, and the flour and oil never ran out. She got her miracle! It doesn't say she ever had a lot or was wealthy because of her faithfulness, but she always had enough to meet their needs! I hope this will encourage you tonight! It challenged me to trust God not only for myself, but for those I love as well. I love you and hold you up before Him tonight! Hope you feel better. Because of Him, Rochelle

Thank you for my sister, Rochelle, tonight and her words of encouragement pointing me to Your faithfulness.

Before Danica Jean

2008-07-13T18:59:00.001-04:00

Before you were conceived I wanted you
Before you were born I loved you
Before you were here an hour I would die for you
This is the miracle of life.
-Maureen Hawkins

God Will Make a Way

2008-07-13T12:58:00.003-04:00

My sister Rochelle brought me a little wooden sign with the above statement on it while I was in the hospital. Every morning I woke to read that sign on my nightstand. Some days I believed. Other days I could not find my way through my own pain and doubt to really KNOW there was going to be deliverance.

During our most recent trial of losing our home I received an email from a lady from our church. This is what she wrote: "A word of encouragement to you - do not allow yourself to be discouraged. This really is a choice of yours, you can choose to trust our Lord to bring you the answer that He already knows or you can choose to not trust Him and be discouraged. We really don' t have to give in to our emotions - we should be directing them instead of them directing us. When it comes right down to it, anxiety, worry and discouragement don't change reality. Now be encouraged that if Christ is your Savior - you are His child and He has promised that everything will work for your good and His glory. He is not abandoning you, He is no less with you now that He was with you before you received this news. Instead of choosing to worry - choose to praise Him with a heart of gratitude. When you are discouraged, because you probably will be - we are human and our old nature still affects us, lift up your concerns to Him with thanksgiving and He will be quick to restore the peace in your mind and heart that will allow you to do the "next thing". In His perfect timing He will bring you to the answer. Try to remember that the answer is already established - it is just that YOU don't know what it is yet. Work to praise our Lord now, when the answer is not yet disclosed to you, with the same heart and passion that you will praise Him with when the answer is known to you. He is no less powerful and loving when there are unknowns in your life." What really stuck out to me in her words was the reminder that God already had the answer. The light at the end of the tunnel was always there.

Today I received an email from our CFO that I would not receive my paycheck on Tuesday as I normally would because she did payroll a day early and did not receive my time sheet in time. I was at first angry. I mean, it's a VERY small company. Didn't she realize mine was missing and couldn't she have sent me an email? We live paycheck to paycheck. I am counting diapers and scoops of formula until Tuesday morning when I will run to the store to get groceries. Bills are already mailed. I raised my heart to my God and asked Him, "What are you doing?" I only indulged for a few short moments before He quieted my heart, "Be still, my child, I will make a way!" I brushed my tears away. Bills have gone unpaid. Creditors have called. Checks have bounced. There is no shame in the place that God has brought us. I am trusting in God's faithfulness. He has already provided an answer.

What a blessing to be so humbled. What a gift to go from six figures and financial "freedom" to this day to day dependence on my Yahewh-jireh, my Provider. I imagine Him smiling as He sees Satan being defeated this morning. My day will not be wasted in worry. I will trust and obey.

Thank you, God, for helping me to grow in faith when it comes to Your provision. Thank you for always making a way!

Remember the Sabbath Day

2008-07-13T08:52:00.004-04:00

Yesterday I woke up with a headache--not your garden variety kind but a big ugly migraine. When I was first diagnosed with fibromyalgia in 2001 I suffered endlessly from these, and I can honestly tell you that not a day goes by without one that I don't give praise for feeling well. Dan was working, and as I put Danica down for her morning nap I shifted my gears to begin to race through all I do during that hour--unload the dishwasher, make the beds, take a shower, move the laundry, etc. I went into our room to make our bed, and I looked at the pillows and covers and thought, "When was the last time I got BACK into bed?" I can't remember, so I know it's been months, maybe even since Danica was born. I crawled into the cool sheets and rested my aching head.

The day proved that I really was ill. My headache became worse, I felt dizzy and nauseous. I could really only accomplish the necessary care for the girls. I began to be so sick to my stomach that I had to run back and forth to the bathroom. I guess I may have a virus but my first thought is that my body is doing what it always does when I have pushed it too hard for too long and when I have mixed the over activity with stress. My body is telling me, "Remember the Sabbath day!"

Growing up I have the most peaceful memories of Sundays in our home. The morning began with a special breakfast, usually coffee cake or homemade cinnamon rolls, then we would get ready for church listening to soft hymns. My sisters and I would sing and play the piano as we waited for everyone to be ready. After church we would return home to have a big Sunday dinner, most of which was planned and prepared the night before. The most blessed part of these days was the quietness that overcame our home as we all retired to our rooms to take naps or read or write. The house was still. There was no TV, no computer, no planned activities. We remembered the Sabbath.

I have been reading the book Breathe, Creating Space for God in a Hectic Life, and in the chapter titled Rested Keri Kent writes,

"The Bible commands us to rest. This is, when you think about it, amazing. What a generous and kind God we have. We expect marching orders, or hoops to jump through. But God simply says, "Alright, this will be challenging, but here's what I want you to do; take a break." That should be a no-brainer, right? So it's downright incredible that we so flagrantly disobey him on this.

As I've said, simplicity is all about having a "single eye," which means living with our primary focus on Christ. Keeping Sabbath is a great practice to help us maintain our focus. In the Jewish tradition, the Sabbath is the focus of the week, with three days to prepare for Sabbath, then following it, three days to reflect. This creates a rhythm of life that puts our focus not on our stuff or our schedule but on the opportunity to meet with God. . . The Bible's rationale for the Sabbath is simple; we, God's image-bearers, function best by following God's example, particularly in how we manage our time. Resting on Sundays reminds us of the miracle of creation and the gift God gave himself and his creatures. It reminds us of how to dance the dance of life."

