only here, only now

marriage letters—i know/knew you love/d me when. . .

2012-02-27T13:10:00.000-05:00

dear interesting, amazing, You,

how to start chronicling what seems like a lifetime of witnesses of your love for me?
for the record, i have so thoroughly loved writing these letters to you. not because you are faultless and this gives me the opportunity to proclaim that to the world at large. . . but because there are so many ways the world tears us down in our imperfections and what we hold to be so valuable between us. and these, letters of praise and honor for the things that are so very good between us. . . they are what build up what threatens to crumble, affirm what drew us together in the beginning, what give me hope that we are what God intended when He brought us into relationship called covenant.

i have been thinking hard this day. and i honestly have no idea when i first knew you loved me.
it certainly wasn’t when you tried ~~to kill me~~ to physically outdo me by taking me caving on our second date. what were you thinking?
i’m pretty sure it wasn’t after all those times ending up a sweaty mess trying to keep up with you on the racquetball court. didn’t you know that wasn’t nice?
and since you wrangled me into asking you to get married. . . well, i can’t even say it was then :-)

i do know we knew so little of what love asked. what it required. what it would pull from us even when we didn’t want to give.

but the countless times throughout our marriage, the countless times i have known you loved me:
the times you have chosen to stand and find words, instead of walk away. for you know how silence speaks to me a thousand words harsher than any lack in your spoken vocabulary.
the times you have taken one look at my bewildered face, tears pooling in my eyes, and simply held me. held me in my anger, in my frustration, in my hurt. offered me the comfort of your arms, your strength, your heat.
the times you have chosen to give in to my needs rather than roughly enforce yours. with gentleness. tenderness. a desire to see me whole, happy, and nurtured.
the times you have laid your heart out bare, even though your heart pounded and you hated to take a chance on disappointing. for love, you took the dare with courage.
in all those times i have known your love. its endurance. its grit. its determination. and in the fight, i have found my own. thank you for the gift.

i pray that as my heart has felt your touch, yours has felt the imprint of mine.
that together, our love has built a knowing. one that helps us face the day just a bit stronger for the wind that blows sure and steady beneath our wings.

i love you. always, ever,
me

sharing in the marriage series at Amber's
and the communities at Jen's and Shanda's

2012-02-25T07:35:00.000-05:00

for your encouragement this weekend, in whatever you may be doing.

love this!

the nitty grit(ty)

2012-02-24T06:37:00.001-05:00

wahoo, it's beautiful friday!

okay, so maybe there's a little rain and snow

in the forcast, but we'll not let that get us down, right?

five-minute friday: where we write for five minutes

straight without tweaking or editing of any sort.

quite the fun exercise that everyone should try!

this week's prompt: GRIT.

have a fantastic weekend!

well, here i am, less than nine hours from leaving for the weekend on our church’s retreat for women.
with my two oldest daughters.
and there’s still a lot to get done.
a lot i’ve left until the last minute.

and i remember earlier in the week thinking to myself that this time would be different. that i would actually prepare a little bit ahead. maybe even be fully packed the night before (gasp!).

but, alas, here i am, and the details await.
the nitty gritty.

i shouldn’t be surprised.
it’s like a well-worn, dog-eared novel in my life by now. one i’d like to blame on any number of factors:
i don’t have enough clothes to pack that far ahead.
why stress myself that early in the week.
i do it all much faster if i wait until i’m under pressure.
i LOVE the adrenaline rush.

yeah, right.

the problem with all of those is that the nitty gritty overflows into all areas of my life.
and it tends to steal my joy.
i know. that’s my choice.
and believe me, i’m not going down for the final count quite yet.

so here i sit.
looking toward the day ahead.
i’ve allowed myself five minutes to punch this out,
and another five to get it posted.

then. . .
i choose joy.
joy in what is promising to be a very busy day with the kids.
with therapies and schooling.
the nitty gritty of life.

but i will choose to lift up the nitty as an offering of worship,
and kill the gritty as a sacrifice unto Him of praise.

and when it’s all said and done. . .

our destination awaits.
i am filled with hope at the prospect.
the nitty gritty—defeated.
oh, yeah :-)

of poison and snakes

2012-02-22T16:29:00.000-05:00

*this is for all the blog readers who hate blog writers who “dress it up”, only share the best, and never show a wrinkle or pimple of their daily lives. may it never be so here :-)

i hate days like this.

my husband’s rising woke me at 4:30 and with it came pain slamming in, around, and through my head.
it was all i could do to shuffle out to shove down a handful of meds before fixing my morning elixir of coffee.

then i attempted to do my read-through-the-Bible-in-a-year reading, which has me in Job right now. . . and i can’t say i gave one whit about anything that Job was lamenting about. i even had a fleeting thought that it didn’t sound all that horrible. (i know, my bad)

and yes, this IS the day that the Lord has made, and i’m trying so hard to rejoice in it, but the truth is that more poison seems to escape than praise. like snake venom, and i am the viper, ready to bite anyone who comes too close.
can you hear the hiss?

i really hate days like this.
days that seem to clutch me in a grip too tight to free myself from.

yesterday i told her to find her happier heart, or she’d need to spend some time thinking on it.
and today i’m wondering if i need some time to sit in my room. my own time-out.
i was recently told that the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. . .

today another her adds a suffix to change “poison” to “poisonous” and i feel like she’s pegged me sure—for whenever i open my mouth that is what it feels like, all acid and acrid oozing out.

and he, working on comprehension exercises designed to be silly, accidentally answers “yes” to the one stating, “do your parents hold you in a state of captivity?”
and he tell me it means “caged, unable to get out. . .”
there we both sit, captive by each other and by forces i can recognize, but not even begin to understand.

only seeing and feeling their ugliness.

and this day, the beginning of Lent, and i not even having grown up with an understanding of it. my first introduction—a college friend who would pick a favorite food to give up, and very little exposure since other than Catholic colleagues who would give up their beer or smoking. . .only to take it back up when it was all over.

and do i even know how to “give up?”
i believe that’s why i hate days like this.

hope held.
hope released.
it is a dance that i am well familiar with, the steps ever-changing in their pace and rhythm.
some days the cadence flows smooth. and some days it grates harsh.

i sit and listen to the piano and i understand a bit of Saul’s predicament and how a restless soul was soothed. ah, the soothing.
and i am able to somehow draw long and hard.

enough to whisper, “can You?”
“please?”
“just a breath. a whisper. . . for that’s all it will take.”
“cover me. wash me. soothe me, O dear God.”

and in the desperate.
in the sure knowing.
i wait.

sharing as a part of Winsome Wednesday, Life: Unmasked,
and with those in the community at Painting Prose

marriage letters—my job, your job

2012-02-20T13:27:00.000-05:00

dear you,

i still remember the early days, maybe five years into our marriage. our first little one, all blonde hair and rosy cheeks and sunshine pouring from her face.
she loved to help you “arm” yourself before heading out for your evening shift. she’d grab the velcro straps of your bullet-proof vest and smack ‘em against your chest with a giggle and grin. and then tumble over on the bed.
and i’d ache with the bitter sweetness of love’s adoration falling upon you before you headed out to fight the world’s battles.

and here we are so many years later, you now workin' the days, those littles growing into biggers, and instead of the vest it is my prayers that surround you as you strap your gun to your side each day and head out to face your giants.
and man, i still love looking at you in your "uniform." but i digress. . .
and you call it nothing.
identify yourself mostly with barney miller.

but i know there are things you can’t talk about.
things you’ve seen that you’ll never describe to me.
stories you’ve lived that you’ll never forget. and wish to.

and yet.
even more so over the years, you continue to walk through my door each day with an intent to give. to ask me first about my day. to care about what it’s been like with our schooling. with our talking. with our living.
and a kiss and “i love you” right smack in front of the kids.

it’s the first thing you do when you see me and the last thing you leave me with upon walking out the door.

your kind have been known to get a bad rap. but for every bad seed there are even more that go home every night and choose to be faithful. choose to love. choose to live well.
you’re one of them. always have been. and i so love you for that.

if i had one word of encouragement, one word of hope—for all those whose days are consumed by diapers and feedings and questions and exhaustion, it would be this:
acknowledge the daily times.
remember whom you started the race with.
don’t forget that the little things count.
be quick to extend grace.

i’m so glad for the daily mercies. for one more day. just one more day to live and laugh and love.
the threat of life’s end has the potential to drive one crazy over the years.
but i'm convinced crazy is okay when it’s spent with you :-)

love always, ever,
me

sharing as a part of the marriage series over at Amber's
sharing with the community at Jen's
and with Shanda

she brings me delight

2012-02-17T07:31:00.001-05:00

yeah, well, we don't do pics around
here, so this is the best i can give you.

she brings me great delight, this girl-turning-young-woman who is thirteen years old today.

her day of birth was fast and furious, as i barely made it to the hospital before she torpedoed herself into this world. the grabbing of a doctor next door, no “hellos” or “how-do-you-dos”. . . and we were crying and laughing and saying, “welcome, dear second daughter, you.”

pure. delight.

and in the last year, especially, it has been a privilege to watch her grow. to bloom. to begin making that transition from gangly arms and legs to willowy womanhood.

her heart and mind all following right in step with the physical changes.

she’s been hiding the Word in her heart. and making it her own delight. finding Jesus as He walks along beside her.

who could have told me it would be such a delight to parent this beautiful young woman?
who could have told me that the teenage years would bring more joy and delight, than angst and frustration?
yeah, i know it's early in the game. . . but i'm choosing to speak blessings and joy and anticipation of what is to come. speaking it into her very being, and preparing for whatever may lie ahead.

she’s been dubbed “sparky” in this here family.

and it’s true.

she sparks my every day. sparks a delight in me that i will treasure today. and tomorrow. like a long drink of water that quenches the greatest thirst.

now and forevermore.

happy birthday, sweet girl.

it's friday! and we're celebrating a pretty big birthday around here.

today's prompt for five-minute friday: DELIGHT.

it wasn't too much of a stretch to see where my thoughts

were headed with that one.

hope you have a delightful weekend. we'll be playing

hard and whooping it up around here :-)

he offers love

2012-02-15T12:46:00.002-05:00

he offers his love
invites me to the table to feast.
but this, my fickle heart,
feels only anger.

he is constant, ever faithful,
inviting me to share in his love, ever offered.
my heart. stone,
oh, how you betray me.

he pursues, delights
looks on me with an everlasting love.
yesterday i was giddy with love’s thrill.
today. i am weary.

how does he look on me
day after day
with adoration
when all i offer in return is spite?

i feel trapped
in a body consumed by its limitations.
and a heart and mind
all-wavering, too often controlled by their emotions.

but this truth i know.
oh, the struggle to bring it to the front!
that a day only lasts so many hours
and a tomorrow begins anew.

and though my heart and body may fail
my mind can restate the truth
over and over again
in the face of anger, of pain, of weariness. . . .

he loves me, he loves me, he loves me.
and i am safe within his arms.
his arms that hold. his arms that soothe. his arms that hide me away.
he is my rock .

tuesday's child--this is NOT a restaurant

2012-02-14T06:14:00.000-05:00

we were waiting to pick up two of my girls, my oldest daughter and i.
and when i looked over, i saw the young boy sit at the table where my son sat reading.
and i smiled, for this boy just exudes energy and i am always amazed that his mother always has a smile on her face. for she surely must be worn out some (most) days.

i could tell the boy was talking up a storm to my son, who had a slightly dazed and confused look on his face, and my amusement continued to grow.
as often happens, i am thrilled when he is naturally put in situations that challenge him a bit. that he doesn’t know what to do with. that he really has to think about what he’s going to say.

for all too often his dyslexia gets the best of him and he begins to speak before he really thinks about it. and it can sometimes catch people off guard. or they don’t know how to respond. or don’t understand what in the world he means. but they love him, love his smile, and take it all in with the grace that would be expected.

now it was my son’s turn to extend that same grace, and i’m not sure he was quite sure how to do that.

this other young boy is autistic. and his mind races in a million directions, and whatever happens to make it out of his mouth in a given moment is what you are privileged to hear.

but you have to be quick.

and i could tell my son was having a bit of trouble with this!

so i moved in that direction to give him a little help. acknowledged the boy, made sure he knew that i knew who he was (for his sister is a friend of my daughter). and he oriented to that fact for a split second, then we moved on to the fact that those tables made the church foyer look like a restaurant, but there wasn’t anyone there serving food, so it couldn’t be a restaurant, and did my boy like restaurants and what was his favorite food and did you know that this foyer looks like a restaurant and the table actually looks like a toadstool. or maybe toadette (mario kart for all of you non-Wii players). it was a fast and furious monologue, and he was grinning his beautiful smile all the way through.

and finally my son gets the gist of it all and actually finds his voice and realizes. . . this is just another boy. his age. and while it may not be the typical conversation he would have with one of his other friends, there is nothing weird or strange about him. he’s just sharing his world with us.

right where he is.

and our response to him? meet him right there.

and i looked at these two boys, very different, yet in many ways much the same. each with their own unique struggles. and i glimpsed the mom in line waiting for her daughter, talking with friends, at ease with what her son was doing.

knowing he was safe.

safe talking with us. safe being with us. being himself with us.

what about you? do you cringe when someone outside your comfort zone steps into your world and makes you a bit uncomfortable? ever notice a mom of one of those “someones”, so desperately in need of encouragement?

i know it can be uncomfortable. i know it can be extremely hard.

for the sake of another, learn how to be a safe spot for someone near you today.

image credit

marriage letters—on patience

2012-02-13T14:03:00.001-05:00

*joining with others over at Amber's who are writing letters each week to their spouse. on the topic of marriage. this week's topic: PATIENCE. sigh. 'nuff said. happy valentine's day, sweetheart.

dear you,

it seems appropriate that on this valentine’s day eve i write this post, dedicated to you. . . dedicated to US, really, in celebration, in thanks, in deepest gratitude for what God has brought together.

we’re coming up on seventeen years of hard-fought-for marital bliss. okay, maybe not bliss (as that seems to conjure up thoughts of perfection), but incredible satisfaction and joy and deep longings met. as well as some pretty messy stuff. but that's what makes the other stuff all the more blessed. more awe-inspiring, truly.

and i can say without hesitation that you are the closest thing to God-patience that i have ever met in personified form.

hands down.

you said you needed a nurse. or an accountant. you either needed your health or your money in good hands. well, you got your nurse.

but what you didn’t count on, i suppose, was how much i needed a protector. your understanding. your patience.

that as time and age would change us. . . who we are as people, as spouses, as parents. . . i would need every ounce of patience you could muster up.

and then some.

that long-suffering would become a way of life.

that gentleness would become your m.o.

that God, Himself, would have to instill you with strength beyond anything you’d ever imagined just to get through the day. just to get through a day with me.

patience.

personified.

your every touch. your every word. the way you hold me in the tough times. the way you reassure me that no matter what. no matter where. no matter how the world looks.

you’ll always be right by my side.

i have fought to make you more like me at times.
i thank God you have not given in.
i have tried to convince you of my (wrong) opinion on occasion.
i thank God you have not wavered.
i have wondered what it would be like if we were more alike.
i thank God He spared us that nightmare :-)

thank you, dear heart. for loving me. year after year. unwaveringly. with constancy. with desire. with a love that goes beyond reason. with an enduring patience that i can only hope to half match in this lifetime.

this sara groves song has been ringing through my head this week:
“with every burden i have carried
with every joy it’s understood
life with you is half as hard
and twice as good.”

love you. always.
ever,
me

also sharing with the community at jen's place

trust and obey—a five minute friday post

2012-02-10T06:23:00.000-05:00

wahoo, it's friday! here are the

rules: write for five minutes flat, no editing

tweaking, or anything else. then hit "publish."

read some other great writes, leave some

encouragement along the way. . .

and that's what i love about friday!

hope you all have a great weekend!

this week's prompt: TRUST

i grew up singing hymns. hymns, alone.
i wasn’t introduced to worship music until i was in college.

so when i saw this prompt of “trust” this morning, the tune of old started running through my mind:
“trust and obey,
for there’s no other way
to be happy in Jesus. . .
but to trust and obey.”

trust.

and obey.

don’t say “i trust.”
then continue to wring your hands with worry.
don’t say “i trust.”
then continue to snap at everyone because of your fears.
don’t say “i trust.”
then make yourself sick from the wonder of how it will all work out.
don’t say “i trust.”
then fixate on what you lack.

trust.

and obey.

“come to Me,
all who labor and are heavy laden,
and I will give you rest.” (Matthew 11:28)

trust.

and obey.

i will say, “i trust.”
and hand my burden over to Him.
i will say, “i trust.”
and believe that He is able to do all things.
i will say, “i trust.”
and act in confidence, rather than fear.
i will say, “i trust.”
and obey where He tells me to walk.

trust and obey,
for there is truly no other way
to be happy with my sweet, gracious, amazing, & loving Savior Jesus. . .
but to trust and obey.

amen.

and in that. . . i will instead

2012-02-09T05:40:00.000-05:00

and in that which makes me want to draw knees to chest, head buried under arms. . .
i will instead reach and stretch for the arms of the Almighty.

and in that which makes my legs weary, muscles sore for the straining, wanting so much to sit in failure. . .
i will instead stand firm on the solid Rock and claim victory.

and in that which makes we want to weep a thousand tears, streaking rivers down my face to puddle on the floor. . .
i will instead let His hand capture my chin so He can store them up in a bottle.

and in that which makes me want to close my heart tight, away, safe & secure from hurt. . .
i will instead let His healing touch free it open. always open.

and in that which makes me long for heaven, long for Jesus, long for what i was made to be. . .
i will instead give praise for this very day. only here. only now. for that is all i have.

and in it all i will anticipate forever.
for it awaits.

give a little—bless a lot

2012-02-08T06:54:00.000-05:00

this fall will mark the ninth year since we brought our son home from his russian birthplace.
and i am aware of how the time passes so very quickly. and of all the changes that have occurred in his lifetime.
and though the busyness of caring for four kiddos often consumes my days, there is a passion that runs deep and sure for the orphans that still remain. . . orphans.
we knew it then, and we continue to hear it now—this hopelessness that follows the kids left within the system until they age out. the rates of homelessness. the rates of delinquency. the rates of suicide.

for how can one learn to live productively when one has never truly lived.

and many adoption agencies have put in-country programs in place for that reason, alone. to aid these children in learning life skills. learning what they will encounter upon leaving the orphanage. helping them understand their purpose for being in this world and their responsibility toward it. and toward others.

to help them know God. and that they are loved deeply by Him.

but for those more fortunate. . . they just might find a way out. a way to a loving family. a rescue. a hope. where they get to enjoy the meaning of “family” on a daily basis and all the privileges and blessings that entails.

but it’s a long road, this adoption thing. and it can be hard. and lonely. and totally misunderstood.
not to mention expensive.

and while some may disagree, the Bible is quite clear that we are called to aid the orphan. in some manner or another.
so is it really a stretch to think that helping someone fund their adoption is one way to fulfill this Biblical mandate?
could we wrap our mind around the fact that people aren’t just asking for money for “something they shouldn’t do if they can’t afford it?”

no. they’re asking you to enter in. to be blessed beyond measure as you see God multiply whatever you might be able to give. to join in the absolutely pure joy of watching a kid’s life be forever changed. to forever have these kids on your heart. . . to be prayed for and over. to be reminded that their parents need encouragement. to be an influence in their life.

you just don’t know how God will use the giving to change YOUR very life.

so let me introduce you to Spring, whom i met during the 31-day challenge last october. she wasn’t writing about adoption, but i found out then that her family is in the process of adopting from haiti.

and now they’re embarking on a project to raise some funds. by way of a project that includes a bit of money toward their adoption, and a bit of money back to haiti. her family is selling these bracelets:

and each one comes with a personalized message from the maker of the bracelet. pretty cool, eh?

go HERE for more information, and HERE for even a bit more information. a link to the project that sponsors this is on her site if you want to check it out. she’ll thank you for stopping by :-)

“Religion that is pure and undefiled before God, the Father, is this:

to care for orphans and widows in their distress,

and to keep oneself unstained by the world.”

James 1:27

tuesday’s child—letters to the unloved

2012-02-07T05:19:00.001-05:00

well, i’m interrupting what i had originally scheduled for my tuesday’s child posting this week, because i just had to share a particular resource that just came out.

and it ties in perfectly with this space and one reason i feel led to share regarding special needs.
the moms.
for in my experience, and in talking with other moms, there are two common reactions that i see quite frequently:
either the mom chooses simply to never “go there” in thinking about the struggles, the disappointments, the challenges, the fears. . . because if she does she simply cannot deal with the implications.
or the mom internalizes everything regarding the special needs child, wondering if she is doing enough, if there is more she could do, if she loves her child enough, why life just doesn’t seem to work right. . . and why God doesn’t love her enough to respond to her cries for help.

moms of “regular” kids might feel either of these ways at any given time, but i think the mom of a kid that’s been “labeled” in some way or other gets an extra dose of the mom-guilt, the unlovability, the feeling of drowning with absolutely no way of escape in sight.

so enter in amy sullivan and a long list of good friends. with a burden to shower love on the unloved.
they’ve written letters to these “unloved” ones, in the form of encouragement, passing hope along to fellow sojourners on these paths that can be oh-so-tricky to navigate at times.

and guess who’s on that list?

yep. moms of kids who wear labels. and i’m not referring to the designer type.

so grab a cup of your favorite hot drink, prepare to be encouraged, and go ahead. open it up. i promise you’ll enjoy the bit of love shared by these ladies.

(and i have to add that another group included is those with adopted children. now you're thinking i really lucked out, aren't you? well, i'm thinking that, too!)

Open publication - Free publishing

sharing with the community at shanda's

from this one place

2012-02-06T08:40:00.000-05:00

i’ve been enjoying the soothing tunes of sara groves. mellow. graceful. like a long drink of water to a soul that thirsts. thirsts for good things. right things. things that will satisfy.

and i come to you today from a place of unknown. a place that doesn’t feel good. feels uncertain. unsteady.

and yet if i think on it a bit, i realize that it is the place that i always am. it is an illusion if i think any differently. if i think i am “in the know.”

for life. . . it is truly only the here and now that is certain. anything beyond that is only known by God. we can plan. we can prepare. but then we must rest. we must know that He holds it. quite capably, i must add. and any delusion on our part that we control what lies ahead is simply our own flesh struggling to regain an upper hand that we never had.

and, ultimately, that i never want.

“from this one place i can’t see very far
in this one moment i’m square in the dark
these are the things i will trust in my heart
You can see something else
something else.”

i’ve recently finished genesis and this month finds me in exodus.
now there you’ll find a bunch of people who on the one hand had
God’s plan laid out clearly before them,
while on the other hand they were in the dark a lot.
but this one thing i’ve seen: He was always there.
and their stubborn hearts refused to believe, refused to walk in faith.
and my stubborn heart refuses to believe, refuses to walk in faith.

“i don’t know what’s making me so afraid
tiny cloud over my head
heavy and grey with a hint of dread. . .
from this one place i can’t see very far
in this one moment i’m square in the dark
these are the things i will trust in my heart
You can see something else
something else.”

and this day i will choose to trust, from this place in the dark, that HE can see something else.

and this is my praise that i offer.

continuing to count toward my 1000 gifts this year:
446. answers, even if not most desired.
447. questions, even if they muddy the picture.
448. God—who knows ALL the questions & the answers.
449. friends—who pray for all the questions & answers.
450. others—who give ongoing perspective in the midst of it all.
451. patience of my family. . . that’s all i can say: patience.
452. minds to seek, learn, and grow.
453. reading through the Bible this year with my girls.
454. the sun rising this very morning, over fields glistening with frost.
455. conversations that happen with grace sprinkled over them.

sharing with Ann and Jen
*words in quotes by sara groves, in her song "from this one place."

real relationships are hard—a five-minute friday post

2012-02-03T06:24:00.003-05:00

wahoo, it's friday!!! hope your week has gone well to this point.
you know the drill--write for five minutes with no editing, tweaking or otherwise
making your post look too good :-) you should try it, really.
this week's prompt: REAL.
have a great weekend!

i recently shared this quote in response to the gypsy mama's post on real-life relationships and how they look compared to internet ones: “don’t give in to the temptation to exchange REAL relationships which are HARD for VIRTUAL relationships which are EASY.”
you’ll have to read her post to get the meat of it. but the gist was about real-life relationships. . . and making them happen. like, in REAL life. yikes!

and how that can be hard.

and how sometimes i would really just like to sit behind my computer screen, typing away, developing relationships with those i’ve met through this virtual world. . . because it’s safe. and relatively easy. and i can support you through your mess without actually being involved in your mess.

you don’t keep me up at night (for the most part). and, thankfully, i never have to cook a meal for you (you really wouldn’t want me to, anyway!). and when you desperately need someone to watch your kids at the last minute. . . well, sorry, but there’s a lot more than just the computer screen that separates us, right?

that’s the difference between virtual and real relationships. yes, you people are dear to me. and i hope to actually meet some of you someday.

but i have to remember that there are people around me that have real needs that i CAN meet. kids that really DO need watching. meals that really DO need cooked. messes that DO really need help with the cleaning.

virtual relationships are easy. okay, easier. real relationships are hard. they require more of me. they require more of Him in me.

and that’s the hard, real truth.