I have been so guilty lately of using all seven days to get through my to do list. I often dread Sunday evenings because I spend several hours working on my lists due the next day. I may take an hour or two, but I certainly have not disciplined myself or my family to make a day of rest and guard it zealously. And so yesterday my body threw up a red flag for my soul and called to me, "REST."

Thank you for your command to remember the Sabbath day. Please give me the grace and strength to obey Your gracious and all wise request that I rest and reflect on a regular and continual basis.

I saw God in a pot of marigolds

2008-07-10T22:58:00.005-04:00

I have had a plant stand and two empty pots on my new front porch since we moved in. Every day I have looked longingly at them wanting to go to the greenhouse and fill them with flowers. We moved after the spring planting season, and I have resigned myself to no real gardening this year, but I just wanted a few pots.

This morning I was blessed by a visit to our home from three ladies from our church. Sue, our church secretary, had called early this week to see if they could stop by. I am not used to "visitation" of this kind from people I don't know well, so I was a little anxious. As they walked up the sidewalk I could see their arms full of gifts. They brought pastries and fresh fruit, two devotional books for me, some special lotion and body spray and yes, a big pot of marigolds mixed with perennials and a little birdhouse.

What prompts this kind of love? Why did these very busy ladies take their morning and come to my home? We make so many excuses these days for why we don't have time for people anymore. We explain the lack of outreach to others as a result of our society and the pressures that come from it's hurried pace. The truth is our frenzy to acquire more and do more creates a painful isolation and is not at all what God planned for us. His heart's desire is for us to love and care for one another.

I have been hearing God's call to simplify my life for many reasons, but today I saw His face in the beautiful pot of marigolds and the shining faces of three sisters, and He spoke to me again. Take time. Make time. Be God's hands wherever you are. Keep refining what really matters. You will be richly blessed.

Thank you for the gift of these ladies and their visit today. In as much as they did it unto me they did it unto You! Thank you for my pot of marigolds, a new place I can daily see Your face and revel in Your favor.

Know

2008-07-09T23:33:00.005-04:00

In his book Emblems of the Holy Spirit, F.E. Marsh shares the following thoughts:

“In every life There’s a pause that is better than onward rush, Better than hewing, or mightiest doing; ‘Tis the standing still at sovereign will. There’s a hush that is better than ardent speech, Better than sighing, or wilderness crying; ‘Tis the being still at sovereign will. The pause and the hush sing a double song In unison low, and for all time long. O, human soul. God’s working plan goes on, nor needs the aid of man, Stand still, and see, Be still, and know.”

Before I head up to bed I sit here joyfully praying for a friend who just emailed me. She has been in the darkest of places, and I have been blessed to see the tiny rays of light peak through her clouds. I see her finding the joy and peace that comes from REALLY KNOWING God loves her. I see her going to the same still place I meet my Savior and finding REST.

Thank you, God, for capturing this dear one with Your amazing grace and never letting go. Make her a trophy for You.

An Open Map

2008-07-08T20:16:00.004-04:00

"To know the will of God, we need an open Bible and an open map."
-- William Carey, pioneer missionary to India

Thank you for my dear parents tonight and their shining example of "Jesus in skin" as they share the Gospel with children in Mexico this week. Please give me opportunity to share Your love with others and answer Your clear call to service in my heart and life.

Summer Gifts

2008-07-08T12:14:00.022-04:00

50. Sidewalk chalk and the masterpieces it creates.
51. Family game time, our new favorite is Yahtzee!
52. The farmer's market and the yummy treasures we find there.
53. Playing on Grandma's new carpet.
54. Cousin fun with Eliana at Pump it Up!
55. Garden gates and the beautiful places they lead us.
56. My niece Mia and her big running hug to greet me after being apart too long.
57. Ferris wheels.
58. Shrimp on the barbie.

59. Sparklers, pop-its and 4th of July fireworks, summer rites of passage.
60. Banana splits and living so close to Milk and Honey we can walk.
61. Carnival rides and a daddy willing to get really sick so the kids can enjoy.
62. Playing with a puppy named Brady.
63. A bunny living in our new backyard because God knew we would miss the chippies and bunnies at our old house.
64. Sink baths.

What a Man

2008-07-07T07:34:00.010-04:00

I was up very late last night working, long after the rest of the family went to bed, and as I slipped into bed after midnight Dan rolled over to pat my back as if to say, "Thank you for your work and sacrifice. I know it's hard sometimes." In the middle of the night Delaney came in and tapped my arm. She had decided she wanted to make a pallet on the floor next to our bed, and I reluctantly got up to help her get situated. I looked at the clock, and it was 3:15 am. I told myself I could still get 4 hours of sleep if I was lucky.

Imagine my groan when Danica woke too early today. I heard her cry out at 5:45 am. She rarely cries, so I jumped into action to get her. Dan is off on Mondays, and even though I never really have a day "off" I would never expect him to get up so early when he could catch some extra sleep. I scooped up my baby and heard her growing tummy grumble. We headed downstairs to make a bottle. A few moments later I heard footsteps behind me and there is my dear husband. I tell him it's too early and to head back to bed. There's no reason for us both to be up. He says to me, "Sugar, Booger, I just want to see if you need any help." As I sit down to feed the baby Dan makes me my coffee and then settles in on the couch to just be there with us.

I have known for some time that Dan is special. The ease in our home surrounding the sharing of household chores, care of the children, sleep and alone time is very rare in young families. This morning I was reminded again how blessed I am to have this man as my husband and the father of my girls.

Thank you for the gift of my Dan and the love and care he showed me this morning.