*quote by John Stonestreet

i bruise easily

2012-02-01T10:37:00.001-05:00

i bruise easily.

i’m looking at my wrist, where exactly five days ago some nice but inept (trust me) man stuck me with a rather tiny needle in order to extract some blood. ten seconds of pain, but the bruise is still there. and it will be there in another five days. and another five days after that.

i bruise easily.

i’m not sure when, other than the fact that it’s been at least six months since i ran into the shoe holder at the end of the bed or the edge of the night stand that holds the radio. . . the apparatus doesn’t matter so much as the orange-sized bruise it left. yes, i do tend to run into things. or maybe they tend to get in my way.
whatever the case, there is still a quarter-sized green tinge to my skin where the assault occurred.

and i bruise easily.

i suppose if my skin was a better map, it could tell you where i’ve been in recent days, what travels it’s taken, what further harm it’s protected me from.

it never fails. i get a bit too confident. or just start goofing off. or just don’t pay attention.

and there it is. i bruise easily.

makes me think i should be a little more mindful of my surroundings. more mindful of the souls i run into. a little more careful. a little more protective of the people God brings into my life. how i bump them. throw my words at them. hit them with things they weren’t expecting. even smack them in the face at times with my thoughts, with my actions. wound them.

for perhaps, just perhaps, they bruise easily, too.

sharing with emily, winsome wednesday, & women living well

the road ahead

2012-01-31T05:55:00.001-05:00

the boy sat in his car seat, watching the landscape flying by.
and all of a sudden, his little voice asked, “do you remember the day you forgot me at preschool?”
the mother, very confused and wracking her brain for information she simply didn’t have, answered, “no, as far as i know, i never forgot you.”
“yeah,” he replied, “you drove by and saw me on the playground, and later i had to take the bus home because you forgot to come get me.”

the part about the playground was true. she had been on her way to the store, and had seen the kids on the church playground swinging and playing. able to pick her son out of the crowd, she had told him later that she had seen him.

but this young boy, attending the developmental preschool for some delays. . . always took the bus home with his older sister. his mama never picked him up, but rather waited for him at the end of the driveway when it was time.

and somehow, some way. . . in his mind this had translated itself into mom forgetting him at preschool. she left him there. simply forgot him.

and for the first time the mom began thinking, what other things has he misunderstood? misinterpreted? misperceived?

for this was the beginning of a pattern. the beginning of a journey.

it wouldn’t be a quick journey, nor would it be an easy one. but i like to believe it was—the beginning of greater understanding and a more fully-lived life. the life he was meant to live. the life God gave him.

the life God gave us.

***i’ve been pondering something lately. it has to do with special needs. when i started this blog, i thought i’d start right in, chronicling our journey into the world of cognitive and behavioral challenges.
but i’ve wanted to do it right. in a way that honors our family. and my kiddos.
i feel like i’m there now. that i’m in a place to begin sharing a part of the journey. and i’m finding there are others who have stories that need to be shared. others who may not have a forum.
i would love to hear your stories. share any resources you may have.
my hope is that this will become a source of encouragement to those who walk what can be a tough road. for His glory we find our satisfaction.

“tuesdays child is full of grace.”
and so we begin on a tuesday.

image credit

the road to recovery

2012-01-30T08:33:00.000-05:00

“hi, i’m jerry, and i’m a sinner.”
and he looked at us all (the congregation) as if we were a room full of recoverers (and tells us we all are). and he proceeds to tell us how we’re in good company and need go no further than the holy Word of God to find who our traveling companions are.
want to hear their introductions?
“hi, i’m noah, and i’m a drunkard.”
“hi, i’m abraham, and i’m a liar. in fact, i even risked my own wife’s life in order to save my own.”
“hi, i’m david, and i’m an adulterer and a murderer.”
“hi, i’m sampson, and i struggle with lust.”
“hi, i’m rahab, and i’m a harlot.”
“hi, i’m peter, and i let my best friend down when he needed me most. oh, not once, but three times. yeah, three.”
“hi, i’m paul, and i have a really hard time getting along with people.”

care to add your own?

and we’re recovering, but on that road to recovery we’re looking better. not because of anything we’ve done, but because of what HE did. and if we leave with nothing else gained this day, we must know this: He loves us with an everlasting love. everlasting. performance can’t earn it, performance can’t lose it. He bears a permanent stain as a witness of His love for us.

“Beloved, we are God’s children NOW; what we will be has not yet been revealed. What we do know is this: when He is revealed, we will be like Him, for we will see Him as He is. And all who have this hope in Him purify themselves, just as He is pure.” I John 3:2,3

and these heroes. . . their very essence of “hero-ness” is not unrelated to their brokenness, but rather comes directly out of their brokenness.

“hi, i’m steph. and i feel broken. irreparably, hopelessly, broken.”

but it is in our brokenness that we are able to fully recognize God’s great love for us.

we are given moments of cognition, an understanding that continues to grow of His great love for me. for you.

will you grasp those moments? hold onto them with your very life? don’t let them slip away? hide them away in your heart? use them to defeat the lies of the enemy in moments of weakness, when he would try to convince you that God does not love you?

and the greatest sin is to live without cognition of God’s great love for us.

i crave that love. i need that love. like the very air i breathe, i will die without it. thank God He reaches down and touches me, every day, with His fresh breath of love. a love never able to be undone. never outperformed. never cast away.

it is this love that casts out all fear. this love that is perfect.

He loves me. He loves me. He loves me.

wash me in Your love, o God.

continuing to count my way to 1000 gifts:
429. the spirit of mercy and the ability to extend it.
430. sweetness, in multiple forms.
431. the ability to listen.
432. friends who talk.
433. fresh coffee.
434. opportunity to foster new relationships.
435. being held.
436. forgiveness.
437. pursuit.
438. intentionality.
439. “free”, by dara maclean
440. “i love you,” again and again. . . times four.
441. dreams fostered.
442. perspective from a different stage of life.
443. the comfort of an old home.
444. memories, after a day spent scrapbooking them.
445. sacrifices of others for love. all for love.

sharing with the communities at Ann's, Jen's, and Michelle's
image credit

tender—a five-minute friday post

2012-01-27T06:31:00.002-05:00

wahoo, it's friday!!! hope your week has gone well.

it's been a bit crazy around here, but i'm ready to

breathe a bit. . . and compose for five-minute friday.

the rules are simple. write for five minutes without editing.

that's right. no editing.

this week's given prompt: TENDER.

hoping you can look around and find some

tenderness in your life this day. have a great weekend!

so i just finished up getting recertified in the resuscitation of newborn babies.
it’s always a bit nerve-wracking for me. okay, a whole lot of nerve-wracking for me.

but it’s over. and as we “played” around and did a live, video-taped simulation with this $30K newborn in order to prove our skills. . . we had to pretend it was real.
and you can’t just pound away on a newborn’s body, real or fake. you have to be tender.

and after it was all over, considering the day i’d had, considering the week i’d had, i sent this text to a friend. . .

how many directions can a woman be pulled before she is torn to pieces? just wonderin’.

and maybe it’s all the studying i had to do this week or maybe it’s simply the nurse in me, but i was filled with a mental image. of God. of me.

Him, cupping my head and lifting my face toward His. the breath of His life, infusing my very being. lungs expanding to their very maximum in order to take in every ounce of air that He can provide. and i am filled.

His hands upon my chest, giving my heart its every beat. one after the other. perfect synchronization. no need for Him to keep time. He is time.

and throughout this entire mental exercise, an awareness of His power, His strength, His very ability to crush me at any given moment.

and yet His tenderness prevails.

i was reminded this week that there are many things in my life that i am required to hold. that is just part of life.

but one of my main jobs is to let Him hold me.

so today i rest. in His ever tender embrace. and inhale the life-giving breath He offers, moment by moment.

i asked—a 1000 gifts post

2012-01-23T08:38:00.000-05:00

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i asked. amidst the coercion of friends. alongside the desires of my daughters. and a gut feeling that there was a possibility it was the right thing to do.

i asked.

and i fully expected shame. guilt. embarrassment. that feeling that i was asking too much. that i had no right to the gift. that i wasn’t important enough to make such a request.

but this is my year to unfurl. to bring things to light. to expose myself. to lay it all out there, bare and messy as it may be.

so i asked.

and He answered. not once, but threefold. and there was only grace and generosity and delight on the part of the giver. and in the matter of two minutes it was done. why do i always expect so little?

it was done.

some gifts we spend a long time waiting for. agonizing. praying.

others. . . He simply lays them out before us and says, “receive. and be blessed.”

continuing to count my way to 1000 gifts this year:
414. the growth of my son—physically, emotionally, spiritually.
415. the needs of a girl, and that God has given her to me to help meet them.
416. understanding from a different perspective.
417. beautiful, beautiful sunset, that displays His varied spectrum of colors.
418. time spent with friends, and the relationship-building that took place.
419. crying; full-out crying before the Lord (one thing ugly-beautiful).
420. my mother’s hands and the love and beauty they spread upon others.
421. the fresh faces of my girls as they strive toward beautiful womanhood.
422. remembered love letters, letters of encouragement from friends—words that share love.
423. His fresh renewal every day.
424. His promise to be with me through every trial (facing one this very week!).
425. His confidence and strength—that I can rely on those during things/events that challenge me.
426. blue moods—and the fact that He finds me, even there.
427. friends that challenge me to do things for the sake of others, putting my own desires aside.
428. friends that care for my kids.

on colors so vivid::a five-minute friday post

2012-01-20T06:55:00.000-05:00

it’s not that i don’t like color. quite the opposite, actually. but neutrals have become a matter of economy for me. practicality. somewhere along the way of having four kids and stretching the budget, i came to an agreement with earth tones, and we’ve been best friends ever since.

my life, however, has been anything but neutral. as i have watched my kids grow, they often remind me of vivid colors, splashed on the canvas of my otherwise neutral life. hues of red and purple and green and pink. {used to be} lots and lots of pink. and feeling more splashes of blues and browns as my boy has grown and becomes young man.

God at work.

for though we don’t come into this world an empty canvas, oh no, surely not; we are certainly an art work in its very beginning stages.

but God.

He grabs hold. and He wields His brush as a master artist, creating. . . swirling the colors of vivid life into something with so much color i sometimes have to shade my eyes for the brightness of it all.

and i stand amazed. privileged for the view He has given me. giving thanks for it this day. oh. so. much. thanks.

and i’ve even bought a few things recently that are COLORFUL! celebrating the beauty of color once again, and enjoying the life it makes me feel inside.

i actually slept in this friday! yikes! visit the gypsy mama's site for the rules

of five-minute friday and take some time to participate

if you dare :-)

have a great weekend!

image credit

ivory keys::the sounds of joy

2012-01-19T07:12:00.002-05:00

her long, slender fingers touch the keys and the soulful melody begins to play. tentatively, for she’s only just now learning the song.
and my hands pause as i look at the glistening bubbles like sparkling diamonds in the kitchen sink awash with sunlight.
i am taken to another place.
and i have only one thought.

God.

my heart leaps, for it is a God-presence kind of moment. the music is fairy-light, bringing to mind every good thing any little girl could ever dream of or hope for. castles and jewels and lands far away where waterfalls splash life and the sun always shines.

and a watery jewel glistens in my eye as i feel His presence through her music. and it brings my heart great joy. i am brought face to face, touch to touch, heart to heart with the personification of His creativity.

and it is good.

“a joyful heart is good medicine. . .” and yes, like a liquid tonic mixed up just for me, just on this day, i can feel it going down smooth, filling my bones with renewal. refreshment. regeneration.

joy sometimes comes in the most unlikely places. the daily. the ordinary. and sometimes, yes, the extraordinary.

am i aware? am i listening? am i waiting on the Giver of it?

and as the melody plays on, “meaghan’s melody,” it is called. . .

i have to wonder at the joy that inspired such a piece to be written.

and while i submerge my hands in crystal bubbles once more and continue on with a day still full of the same trials, the same pains, the same weariness. . .

i will carry this treasure of joy with me throughout and know this. this very truth. . .

His joy makes my soul well.

and sharing with thought-provoking thursday

casting stones

2012-01-18T06:51:00.002-05:00

i am woman.
married to a man.
i go to work as a nurse between eight and twelve hours a week. in this work i am his helpmeet in a way that he has condoned, encouraged, and honored.

and yet. . . i find it interesting.

there are stay-at-home moms who call me “working woman.”

and the women at work laugh and call me “privileged stay-at-home mom who hardly works.”

and somewhere in between i have worked hard to find my niche.

that sweet spot where i fit.

where i belong.

where the desires of my heart are filled, and i know what i am about, and the world i fill and create and breathe life within just. feels. right.

where i no longer disappoint.

and isn’t this sweet (she says sarcastically), what we as women have done to ourselves over the years, even as Christians, even within the church, even as representatives of the loving person—the man/God known as Jesus Christ?

for who among us knows the intimate circumstances within which each of us dwells?

and who among us has walked in the very shoes of the women who live in our circles? or better yet, those outside our circles?

in a world of as many opportunities as there are uncertainties, choices as forced circumstances, mandates as interpretations. . . . are we simply to cast stones of judgment rather than take the time to try to understand?

take the time to care? in spite of our understanding? or misunderstanding?

and this is grace.

that I can’t see life from where you stand. and while i may have an opinion, or may have insight to offer if asked. . . i promise to stay out of the conversation between you and your husband. between you and your God. and love you and help you in whatever circumstance you may find yourself.

for God knows the enemy awaits to cast stones at the first opportunity. God knows you may be the first one to cast those stones of shame and guilt and doubt upon yourself.

you certainly don’t need any from my side of the quarry.

how do You love me?—a 1000 gifts post

2012-01-16T13:56:00.002-05:00

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his voice is quite familiar to me by now.
on those evenings when i work late, not getting home until almost midnight. . .
just about the time i pull into my driveway, his voice reaches out from the radio and asks,
“how do you know God loves you today?”

i know what he’s getting at.
i know he’s trying to remind all of us, his listeners, to be mindful of how we’ve been cared for through the day. of the ways that God was present.

and the first time i heard him ask, i had almost fallen asleep at the wheel.
i was particularly shaken.
and i KNEW how God had shown His love to me that day.
just a few minutes before, in fact.

but every time since, when i hear him ask the question, i wonder.
what if i can’t point to anything specific on that particular day?
in other words, what if there is no “God-incident” to point to His love for me?
or even worse, in my mind. . . what if i feel, in particular, that God really doesn’t love me on that day?

immutable.
unchangeable, changeless, steadfast, constant, enduring, perpetual, permanent, and inflexible.
that’s Him.
and that’s His love for me.

so, really, how do i know He loves me today?
because He’s God.
and God is love.
it’s as simple and complex as that.

continuing to count my way to 1000 gifts:
396. the clouds above, and learning to live with thanks even amidst the grey.
397. the free ground i walk upon and recent reminders of what it takes to maintain that freedom.
398. the warmth and comfort of a fire.
399. the sound of children singing.
400. the sound of worship, voices intent on singing praises to Him.
401. the sound of intentionality—conscious decisions to choose words carefully.
402. a handmade scarf that makes me feel happy.
403. how sharing a book can open up new thoughts and discussion.
404. movie time with girls and the beauty on the screen.
405. Qdoba while at work (made me laugh).
406. revelation of my own selfish wants (made me quiet).
407. kept safe from almost being hit in my car (made me pray).
408. the immutability of God—and being able to share that with a bunch of fourth graders at church.
409. hearing those fourth graders read from God’s Word.
410. hearing them name various attributes of God as seen in His Word.
411. my daughter’s love for cooking (grace in the kitchen).
412. both sun & snow this week, and their beauty (grace in the weather).
413. contemplating my daughter’s birthday soon (a grace that might never have been).

five-minute friday!

2012-01-13T06:41:00.002-05:00

wahoo! it. is. friday!!!

and that means i’ve enjoyed another five-minute friday writing.

BUT, today i wrote it over at Guarded Hearts, where

i’ve been trying to write more frequently for the sake

of my sweet girls here at home. today’s word prompt was AWAKE.

rather than write about my issues with insomnia, i decided to take a

different route more suited to them :-)

hope you all have a blessed weekend!

stay warm!

a new name {hephzibah}

2012-01-11T07:32:00.000-05:00

too many feelings of shame
familiar friends
cover me, overwhelm me.

and in their presence
i am nothing
hidden, washed in darkness.

and in my haste
to believe their words
i cave, crushed by their weight.

pounding at me
from all around
i struggle, to find air.

unable to breathe
i slowly die
reaching, a hand for something to grasp.

and in my struggle
there is One who hears
breaking, the chains that hold me.

tearing the garments
of shame that cover
instead, He gives me a new name.
{hephzibah}

He delights
in me
simply, completely, me.
{hephzibah}

and i am laid bare
open to His gaze
unashamed, as He whispers my name.
{hephzibah}

His delight
pure delight
alone, for me alone.
{hephzibah}

i am new
made in Him
unrobed, unveiled, . . . known.
{hephzibah}

"You shall no more be termed Forsaken,

and your land shall no more be termed Desolate;

but you shall be called My Delight Is in Her (Hephzibah),

and your land Married; for the Lord delights in you,

and your land shall be married.

Isaiah 62:4

sharing with the communities of Tracy and Emily today.

the continuing roar

2012-01-07T19:45:00.001-05:00

last week’s five-minute friday prompt of “roar” still has me pondering. giving it more thought than even on that particular morning.

maybe it was all of the other women’s stories that i read. all the cyber-roaring that was taking place throughout the day.

or maybe it was mary kathryn writing this, “i am woman, hear me roar,” that really got my adrenaline rushing.

and it hasn’t stopped yet.

and i look around at a world of wounded women. women damaged by this or that. women “helped” by a feminist agenda. women looking for the sound of their roar and coming up with a deafening silence.

perhaps it’s just the six straight days of sunshine resulting in off the chart serotonin levels that makes me want to beat my chest, pound a fist against the steering wheel, keeping rhythm with the pulsating beat of the music on the stereo.

but boy, oh boy, do i feel the roar.

and this. this is the experience i want for my girls-turning-young-women. i want them to know who they are, know whose they are. i want them to understand what God created them to be. as. women.

and feel the roar.

the roar that brings excitement and pleasure and joy unspeakable. the one that makes a girl want to throw her hands high, shout “hallelujahs,” and rejoice in the gender determined while she was yet still in the womb. delight. pure delight.

i am woman.

hear me roar.

today this is my praise. my thanksgiving. that i am. who God. made me. to be.

my latest fixation, and an example of that “pulsating beat” on the stereo.

it's what i've been sharing with teen girls lately.

i just love beckah's joy.

continuing to count my gifts toward 1000 and taking Ann's dare for 2012:
376. the gift of mercy.
377. optimism.
378. perseverance.
379. sunshine. . . and more of it!
380. a day, yes a full day, spent reading!
381. food cooked by someone else.
382. "i'm sorry" offered with a true and contrite spirit.
383. "you are used of God."
384. seeing growth and maturity of thinking in my kids.
385. reading "the hole in the gospel" and finding nuggets.
386. finding new recipes that make me feel successful in the kitchen!
387. medicine. . . for the days when the pain just won't stop.
388. a fridge that keeps our food fresh, in the face of so much poverty and lack.
389. overwhelming love in my heart for those God has given me--at times it threatens to undo me.
390. that my people around here put up with my "lesser" moods.
391. that i am loved.
392. that there is any measure of success in our homeschooling--in spite of me!
393. his small but growing hand in mine.
394. her, fitting so neatly under my arm still.
395. the two of them, tall willows that grace me with their beautiful souls each day.

sharing at ann's and also at jen's today.

the building of a roar—a five-minute friday post

2012-01-06T06:39:00.001-05:00

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we’re six days into the new year.
six days after choosing a word for the year. a word to focus on. a word to grow and stretch through.
{if i can be quite honest here, i wasn’t even sure what the merit was in doing such a thing, but decided to jump in and do it anyway—and am oh-so-glad i did}

so i’m six days in to the process of “unfurling.”
or in other words, stripped bare, unveiled, uncoiled, unshrouded.

i picked my word because it was quiet. reserved. didn’t have an overarching presence of strength or warrior-like quality to it.

but here. six days in. and that one simple synonym has me.

unshrouded.

and with the trappings of death thrown aside, i can feel the roar gathering strength within. the roar of freedom.

for if a girl is going to be stripped bare, exposed, unveiled, dismasked, brought to light, and all coverings of death ripped off and cast away. . . she’d best have a loud roar ready and prepared to share with those around as witnesses.

and in the calm before the storm, i can hear His answer-roar as He covers me.

wahoo, it's friday! this is where we write, just for the joy of writing.

no editing. no tweaking. no over-analyzing form.

in case you didn't get it, this week's theme: ROAR.

have a great weekend, friends!

in the grey

2012-01-04T06:12:00.001-05:00

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i feel death in the grey. life-draining, body-stiffening, death.
there is life in the light, and even the dark holds its calm and warmth.
but the grey. . . it paralyzes.

and i am reminded of the Lord’s reprimand against lukewarm,
and i want to spew the grey from around me in much
the same way.

for to me
it holds no use
no refreshment, no healing.

and yet, unlike the lukewarm
the grey stands beyond my grasp
just outside the realm of my control.

it is His.
this is His created day.
even in the grey.

and i, i have a choice
to curl up inside myself
all fetal, head to knees with eyes closed.

to shut out the world
shut up my heart
listen to the voices within rather than without.

or i can reach
unfurl
and feel the breath of God.

the breath of the God
of the Universe
course through my veins.

filling my sails
billowing
taut yet silky smooth.

and it is then i move forward
quietly. . . lightly. . . weightless
through the grey.

*a bit of trivia: Indiana experiences sunshine 55% of its days in a year's time.

and half of those are only partly sunny

(meaning the sun merely makes an appearance at some point)

perhaps you better understand my issue with "grey" :-)

one word 365

2012-01-02T07:07:00.001-05:00

i’ve always made new year’s resolutions. if not verbally, then most definitely mentally.
but these past two years, i’ve broken them. early. like, by 4ish in the morning.
so goes my dedication to resolutions.

as i have entered 2012 (and by the way, that’s “twenty-twelve”, NOT “two thousand twelve” as i was informed on the news yesterday), i have been contemplating a word for the year. turns out this wasn’t a unique gesture on my part. i heard of a couple of people doing it, but then found out there are a LOT of people doing it!

a word to consider. give thought to. focus.

many words went marching through my mind. from the lame to the over-achieving. i sensed it would be a quiet one. no brave and courageous warrioress sitting before this screen, no. not that i don’t love those ideas. but i’m tired after this past year. weary. and while the idea of a word that symbolizes strength is very appealing, it requires a certain amount of energy that i just could not summon. i'll have to read about those journeys on others' blogs.

then there was the five-minute friday prompt “open.” and that almost touched on it. i gave that serious thought. especially after what i wrote about it. but then it kept bringing to mind “open” in the sense of how the world defines it. “open” to everything, every pattern of thinking, every way of living. as if any way you choose to live is right. and that is not the kind of “open” i wanted coming to mind with “my word.”

so here it is. and i was right. it came quietly across my screen. revealed itself. it’s not a common word, and doesn’t necessarily promote itself in any sort of dignified manner. i doubt you’d see it on a banner as a conference theme. but here it is:

UNFURL

and while the definition from the 1913 Webster’s dictionary simply states, “to loose from a furled state,” here is that same dictionary’s list of related words:

bare

expose

let daylight in

strip bare

unshroud

unveil

manifest

lay open

dismask

bring to light

uncoil

in a word, that’s what i’m seeking in 2012. before my God and Creator. a life lived unfurled. i suppose it has a bold and daring essence all its own. but it also feels incredibly warm. safe. held tight by the One Who knows and loves me best. bare. exposed. rid of all pretense. unfurled sails filled with the fresh breath of a holy God that desires intimate relationship with me.

sharing at oneword365

and also with jen's community

ode to 2011

2011-12-31T15:51:00.001-05:00

*ah, the finality of another year passing. and yet, it lives on. in the ways it has changed us. grown us. blessed us. and here—my ode to the year 2011.

hello, good-bye
wish i could say
sad to see ya go
but---sigh.

i’ll put you, year
to happy rest
not another one i’ll shed for you
crystal---tear.

we met each morn
day after faithful
twenty-four hour day
life---born.

and now i see
road rising to meet
another year to follow
here, now---be.

open—a five-minute friday post

2011-12-30T06:56:00.001-05:00

wahoo! it's friday! friday is write-your-heart-out day.

literally. for five minutes only, though. wouldn't want to drag things

out around here :-)

and no editing or tweaking or critical analyzing

involved. nope, just writing for the pure fun

of it.

this week's prompt: OPEN

thanks for joining me.

i’m excited. yep, my somewhat introverted, sometimes melancholy self is excited.
about 2012.

why?
i feel God stirring.
oh, yeah, He’s been there all along.
funny how it feels at times that HIS position changes, when it’s really ours. as if something about HIM has come into clearer focus, when it’s really my focus that is changing so utterly and completely so that i see Him more clearly.

and that is why i’m excited about the coming year.
i want to be open. i AM more open.
open to whatever He has in store for me.
open to whatever He wants to reveal about Himself to me.
open to throwing aside all the preconceived notions i have about Him and welcoming in the truth about Him.

i want to be more open to taking risks.
i read this recently about risk-taking. i don’t think i’ll be going to that extreme, but it challenged me, nonetheless, to reach beyond my safe boundaries to places God might be calling me.

and i have a friend here that just added four adopted children to her already busy household with seven biological kiddos.

that’s being O.P.E.N.

open to God’s calling. open to God’s heart.

and that’s where i want to be. tucked right up next to His heart. feeling the strength of its beat. one at a time. just for me.

and open to the whispers i hear there.

fireproof

2011-12-28T09:30:00.001-05:00

*yesterday we watched the movie “Fireproof” with our kids. though i’d seen it before, i was inspired yet again. motivated. and struck. . . by how it all starts with our vertical relationship. God. fireproof my relationship with Him first. then fireproof those relationships around me. and this is what came forth as a result.

consume me, o God

engulf me, completely

that i might feel

the heat of Your holiness.

You surround me

and i am melted by Your embrace

hold me

keep me from going astray.

You give

i take & throw away.

You love

i consume & toss aside.

as One Who knows me beyond the measure of myself

yet Whose words flow fresh & set my love astir

You fireproof my heart

against the love of those false.

my want is for You

You, and You alone.

steel me against temptations

sweet words not searing the lonely places of my soul.

by Your grace. alone.

this all-encompassing love

somehow

i give back unto You.

my heart. . . fireproofed

yet set aflame once more.

kadosh

2011-12-22T08:16:00.001-05:00

*The idea of the holy (kadosh) implies differentiation: the realm of the holy is entirely set apart from the common, the habitual, or the profane. The holy is singular, awe-inspiring, even “terrible” or dreadful.
As the Holy One (hakadosh), the Lord of Hosts is utterly unique, distinct, sacred, and set apart as the only One of its kind. He alone is worthy of true worship and adoration, since He alone is utterly peerless, without rival, and stands in relation to the world as Creator and Lord. Yes, only the Lord is infinitely and eternally Other—known to Himself as “I AM THAT I AM.” (Exodus 3:15)
--excerpt taken from hebrew4christians.com

*song by Beckah Shae

not the best in the way of video, but it was the only song option available.

if i owned a different camera

2011-12-21T07:16:00.001-05:00

photo credit

i am not a photographer.
by any stretch of the imagination.
and that’s why i own a point-and-shoot camera.
but imagine with me that life is my subject, and a “real’’ camera my tool.

right now i need to change my lens.

my brother called to talk Christmas shop yesterday. and while i do try not to be a whiner, i was bemoaning all i had left to do.
while at the same time reassuring him to not stress out by all the “stuff” he needs to get done before coming up for the holiday.

and in one short sentence, he brought all my frantic rushing to a stop:
“since losing tammy, it’s made me realize that it’s not about finding just the right gift. it’s about time. and being together.”

thank you, brother, for changing my lens when i couldn’t seem to do it myself.

his beloved wife always took care of the gifts.
this is the second year he has to take care of them on his own. oh, how loneliness grips.
and God is digging in deep, wrapping him hard in His arms, holding him strong. reassuring. comforting.

and i feel those same arms holding me.

can YOU feel them? holding you close? right by the heart of the One Who came. for. you?
can you feel His heart beating out the rhythm of your name.
calling. seeking. rejoicing.
in you.
holding you when there are no other arms to do it.

so many circumstances of hardship and tragedy surround me. some closer than others. and it is good when i take the time to view life through the lens of someone else’s camera. or at the very least change my own.

you might already know that the night dj always asks, just about the time i pull in the drive after heading home from work, and last night was no different. . .
“how do you know God loves you today?”

just because. because God became man and told me so.

sharing with emily & her community this day.

and i continue to wait

2011-12-20T07:00:00.001-05:00

i haven’t prepared well this year.
oh, i’ve tried, believe me.
we have an advent book we’ve been attempting to read through nightly with the kids.
at this rate, Jesus will be arriving by the end of January.
but thank God, He hasn’t given up and still plans to arrive.
and i thank God His timing is always perfect, unlike my own.

we spent several days last week and over the weekend in eastern tennessee.
to witness the college graduation of the oldest grandchild on both sides of our family.
the young man who lost his mother last year to cancer.
the mother whose wish it was to witness this very event.

but she ascended before she had the chance.

so we stood in her stead.
witnessed his accomplishment.
lavished him with praise for all that he has done.
encouraged him as he goes forth into a world that is uncertain.

it was certainly an inconvenient time to graduate,
being the week before Christmas.
but oh, how we were blessed by the event
by the chance to give this young man a blessing.

and now i’m spinning again.
wondering how i’m going to finish up everything before the days of festivities begin.

but i hear the whisper.

in spite of the call of culture and media and just my inner self who screams so loudly that i have somehow failed in my tasks for the season.

threatening to steal every ounce of joy.

and we drove.
through the awesome view of the smoky mountains of tennessee, toward home.
with Christmas music playing in the background.
and i was reminded by so many situations of my own situation: one that should be filled with gratitude. deep, deep gratitude.
and the music played on:

for unto us a child is born.

please, Lord, let me not forget the reason for the season that we celebrate.

unto us a son is given.

yes, for me, for my kids, for everyone i hold dear and for the world at large. for everyone, He chose to come.

and his name shall be called.

yes, yes, Lord, what shall i call you? when i pray, when i need to know You, when i seek Your face. . . how shall i address You?

WONDERFUL.

COUNSELOR.

ALMIGHTY GOD.

THE EVERLASTING FATHER.

THE PRINCE OF PEACE.

amen.

and i wait.

for all that matters. for all that is important. for all that threatens to consume to be stripped away.

for nothing to be left so that i can be filled back up with everything that is Him.

covered.

completed.

come, Lord Jesus, come.

i wait.

sharing over at Jen's lovely place today
*song lyrics from Handel's Messiah

held

2011-12-14T06:24:00.001-05:00

the silent night calls out to me
its stars all shining and bright
God rest ye merry gentlemen
for soon you’ll see the sight.

Emmanuel, o God with us,
please come, Lord Jesus, come
then saw three ships come sailing in
complete with God’s own Son.

and when it’s the night before Christmas
and all is quiet in this house
remind me, o Lord, past all the merriment
and poems that reference a mouse.

restless. lonely, palpable ache
Almighty God, how we yearn
Wonderful Counselor, Prince of Peace
dwelt among us, our souls He heard.

we await with hearts that long for Your coming
fruition of stories long told
for mending of hearts torn from Lover of Souls
the bondage of sin with no hold.

o God with us, EMMANUEL
let me see with eyes unveiled
i rest. i feel. Your arms strong and warm.
simply. adoringly. held.

sharing with emily's beautiful community this day

the whispers of God

2011-12-13T06:22:00.001-05:00

this was pulled from the archives of my writing--when i used to write

for a homeschool newsletter. thus, the references that

seem a bit out-of date. but its application to this time of year

is timeless, and here i am, six years later, needing the same reminders.

hope you are enjoying your advent season, friends, and finding

time to hear the whispers of God throughout.

my house is, quite simply, filled with noise. participating in a conversation with other moms about the biggest difference between having one vs. two children, it was unanimously thought that the biggest change was the noise level. and for those of us with more than two, all we could say in response was, “what???”

you see, our hearing had already been impaired by the increased noise! is it any wonder that our children are constantly trying to get our attention? what they don’t realize is that it would be much more effective if they would just hit us rather than shouting at us! most of us have maintained our sense of touch, even if our hearing has failed.

unfortunately, for many, Christmas has just become another “noise” in a culture filled with noise. it’s just a bunch of hubbub for them to endure and “get through.” they complain about family obligations, and all the money wasted on gifts. and even those of us trying to make it “different” for our families often find ourselves succumbing to the influence and attitudes of those around.

this year, I’ve been trying more and more to enjoy those moments of peace and quiet. i’ve been reflecting on God’s promise of a Savior, and standing in awe of the gift He gave FOR ME.

you know how sometimes it is something out of the norm that catches our attention, rather than what we hear all the time? that is how it has been for me this year, as I have continued to hear the whisper of God throughout my days. God’s whisper. have you heard it?

while at the children’s museum recently, we saw a little girl, probably 5 or 6 years old. her big blue eyes stood out in her tiny little face. her head looked so little, with no hair to fill it out. some disease had ravaged her body, but she still dressed it up in purple-fringed jeans. as her gaze kept finding mine, i heard His whisper, telling of His great love for this child in her weakness. His great love for me in my weakness.

the next whisper came from my daughter’s speech therapist. always hesitant to give a prognosis, the twinkle in her eyes and the pride in her voice conveys her spirit of hope. she pours out love on my little one, and my daughter responds with great abandon. the gains she is making bring joy to my heart, and God’s whisper surrounds me. “she is loved. and I love YOU.”

the third whisper was begun two years (now eight) ago, and continues to echo through the passing of time. it comes from a little blonde (now dark-haired) boy, born in another land, rescued from a life of despair. God gifted him to US. he has found safety and security. and he is loved beyond measure. he is learning about a God that is unknown from where He came. my hope is that they can see it in his eyes in the pictures we send back. who might have told him of God if we had not answered God’s call?

those whispers can be life-changing. don’t miss out for lack of listening.

i find myself in many places throughout the day, but it is the end of the day that i enjoy the most. in my cozy pajamas. perhaps sipping some hot tea. comfort. warmth. peace.

so it is with my spiritual world. i find myself in many places, many times overwhelmed by the shouts of the world. but then i return home, and draw on the comfort of my Lord, surrounding myself with His presence. His comfort, warmth, and peace surround me, and i can clearly hear Him whisper my name. blessed rest awaits me.

i am coming, Lord.

sharing with Jen's community this lovely day.

color—a five-minute friday post

2011-12-09T05:46:00.001-05:00

i sit here by the glow of the Christmas tree lights.

color surrounding.

and yet i feel gray.

but life is an explosion of color each and every day

and especially at this time of year

it’s hard not to notice all the color.

and my thoughts, they swirl

like a kaleidoscope of color

refusing to be caught, contained, captured.

they do a free dance of color in my head

making beautiful images

just asking for their story, their color, to be told.

yet for whatever reason

i cannot get my hands around them

cannot capture their sparkling brilliance.

they flit and they flee

laughing as they leave a trail

of colorful dust behind.

so i wait, during this advent

and i prepare

and i simply. enjoy.

the color captures me

it captivates me

and i sit in wonder.

expecting. hoping.

for what’s coming next

in a world alight with color.

sharing with the community over at Lisa-Jo's, where we

attempt to write what's on our hearts on fridays

without giving it the normal critique. you know,

all that editing, tweaking, and otherwise painstaking

going over it with a fine-toothed comb :-)

this week's theme: COLOR

very appropriate in this current season, i think.

have a great weekend!

tired—in five minutes

2011-12-02T06:43:00.001-05:00

wahoo, it's friday!!! and that means five minutes of writing,

unedited, non-tweaked, unprocessed.

for better or for worse.

i've had both, truly.

hope you're having a great week, and that your weekend

brings with it much delight and rest as we contemplate

the theme: TIRED.

we sat across from each other at panera, sipping our coffee, absorbing the buzz around us.

“how are you doing?” he asked.

“i’m tired. bone-weary, exhaustion-filled, tired,” i answered.

sometimes i feel like a gerbil on the “fun-filled” gerbil wheel. . . with a pet store full of people just watching. shaking their heads at the futility of the little gerbil who just spins ‘round and ‘round and ‘round.

but this. right now. it doesn’t feel good.

it’s not a good kind of tired from exercise, from hard work, or a mission accomplished.

if i really think about it, i think it’s probably the wearying of a life i’ve created. of my own doing.

oh, yeah, there are external forces at work: pressing, pushing, pulling in a hundred different directions.

but there are also my own decisions. my lack of intentionality.

my listening to the wrong voices inside my own head that tell what i must accomplish instead of what i need to accomplish.

and there, in the midst of it, comes this card from my mom. with these word penned from the book of zephaniah. and i find hope. hope for rest. and joy. and restoration in the God who loves and knows me far better than any living soul ever will. the One who offers me delight and peace and rest. and they are the words i am dwelling in this season. as i treasure the gift of All that is good, and rest in His love for me.

and i feel just a little less tired. {smiles}

“For the Lord your God has arrived to live among you.

He is a mighty Savior.

He will give you victory.

He will rejoice over you in great gladness;

He will love you and not accuse you.

Is that a joyous choir I hear?

No, it is the Lord Himself exulting over you in happy song!

Zephaniah 3:17,18

STOP

tears in a bottle

2011-11-30T07:42:00.000-05:00

it only takes about ten good-sized tears to form a small puddle.

i wonder how many puddles it takes to fill a bottle?

and if God holds our tears in a bottle, are those bottles colored or clear?

and if they are colored, does that mean heaven is a bright array of rainbow-bottled tears, just waiting. . .

for the day when no more will be shed?

"You keep track of all my sorrows.

You have collected all my tears in Your bottle.

You have recorded each one in Your book."

Psalm 56:8

gifts on the cheap

2011-11-24T19:50:00.001-05:00

so a friend of mine has done something with her girls that i’ve found to be a really cool idea.
and if you’re looking for an inexpensive yet meaningful gift this year. . . this could be it.

the only “supply” you need—some type of journal for each of the kids involved.

with her daughters that are old enough to do so, she has bought a journal. this journal makes a journey—sometimes regularly, sometimes sporadically. from room to room—or rather mother to daughter.
when the mother has something she wants to write, she does so. and then leaves it in the daughter’s room for her to read.
when the daughter has something she wants to write to her mother, she does so. and then leaves it in her mother’s room for her to read.

in this way, communication is opened up in a way that otherwise might be awkward or uncomfortable. sometimes it’s just silly. other times it lends itself to the sentimental.
whatever the case may be, it has proven to be a valuable tool to encourage communication between my friend and her daughters.

let’s face it. sometimes it’s simply easier to write it than say it.

are you willing to share any meaningful gift ideas on the inexpensive side? i’d love to hear them!

in the shelter

2011-11-22T06:26:00.001-05:00

it’s been a couple of “those” weeks. you know the kind. where the words just aren’t there.

except this time, i haven’t really tried. i haven’t really cared.

the weather’s been far too gray. far too wet. and life inside my little abode has been crazy enough and challenging enough. . . that trying to get inside or outside my head (whichever is really required to write) has just. been. too. much.

but at times like these, i find myself huddling. and i believe there’s a reason God likens Himself to a bird, and directs us to find shelter under His wings.

have you watched a mother eagle with her eaglets? when they are still in the nest, still in need of protection, she doesn’t give them much time out from under the shelter of her wings. a look here. a breath of fresh air there. but then she huddles them back in, and they snuggle right back down. . . safe. warm. right where they most need to be.

and she watches. and protects. and keeps them well.

and i glance out my window while doing the dishes, get a look in the mirror after a particularly difficult day, sit on the bed contemplating another day of discomfort & challenges. . . longing for the day of redemption, when the body won’t crave healing anymore, when this bride will have met her ultimate bridegroom, when all will bow and say the name of JESUS. and i want to push in.

closer. under the shelter of His wings. feel the warmth of His embrace. and rest a while. absorb His smell. know that He is God and that I am safe.

amen.

You who live in the shelter of the Most High,

who abide in the shadow of the Almighty,

will say to the Lord, “My refuge and my fortress;

my God, in whom I trust.

. . . He will cover you with His pinions,

and under His wings you will find refuge.”

Psalm 91:1,2,4

happy birthday, sweetheart

2011-11-21T18:42:00.001-05:00

a week ago i spent the weekend with my sweet husband. at a marriage retreat. family life calls it “a weekend to remember.”

and it was.

and let me tell you this. this man. he sits here before me, in his green broken-down recliner (that was supposed to be mine), on the night of his forty-seventh birthday, and yet again makes sure i’ll never forget him.

“you haven’t blogged lately. why don’t you sit there and write a post. about what a wonderful husband you have.”

and when the keys lie silent, with my eyes glued to the screen, he has the nerve to question why i’m not typing. . . why the clickety-clack of keys can’t be heard from the foot away from me that he sits.

“i’m searching for inspiration,” i say.

laughter abounds around the room, and with a sigh i resign myself to writing the post, remembering all that i learned from that weekend that i’ll never forget. the weekend that simply cemented all the wonderful reasons i married this man—not the least of which is that he makes me laugh. every. day.

and usually more than once.

and it is this that we strive for, this special essence of family, of “coupleship”, of walking together and creating something special that really is only understood by the Holy God who created the institution in the first place.

we simply bow. submit. try to outdo one another in the loving, in the blessing, in the caring and serving.

and in return we receive more than we could ever have possibly imagined. more than we could have hoped.

more than we can ever hope to have time in this life to give back.

*****************

*continuing to count my most blessed of gifts:
364. another year celebrated with the most wonderful of men that walks the face of this earth :-)
365. great kids that put up with us, our quirky sense of humor, and continue to love us in spite of it.
366. a weekend to remember. for sure. and the time to share and communicate in ways that are often difficult.
367. a marriage that continues to thrive.
368. friends that made my own birthday an incredibly special day this past week.
369. the opportunity to share an all-day excursion with my mom. precious moments.
370. truth. and the fact that it really does set one free.
371. that He is capable of carrying our burdens for us. thank You, God.
372. that He has a plan. always.
373. solace.
374. thinking toward the season at hand.
375. thanksgiving. family. sharing both.

sharing with Ann & Jen's communities

on growing. . . and another year older

2011-11-18T06:36:00.001-05:00

i told my daughter last night that it seems just like yesterday that i was twelve. just like her.

with a roll of her eyes she smiled and said, “yeah, well that was ages ago, really.”

and i remember. remember being her age, and watching my mom, and thinking i would never grow to be that age. that time would march on, but somehow i would remain in my youth forever and ever and ever.

and today. this day. i’m forty-two. and it’s the celebrating of my birthday that even brought up the mention of time passing. the growing. and i do wonder sometimes where the time went?

and yes, i know i’m not old. but i’m grown. and i have all of these grown-up responsibilities. and i have all of these little people who expect grown-up people behavior from me. and grown-up leadership and advice.

but there are days. . .

when i just want to open the sunroof on my smokin’ hot. . . minivan.
and crank up the music with the wind flying through my hair.
give a holler ‘cause life just feels good. . .
and pretend i’m sixteen again.

but then i think—no.
absolutely not.
for even in the pains of growing, the growing is good.
and i like right where i am, right here today, right now. . . even knowing tomorrow will bring more growth.

and with that—i will celebrate.

happy friday!!! rockin' it out here for my birthday with the gypsy

mama and others for five-minute friday! write for five minutes--no editing,

no tweaking, no makin'-it-better-than-it-should-be for a five-minute

write. liberating. freeing. exhilarating.

just write what's on your heart.

this week's prompt: GROW

have a great weekend!!!

the goodness of God

2011-11-12T04:00:00.000-05:00

this was the devotional for the sunday school teachers last week. i keep coming back to it. appreciating it. i even sent a copy of it home with all of the fourth graders i teach. it’s never too early to broaden their view just a bit more of God. widen their scope. help them think just a little bit bigger. and maybe a few parents read it, too.

just wanted to share it with you today. hope you’re having a fantastic (maybe cold?) weekend!

“It is a delightful and profitable occupation to mark the hand of God in the lives of the ancient saints, and to observe His goodness in delivering them, His mercy in pardoning them, and His faithfulness in keeping His covenant with them. But would it not be even more interesting and profitable for us to notice the hand of God in our own lives? Ought we not to look upon our own history as being at least as full of God, as full of His goodness and of His truth, as much a proof of His faithfulness and veracity, as the lives of any of the saints who have gone before? We do our Lord an injustice when we suppose that He wrought all His mighty acts, and showed Himself strong for those in the early time, but does not perform wonders or lay bare His arm for the saints who are now upon the earth.”

~C.H. Spurgeon

hope unexpected

2011-11-11T05:12:00.001-05:00

yay for five-minute-friday!!! the goal: write without editing,

critiquing, or altering what's on your mind. just

spit. it. out.

i'll admit. . . this week's post has been brewing in

my head for a few weeks. so when the theme

UNEXPECTED

showed up, it was easy to put it to words

in the five allotted minutes. i know, not

quite fair. but so be it.

have a blessed weekend!

i was scheduled for surgery
the one that was supposed to end my
forever nagging neck pain
forever, so they said.

the surgeon seemed confident
or was it more on the side of desperate?
but my need outweighed reason
and i penciled the date down in my books.

and i waited
for more than you could possibly know
for signs of normalcy
that all would go as planned.

and it wasn’t until after the initial shock
complete with tears and confusion
that i placed the call
and said with trembling voice,

“i may have to postpone this surgery
for i just found out i’m unexpectedly pregnant
but i’ve miscarried before
i’ll let you know if my status changes.”

my status.
for that’s how i viewed this “change of plans.”
an unexpected change in status.
and one that just might change with time.

but this oh-so-strong girl child grew.
under my heart
within my soul
consuming my mind.

and i have since found out
that she saved me. . .
from something that just. might. have.
left me in the worst shape of my life.

unexpected hope.

she was the only thing that could
have kept me from that OR.
and in exchange i received this bundle
of life-shaping essence.

life is a series of exchanges.
giving up of one thing for the gain of another.
and many times it happens
quite unexpectedly.

STOP

***************

i recently wrote two different posts regarding the births of my first two children. one HERE, and the other one HERE.
today. this one is for my third child. another girl. she’s been dubbed “flower blossom” by her beloved auntie, and my prayer is that she will learn to grow and bloom. . . wherever she may find herself planted.
the last post—the one for my son. . . soon. very soon.

how does He love me?

2011-11-09T09:33:00.002-05:00

it wasn’t cracker barrel’s fault. yes, they had run out of cobbler, but the one that i really wanted they still had. and unlike the last time i ate there, this one didn’t contain part of the blackberry bush.
the conversation started with the simple, “how are you?” and thankfully it was 9:15 by then so the tears that sprang forth and became unstoppable didn’t put a sour spot in anyone’s stomach sitting nearby.
the waitress threw a few odd looks, but she was having such a hard time with my friend’s order that my troubles of the evening were of little import to her.

and then she stopped me after a long pause, and simply said, “you realize that you can’t fix it all, right? and that you’ll never be enough.”

never. enough.

and that, quite frankly, was the problem.

sharing the struggle of time management, need management—life management. one kiddo whose special needs we’ve been working through for some time, and another whose i had thought were dying out. . . only to resurface this past week with a somewhat hard-to-take evaluation.
the therapist assures me that we can work through this without a problem. it wasn’t lost on me that she includes me in every equation having to do with these two in my care. and i’m weary of the adding up.

for sometimes when the going gets tough, the tough get going. . .and bora bora is sounding good about now?

and, once again. but God.

the massage therapist says i gotta quit carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders. i figure she has nothing to gain by giving me this advice, so maybe she’s right. an acupuncturist once told me i really needed to take a trip. if he only knew the trip i’ve been on. somehow i don’t think mine is what he had in mind. but, hey, we’re working on progress here, not perfection.

we ended the evening way too soon. full bellies, hearts a bit lighter. looking for God in it all. all. my all in all.

and on the way home, that night dj that always catches me asked once again as he always does, “how do you know today that God loves you?”
and i doubt the poet of old would mind if i tweaked the words just a bit to say, “how does He love me? let me count the ways. . . “

linking with the community at emily's

that’s what you think

2011-11-08T11:15:00.000-05:00

this here blog mostly shows my “sensitive” side.
but today my daughter showed me this cartoon.
and it just hit home with me how much i rely on humor as a coping mechanism.
it’s about 50/50 whether stuff like this will make me bust out in laughter or tears.
fortunately today it was laughter.
i just love laughter.
thank You, God, for laughter.
my dad always said, though, that my humor tended toward the potty variety.

i guess he was right.

if your day seems to be destined to head down the toilet, maybe this will make it seem a bit brighter and lighter as you go.

sharing in both the tears and laughter with you--blessings to you, my friends.

good to know

2011-11-07T08:34:00.001-05:00

sometimes others’ words speak better than our own. sometimes life seems to move at breakneck speed, and we can hardly hear ourselves think, let alone get those thoughts that we can hear down on “paper.”

these are the thoughts that seem to be running through my mind lately:

“it’s good to know
it’s good to feel the arms of grace
to know that my mistakes are covered by Your love
it’s good to know
it’s good to see that You won’t change
when it’s said and done
You’ll always be enough
to know that i can always come back home. . . .
it’s good to know.”*

continuing to slowly count my way toward the more than thousands of gifts that God has so abundantly showered upon me:

the easy thanks:
347. kids with easy smiles and endless laughter.
348. a daughter with courage in the midst of chastisement.
349. a daughter doing the dishes. . . over and over, for me.
350. healing.
351. a husband—all sweetness personified.
352. upcoming marriage retreat.
353. willing grandparents watching kids for upcoming retreat.
354. attitudes willing to mold, change, becoming what God is teaching them to be.

the hard thanks:
355. pain.
356. chastisement.
357. growing pains.
358. realizing that there are needs i was unaware of.
359. wondering how it will all get done.
360. realizing how much i don’t depend on God to meet those needs!
361. marriages that are suffering, yet knowing God can redeem them.
362. exhaustion.
363. i am not the all in all. only God. thank God.

*lyrics to "it's good to know" by francesca battistelli

linking with ann's community

God is greater than our best thoughts of Him. . .

2011-11-06T08:03:00.000-05:00

"No matter what we think about God, He is bigger and better than our biggest and best thoughts about Him.

Baron von Hugel: Beware of first clarity; press on to the second clarity.

Robert Browning: Then welcome each rebuff that turns earth's smoothness rough.

Augustine: The house of my soul is too small. Enlarge it, Lord, that you might enter in.

God is greater than our best thoughts of Him, than our best prayers. Lewis recognizes in this fact a source of encouragement to the spiritual pilgrim: no matter how far beneath God our best thoughts of Him, no matter how feeble our prayers, He still accepts us and receives to Himself those very thoughts and prayers, accepting us as we are."

excerpts from The Soul of C.S. Lewis by Martindale, Root, and Washington

All prayers always, taken at their word, blaspheme,
Invoking with frail imageries a folk-lore dream. . .
Take not, oh Lord, our literal sense, but in thy great,
Unbroken speech our halting metaphor translate.
~ C.S. Lewis

“Heaven is my throne, and the earth is my footstool. Could you build me a temple as good as that?” asks the Lord. “Could you build me such a resting place? Didn’t my hands make both heaven and earth?”
~ Acts 7:49-50

remember

2011-11-04T06:44:00.002-04:00

happy friday, everyone! hoping this finds you well,

my friends. this is my five-minute friday post,

where the goal is to just write. . . freely. unedited,

no tweaking allowed. just write what's on my heart.

i'm excited about this week's prompt, because

of the many directions it could take a person.

the prompt: REMEMBER.

have a great weekend!

i remember it like it was yesterday.
vbs at my church, my un-churched friend sitting right next to me.

and the lady who spoke, all curly hair and big smile,
with eyes that lit up every time we came to her room for the story.

i was all of eight.
innocent eight?

but she spoke of the Lamb, and the great
sacrifice He made.

for me.

and she spoke of the gift that He offered in return,
if only i had the courage to ask.

and with heart racing and palms sweating
i couldn’t help but raise my hand when she asked if anyone

yes, anyone
wanted to ask this great God into his or her heart.

i remember.

i didn’t care what my friend thought
or if she’d make fun of me later.

i just knew that right then
right there

i had a decision to make.

and i wasn’t going to be left behind.
i wanted to be remembered when the time came.

i still love God.
followed Him from that time forward.

but there are times
when other voices try to assault

and guilt still lays claim to my heart
along with its good friend shame.

and i hear the still small voice
whispering

REMEMBER.
you are Mine.

STOP

conjoined

2011-11-02T07:04:00.004-04:00

{photo credit}

our shoes made the familiar taps and squeaks as we walked the vinyl floors. no approach made silent in this world. a trio of blue, embarking on the hushed, the whispered.

she reached for the door, and flipped the switch. oh, if walls could speak. what would these four say? and oh, if they could see. what all have they beheld?

the bassinet sat quietly, settled. out of place.
this room. void of warmth. void of life. out of place.

they lay together, facing one another. siblings. perfect.
joined from trunk to cord, opposite arms resting on the shoulder of the other. . . an embrace.

one heart. two lives. and it wasn’t enough.

it wasn’t enough to sustain them. it couldn’t feed them both the lifeblood they needed. it couldn’t hold life. once the womb could contain them no longer, neither could this world.

and though a mama’s heart can tear right in two, it can’t be given up for the taking.

and i think of them now. together. separate.
do their hearts still beat as one? do they look at each other and know?

if i had the gift of an artist i’d paint them both in hues of bright blue and purple. reaching for each other, while reaching for the sky. sun pouring down right over them. . .warming their cool skin and making it glow.

with a beating red heart in between.

as the door shut behind us, we whispered awe at their beauty. grief at the loss. a yearning to soothe the hurt. . .

. . .and i wonder about other stories, though i've seen my fair share. if only walls could tell.

{and i continue to wonder, in this world i find myself, how many deaths of the oh-so-young can one person witness and continue on? "they" say it is the gift of the nurse. the ability to manage. to take it all in. yet throw it all off. and still. i wonder.
yes, God's grace.}

sharing with the communities of Jen and Emily today.

relevant--a five-minute friday post

2011-10-28T06:35:00.002-04:00

{photo credit}

i’ve spent the better part of the last twelve days viewing life from either the recliner or the couch. nursing pulled muscles that finally gave in to all the tension they were holding. it’s been anything but pretty.

and giving in to what some would say is already a compulsive tendency to over-obsess, i’ve been making some observations. about life as it moves and flows around me. and what’s relevant.

and during this time, a couple of things have taken place that have shaken my world a bit. made me stop and think about what is relevant in our day-to-day routine.

love God first.
love God best.
love Him with all our heart, soul, and strength.

that is what’s relevant.

everything else comes second. everything else comes last.

keeping what’s relevant first is what keeps everything else in its proper perspective.

perspective, perspective, perspective. in one way mine hasn’t changed much in the last twelve days.

but in another, i feel like i’m looking at a whole new world. and that’s quite relevant.

yay! it's friday. . . once again :-)

joining up with the community over at Lisa Jo's to

talk about the theme of: RELEVANT.

have a great weekend!

finding hope

2011-10-26T12:56:00.002-04:00

the gray of the dawn reaches
its fingers ever grasping
taking hold
attempting to embrace.

i can feel its coldness
seeping around the edges
as i pull tight
the warmth of the night.

i cling.
and push back.
for reality’s darkness
threatens my fantastic dawn.

i must meet
but my greeting is
half-hearted, bemoaning
at best.

where is hope?
in the everyday worries
in the mundane tasks
that call me to attention.

when the four walls
threaten, once again
to consume me with their
every concern, as if they can speak.

when i am drowning
in the waters that pour forth
from gates unlocked
and hearts torn fresh.

but this, this is why
One left behind
to console
to walk beside.

and through the gray
breaks a light
and in the light
i sit.

and the music,
it plays.
and my fingers
are warmed.

and the strains so familiar
well up and fill the room
and me, all alone
with just Him.

and Hope arrives.

and i can hear.
and i can play.
and this,
this i know.

it is well.
it is well.
it is oh, oh, so well.
with my very soul.

{linking with emily's community this day}

hope born

2011-10-25T05:38:00.000-04:00

*well, can you believe Jamie asked me back for a second

post about hope on her thirty-one day journey?

what an honor. and privilege.

this is the second post i'll be sharing about my kids.

about the beginnings of their own stories of hope.

{the last two will be right here at my place}

the beginning of young womanhood
brought years and years of physical pain
and finally surgery
after surgery.

and as most young ladies
i had hopes
and dreams
of family one day.

the doctors were brutal
in their honesty
“don’t expect it, don’t hope for it
for it just might never happen.”

but God. . .

{you can read the rest over at Jamie's place. i hope you'll check her place out
with all of the encouragement she offers.
thanks so much, Jamie, for the privilege to share your space.}

the viewing range of a tv screen?

2011-10-24T03:24:00.000-04:00

{photo credit}

we went to look for a new tv. sounds harmless, right? but we had not bought one in over fifteen years. we didn’t know there were now “requirements” with the buying of one.

we knew the salesman, so there was lots of chatter to begin the conversation. i was struck. by a 2x4. when he began talking about the ideal viewing range. and how that related to the size of the tv we were thinking of purchasing.

i can’t remember the exact measurements he gave us. but here’s the idea: you need a certain size depending on the distance from which you will be viewing. because here’s the thing: you don’t want anything in your periphery distracting you from the images on the tv screen.

did you catch that? you don’t want anything in your periphery distracting you from the screen.

i looked at him, and probably due to my familiarity with him, i said, “are you kidding me?” he simply smiled, of course, like i was the amateur i am, and explained the “science” behind it. while all the time i was thinking to myself, it’s no wonder kids of today are distracted beyond reason, cannot focus worth anything, and won’t take the time to answer when spoken to.

when you spend that much time ignoring your periphery, you kind of get used to it. and you develop habits based on it. and i’m not sure what the current statistics are, but a lot of time is being spent in front of TVs these days.

so we left the store with our new tv. one much smaller than he would have recommended. because i didn’t want my kids to feel consumed by this screen with images that threaten to leap out for all the real color and action that almost seem to jump from its vertical plane. i will admit they’ve come a lonnnng way. baby. (sorry, you have to be certain age to understand that reference)

but it got me thinking. on two things.

first—that my focus on God be within the “correct measurements.” so focused. so close-up. that i’m not distracted by those things within the periphery that would steal away my attention from Him. for i’ve noticed that when i scooch up close to my tv, that man was right. it’s almost like i’ve jumped into the screen, almost like i’m a part of that world. . . and everything around me disappears.

that’s how i want to be with God. non-distractible.

second—i don’t want to be so consumed with my current circumstances, so close-up to my current surroundings, that i don’t notice the periphery of my life. there ARE other things that need attention besides schooling, housework, cleaning. . . . and if i don’t take the time to look around, notice the periphery, then i just might miss opportunities to join God in what He is doing elsewhere.

i really enjoy our new tv. it’s great for watching football, baseball. . . playing Wii games here and there. and of course the educational possibilities (can you say suuuweeet?)—but really, who knew the buying of it would provide so much insight into so many life lessons?

but it has its place. its little place in the corner. the periphery. and that’s just where i like it.

linking up with jen

weekends are for wondering

2011-10-23T05:00:00.000-04:00

wondering why i still am awakening at three in the morning in need of an ice pack six days later.

wondering why no one else understands my need for new reading material at these wee hours of the morning. {come on friends, is blogging not your weekend priority?}

wondering why the first time in weeks that i would actually be able to sit through the teaching time at church. . . i’m gonna miss it.

wondering how long self-pity resides before finally being conquered by the “voice of vanquishing.”

wondering just how much one can accomplish from the couch. . . or the recliner. . . or multiple other places i find myself in an effort to get comfortable.

wondering how long my patience will last this day before i’m crying for mercy before a God who contains boundless amounts of it. and wondering that i should just give it up and start the day by crying out.

wondering, wondering, wondering.

wondering how the Word is fresh and living each and every time i read it. really, how DOES He accomplish that? this mystery, it holds me, captivated. wondering.

wondering how much i don’t really know about Him. wondering how much more He desires yet to reveal. how much He cannot reveal.

wondering at the revealing.

i sit. i lie. with the ice pack’s cold. penetrating. soothing. totally, inexplicably. . . in wonder.

beyond myself

2011-10-21T06:23:00.001-04:00

can anyone else give a shout-out that it's friday? wahoo!

and that means it's time for five-minute friday. . . a time to write

without editing, tweaking, looking for just the right words.

have i mentioned that i love fridays?????

and tonight i'm celebrating the 40th birthday of a friend

at the francesca battistelli concert with a bunch of

girlfriends. it doesn't get much better than that :-)

hope you have a great friday, too!

this week's prompt: BEYOND

i am stuck within myself. looking from behind glasses that color my every thought, every view.

and quite frankly, i begin to despise the perspective.

i want to learn to get out. live beyond my limited boundaries. live beyond what is known, what is familiar, what is safe.

no, i’m not talking about anything extreme here.

just things beyond my everyday, non-challenged, comfortable way of thinking.

i need to go beyond.

take the time to consider other perspectives. take the time to consider that maybe, just maybe, i’m looking at God through the wrong pair of spectacles.

that maybe my amusing needs to go a bit beyond at times. . . to simply musing. that the life of thought and study needs a bit more attention in my life. beyond dishes, and teaching, and laundry, and nursing, and friending, and “wifing”, and the everyday weariness that threatens to engulf me.

yep. somehow, in the everyday. in the driving from place to place, the making of meals, the serving of family, the engaging of the young. . . there is a way to incorporate going a bit beyond.

thank God, though, that in my quest for the “beyond”: He dwells in the here and now, as well. for at the moment, that is where i seem to find myself most.

STOP

when our sin finds us out

2011-10-19T07:04:00.003-04:00

{or our parents}

i don’t remember my exact age, although i remember definitely knowing it was wrong.
my dad always told me to never dump trash in the garbage can without first putting a bag in it.
but i was in a hurry.
in such a hurry, i don’t even remember what for.

then trash day came. and i still remember the look on his face. and the way the garbage can looked after a week of garbage sitting at the bottom.
gross. disgusting. stuff growing way down there at the bottom of the black can.
and the smell. stuff gone bad stinks.

“who did this?”

there were only two options, and of course my brother denied it. and of course i denied it, too. and my father, he looked at us both, nodded his head. . . and let conviction work its way into the guilty heart.

i pray sin will find my kids out. that conviction will come knocking fast and hard when they stray from what they know is right.
for i was literally sick by the time i went to my dad, all puddles of tears, and frog-in-my-throated. . . confessing and begging for forgiveness all in one breath. and it didn’t matter that he promptly sent me to clean out that stinky, old, black garbage can with a soapy sponge and hose to spray clean. all by myself. scary stuff. did i mention stuff gone bad stinks??? and looks just as bad?

but i was fresh.

freshly forgiven. by my dad and my God.

for does He not choose to leave all ninety-nine of a hundred sheep on the mountain if one of them has gone astray, and go in search of that one. . . in order that not even one should perish? not even one should be separated from Him?

and this is what happens when our sin is found out. we are given the chance to be restored. for our tears to be wiped and the renting of our hearts to be mended. the gap bridged once more. relationship righted.

“but God, being rich in mercy, because of the great

love with which He loved us,

even when we were dead in our trespasses,

made us alive together with Christ. . .”

Ephesians 2:4-5

ah, i just love God.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

hope reborn

2011-10-17T05:33:00.000-04:00

remember that thirty-one days post i wrote? all those people, choosing to write on one topic for thirty-one days straight?
one that i’ve been enjoying has been on the topic of hope (i know, no surprise there).

well today, Jamie is hosting me on her site. i’ve come to realize how significant my kids’ stories are in relation to my life’s story in the area of hope. and i’m sharing one of those at Jamie’s today.

i chose to write first about my second-born. her story beats near and dear to my heart as i have often realized all that was involved in her being here. her life. i’m excited to share her story with you.

********************

some people don’t call it a baby at ten weeks
but when you know that life begins at conception
a baby it is
and so is the loss.

i missed the six-week appointment
i had the flu
stomach
more coming up than staying down.

when i finally saw the doctor
i remember the shock
the missing heartbeat
mine, too.

{please join me at Jamie’s and read the rest of the story HERE}

continuing to count my 1000 gifts:

335. the gift of my kids and each of their unique stories.
336. time getting to know new people and families this past weekend.
337. gut-busting laughter. the kind that makes your sides hurt.
338. no rain while camping (well, after the initial setting up of some friends’ tent!).
339. hope this week, for a lighter load.
340. time with old friends, too.
341. how God uses others to reveal more about ourselves.
342. revealing of truth.
343. coming home to more family.
344. the contemplation of Christmas plans already, and the celebration therein.
345. the way God continues to build this house and marriage. . . and henceforth, the family. i love it, even when it’s hard.

catch! (a five-minute friday post)

2011-10-14T06:45:00.000-04:00

yay!!! it's five-minute friday--again. amazing how that comes by, every week, eh?

this exercise continues to improve my writing, i am convinced.

i probably should try it on my own, with my own topics, on occasion.

this week's topic: CATCH!

it came easy for me, immediately bringing a mental image.

i love it when that happens.

hope you have a beautiful weekend!

sometimes i wonder if You’re sitting up there with a catcher’s mitt, for that is surely what You spend most of your time doing with me.

this week i was in a free-fall. or was i plummeting. or maybe spinning out-of-control through the air as if someone had hit my wing tip specifically in order to see just what kind of chaos they could cause.

and there You stood. ready to catch me.

it is both a comfort. and a humbling. and a reminder—that i am in desperate need of a “catcher” in my life. that there are traps and snares. . . and never mind the simple clutter that just quite simply grabs my toe and causes. me. to. trip.

so. thank You. thank You for always being there. when i am disoriented, have no idea what i’m headed for, have no idea what i’m about to crash into. . . thank You for reaching for me and catching me.

oh, if i had not that safe place to land. where would i be?

You give me courage. to live. not in fear. but in faith.

knowing that there You stand. always standing by. always standing by ME. just waiting.

waiting to catch when i happen to fall.

STOP

i just love God

2011-10-12T06:33:00.002-04:00

“i just love God.”
and even though she’s ending this via e-mail
i can hear it just as if she’s said it.

and her reason on this particular day?
hope.
pure. simple. the revealing of who He is.

and i sit at the kitchen counter drinking my morning coffee
and the fridge
it is filled with new signs.

and from Jeremiah the words are carefully penned by a daughter whose life, in so many ways, is the showing of my hope:

“can anyone hide in secret places
so that i cannot see him?
do not i fill heaven and earth, declares the Lord?”

and even as the sun has yet to rise
and life still waits in slumber
the hope. . . it surrounds.

for it is not an impersonal God that waits for me each morning
One who holds Himself aloof
distant. remote. locked away in some mystery-held box.

no, this God—He calls. He woos.
He holds, even as He holds the entire world.
and there i find space to rest.

this God who made the one-way street
a very personal two-way
so we could meet each other.

i can almost see His arms stretch out wide, toward me
and there is the hope.
for i am never out of his reach.

and i find that this morning
this dark, before-the-kids-get-up, quiet morning. . .
“i love God, too.”

i have enjoyed this song by Peter Furler, but when i found the live version

i just had to share it as the inspiration for this post.

his voice is beautiful, poignant. i hope you’ll enjoy listening.

“Reach”

sharing today with communities at Ann's and Emily's

paint me a picture. . . with words!!!

2011-10-11T08:53:00.001-04:00

we’ve all heard that a picture can be worth a thousand words.
just as true: a few well-chosen words can paint a picture rich with meaning, enlightenment, and understanding.

“they” say that men need word pictures. it helps them to understand what their wives are saying. these creatures-turned-women-who-they-really-don’t-understand.
i tried it.

not just once, either.

i think my husband is simply more of a concrete thinker.
and painting a picture with words just confused the actual issue. it began to feel like we were ~~arguing about~~ discussing the word picture rather than the topic at hand.

so i quit using them with him.

but i tried again with my kids.

and i think it has worked more effectively.

telling my child i had a headache when she was a little girl did not have much meaning. . . when she’d never had one herself.
but telling her my head felt as if a hundred little men with jackhammers were pounding away inside my head. . . well, that gave her something to chew on and think about. something she might have been able to imagine would be a bit uncomfortable. if nothing else, she knew it was noisy and made the car vibrate when we passed people using them on the interstate.

simply telling my kids i was tired and needed a few minutes to just be. . . this had no meaning to them. they couldn’t (and still really can’t) understand my need to ever be alone. they don’t have that same need. they’re kind of like their dad in that respect. but when i explained it like a car running out of gas (i wrote about it here), the older ones, at least, had a much better understanding of where i was coming from.

hear this: “i feel like i got hit by a mac truck, it came back to see what it hit, and ran over me again!” see? those words leave no doubt in your mind as to how i'm feeling, do they?

it’s not that we always have to go around trying to put everything into word pictures. but it can be a fun exercise. and it can help kids start to put words to their thoughts and emotions, when they otherwise might feel stuck.

the only down side of a word picture: the chance of it backfiring. . . because there is always a second party involved, which means: interpretation. when i say something is as difficult as climbing Mt. Everest, you may think that’s only moderately hard on the difficulty scale. when i say something grates like clanging symbols, you may think those are sweet sounds, indeed. and when i say your words hurt me like daggers, you may be simply intrigued by the thought of medieval times & weaponry. i find this to be especially true when the communication is taking place across gender lines. as with all communication, unfortunately, you run the risk of MIScommunication.

but it’s still worth a try. still worth the effort. still worth working at making something better than it was, bringing greater understanding into a relationship and. . . . painting a beautiful picture with words!

sharing with:

thirty-one days

2011-10-09T06:38:00.001-04:00

if you’ve been getting around blogging world much, you might have run across some of these people who have chosen to blog on the same topic for the thirty-one days of october.

i discovered this little {read: big} thing happening on october first. and i breathed a sigh of relief.

for if i had heard of it earlier, i can only imagine the thoughts that would have been swirling through my mind. the angst. the contemplation. I mean, really, who wouldn’t want to join some of these fine minds in writing on something i’m passionate about for thirty-one days straight?

i almost threw up at just the thought.

and how God saved me from even having to think about it. truly.

don’t get me wrong. i’m not mocking these writers in any way, shape, or form. quite the opposite--i'm totally impressed. in fact, i perused the list, signed up to receive a few of the writings straight into my e-mail inbox because they seemed so pertinent to various things in my life. and i’m loving the reading each and every day.

but as i contemplated what i would have written on for thirty-one (did i mention it’s thirty-one days straight???), this is all i could come up with:

“31 Tales from the Toilet ” (where all moms think best, right?)

“31 Days Post-Perfectionism” (but i couldn’t get the first posting just right)

“31 Days Past Procrastination” (but how to even start that one???)

and then my favorite:

“31 Days Sans Sarcasm” (since i’ve not been able to keep my new year’s resolution regarding this for, ummm, three years now, i have a feeling this venture would have died quickly)

well, none of those seemed blog-worthy, anyway, so i guess i’m hugely relieved i missed the thirty-one day challenge this year. but the unfortunate thing is that it’s on my radar for next year. . . . .

do not despise the ordinary

2011-10-07T16:15:00.000-04:00

happy friday! no, i'm not confused today. i just decided to post

my five-minute friday post on my other blog. the one pitifully neglected,

as my daughters continually remind me. and, since the post

is addressed to them, it seemed appropriate.

if you're interested, you can find it HERE.

have a great weekend!

wash over me

2011-10-05T12:01:00.000-04:00

wash over me
cover me
clean me
grace-filled rivulets streaming down.

wash over me
completely
exquisitely
daily mercies found new in the morn.

wash over me
salt-stained
blood-let
your sacrifice complete.

oh, God, wash over me
purely
sufficiently
that i might lift my head.

photo credit

sharing with Emily & others:

and now . . . as you wish

2011-10-04T06:23:00.004-04:00

we sat over a meal, coffee, dessert. talking the hours away. our girls were happily occupied elsewhere and we had this golden moment in time, just the two of us, to catch up on all things key to sanity.

laughter, tears, and i will admit. . . we weren’t short on whining, either.
i’m not proud of that. just sayin’.

and as i recall bits and pieces of the conversation, i remember a lot of this: “i wish _____”, and “i just wish ______”, and “i so wish that _________.”

i can’t even begin to remember what filled in all the blanks for after all of that glorious time together, two adult women who homeschool and don’t get enough adult conversation (smile). . . well, let me just say there was a lot of wishing and a lot of filling in the blanks!

a lot of it had to do with our kids. and our houses. and our imperfect selves. and our lack of grace with the aforementioned things.

and then there were the expectations. of ourselves. of our kids. of our marriages. of others. of God.

i read on another blog this week: expectation. . . another name for premeditated resentment.

and i had to wonder, is that what i’m setting myself up for with all of this “wishing?” resentment? bitterness?

for believe me when i say my expectations are herculean at times. and even if i had my very own farm boy at my beck and call saying "as you wish" every time i needed something. . . i don’t think i would be satisfied.

the expectations would still overcome me, still be the arrows that point to my own inadequacies, still be the nails that drive home my need for a Savior.

and so we worked our way through these things, stoked a few strategies, shared a lot of grace, and wiped the tears with the napkins. i’ve never been happier for such an inattentive waitress.

and though we laughed our way down an organizational aisle at Target, and i said it rather jokingly about a set of cubbies i’ve had my eye on for months and really, really wanted but felt i needed to wait on at the moment--i really, really meant it when i said. . . “the only thing i need to solve all of my problems is Jesus.”

now i’ll admit to one last, longing gaze as we turned the corner, and continued our way through the store. i can’t be sure, but it seemed i might have heard a small, “as you wish” just as we cleared the aisle. . .
waiting to see.

and here. . . how to r.e.l.a.x.

2011-10-03T08:23:00.001-04:00

grab a man (husbands only)
hook up the pop-up tent (or camper, rv, or other source of habitation)
leave the kids with someone that can be trusted
and head to one incredible place on God’s earth.

when you get there, get your stuff set up
get a campfire started early
play some music to help drown out the nearby construction noise
and breathe a minute while wondering what the kids are up to.

enjoy a fire-cooked steak
some potatoes on the side
key lime pie for dessert
then with the music still playing and the fire dancing. . .

fan the flames of love.

in the still of the night
with no souls nearby
just talk
and expect God to show up.

have the courage to speak the harder words
words like wants, needs, and selfishness
but speak them right alongside love, commitment, and tenderness
and then remind each other that you’d do it all over again.

the comfort in the silence
the reassurance in the heat
and as the light dances and the fire burns out
just revel in what God calls good.

continuing to count gifts:

322. the quiet.
323. the conversation that never ends.
324. the grace in the face of difficult words.
325. the beauty that surrounds.
326. the fact that God spoke and it simply was.
327. the peace in the chaos.
328. the comfort in the pain.
329. the relaxation, even in the stress.
330. the answers in the face of questions.
331. the friend that meets me half way.
332. the friend that has courage to speak when she wants to remain quiet.
333. the vibrancy that my children exude.
334. my children's willingness to share of themselves with those around them.
335. the moments of God showing Himself. always showing Himself. to me.

linking up with Ann and Laura

unbroken

2011-09-28T06:03:00.001-04:00

hope. . . always the hope.

thank you so much for the encouragement over the last day.

"Remember, our Message is not about ourselves; we're proclaiming Jesus Christ, the Master. All we are is messengers, errand runners from Jesus for you. It started when God said, "Light up the darkness!" and our lives filled up with light as we saw and understood God in the face of Christ, all bright and beautiful. If you only look at us, you might well miss the brightness. We carry this precious Message around in the unadorned clay pots of our ordinary lives. That's to prevent anyone from confusing God's incomparable power with us. As it is, there's not much chance of that. You know for yourselves that we're not much to look at. We've been surrounded and battered by troubles, but we're not demoralized; we're not sure what to do, but we know that God knows what to do; we've been spiritually terrorized, but God hasn't left our side; we've been thrown down, but we haven't broken."

2 Corinthians 4:5-9 (from the Message)

taking a few days and finding some refuge with hubby.

be back at the end of the week. enjoy yours!

Plumb’s new song “Drifting”