Author: admin

I Belong

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Sticks in a bundle are unbreakable – Bondai People Proverb

Recently I sat with a sweet friend who began to share some of her life story with me. I wept as the horrific details spilled out. It was more than I could almost fathom as she shared of her childhood and the shattered life she had endured and somehow miraculously survived. Her tween and teen years were saturated with ongoing abuse and pain. I felt like vomiting as I listened to her share. My heart broke for her. For many nights after I could not sleep just reliving what she had shared.

I first met her many years ago. She stepped into my circle when we both had babies, when her family began to attend my church. I remember meeting her and distinctly remember enjoying her sweet, kind personality. What I did not know, is the horrid things that were happening to her inside what should have been safe and welcoming walls of that church. It was not what Jesus called us his bride, the church, to be – a hospital for the sick.

People who had no idea of the magnitude of her trauma constantly taunted and belittled her, driving the lies of the enemy deeper into her soul. The words “you don’t belong here” were physically spoken to her in multiple situations.

I can not fathom what prompted such a response from people professing to love and follow Jesus. It made and continues to make me angry. I know the people behind some of those comments and I want to walk up and shake and scold them. I know we are human and make mistakes. But when are we as the church of Jesus going to come together and be what HE called us to be?

The enemy of our souls is absolutely delighted when he sees these kinds of stories unfolding. He wants more than ever to keep each of us bound up in the lies we begin to believe, thinking there is no place we really belong. Truth is, we don’t really belong here. But while our home is heaven, we are called to be a body of believers (a place of belonging) here who binds up the wounds of others, encourages one another and walks in true holiness like Jesus with skin on.

Recently some personal events in my life, sent me on a spiral to a deep pit of discouragement which I did not like to be stuck in. The voices in my head tormented me with the lies of the evil one convincing me that I did not really have a place or group where I really belonged.

Realizing this was not a place I wanted to stay, I reached up and out and through a series of events, God has connected me in some pretty amazing ways to people who struggled along side me and helped me crawl up out of that dark place. He also brought resources like my pretty much all time favorite book, “Find Your People” by Jeannie Allen and somehow surrounded me with a magnificent army of prayer warriors who pray me through anything.

I still struggle with darkness at times. I think we all do if we are honest. The battle is real and continues to rage until we get to heaven! I know now who my people are and where I belong. Do I still have ugly bouts of insecurity? Yup! But I am finding more confidence and help in refuting the enemies’ lies with God’s truths!

And, I am placing myself on active duty in the war against hurt and pain that happens inside God’s hospital for the sick. As I continue to think and pray about this issue, the question that keeps popping up is this: What if we as a church greeted people with “Let me hear your story…” instead of shooting those evil, self righteous, nauseating to the heart of God, arrows of ” You don’t belong here…” What if instead of looking down our noses at people who are different from us, we embraced them as the beautiful creations of God that they are and made every effort to walk with them in their messy pain and trauma.

We are all messy. We all face defeat and discouragement but as members of God’s family we do have a place where we are known and loved and where we really do belong!

The Best Prize

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“The days are long but the years are short “- Gretchen Rubin

Nobody ever mentioned to me when I was in the thick of exhaustion in the jungles of diaper changing, wiping 4 snotty noses and toting a million pound diaper bag on my hip that while those days were busy and hard, how equally hard it would be to be standing at the brink of new phases in my children’s lives like the one I am currently in.

I officially have a high school senior. And while I could be in much “older” phases and stages, here is where I am, thanks to 8 years of infertility. I love where we are. It is so much fun watching my children fashion themselves into the free thinking, unique, amazing almost adults that God has created them to be.

It’s really started sinking in that my birdies are so much closer to stretching their wings and flying from the nice safe nest we have provided for them. As I ponder that, part of me worries that I didn’t do enough to prepare them for life and that maybe they won’t be successful in their endeavors which will of course reflect my parenting. But, this! this time, this very age and stage is part of their own God given journey. As I reflect a little deeper, I know that our biggest goal has been to raise God honoring beautiful humans who will carry HIS love into our dark and often hopeless world.

Why haven’t I heard much about this stage? Maybe I wasn’t listening well? I realize that this stage is so much more “private” then the stages of posting the funny quotes of my 3 or 4 year old. Now mom’s Instagram is suddenly old school and I post more cautiously so as to protect and hopefully not embarrass my loves. Watching them navigate new relationships and praying more fervently then ever that God will bless them in their quests as they honor him is suddenly not really about me at all. The fun and sometimes outright amazing scoop on those relationships is not mine to spill.

I have one more school year with my oldest then she’s got plans that quite frankly terrify my on one hand and make me so proud I could burst on the other. I already set some boundaries on my calendar for the next year. I want to be more present, a lesson I never thought I’d need to relearn. I am looking for those memory making special opportunities like the one I happened upon this week. It’s so simple, it made me feel silly at its obviousness.

Recently I attended a party where we were invited to take a jar of homemade salsa for the birthday girl to judge. I used to be known for my salsa and really did enjoy making it! But I got busy. Low and behold out of the 8 entries, my salsa was picked by the birthday girl as “the winner”. I told my family as they hungrily watched me spoon the last spoonfuls into the jar that they could have the leftovers.

There really wasn’t any left and I heard my family muttering in the background about who was going to be the lucky one to finish the remaining bites of mom’s prize winning salsa. Over the next few days I made more to take to a dinner and again heard the wishes of those I love most who still were hungry for my salsa.

Tonight it hit me how simple it would be to make a batch for them, so I did. I chopped and diced and added all my secret ingredients because somehow like my mama before me, my recipes don’t always seem to turn out so well when I try to relay to my kiddos how to make them. I put it on the top shelf of the fridge with a note that said “because I love you…”

You should have heard the squeals when it was discovered.

The best things in life are like that. Simple. Mundane sometimes. Little. Not necessarily prize winning but important none the less.

Impossible Possibility

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Recently something happened in my day that gave me a flashback to some pretty scary moments that happened over two decades ago. Lowell & I were serving as missionaries in Haiti where we lived close to the beautiful Caribbean, far out in the boondocks away from the civilized world we were used to here at home. Electricity came and went and warm showers were a treat. Mostly we enjoyed the beautiful countryside, learning another language, rice, beans and goat from the roadside stand, and year around sunshine.

We had been there several months when I got super sick with what ended up being malaria. Lowell had gone out into the fields to help on a project, leaving me alone. I knew I was pretty sick and when the thermometer beeped at 103.8 I knew I had to get help as nothing I was doing to help myself was working. With blurred vision, I wobbled out to the closest working truck and climbed in praying that God would let me find Lowell. I don’t remember a lot of the rest of that day. I just knew I was ever so cold from the air conditioner blasting on me as Lowell and our mission director, Leon bounced me along the almost impassable road on what normally was a 3 hour trip to the closest American doctor and his mission hospital. My tongue refused to cooperate when Lowell asked me questions. I was trapped alone in my head which was throbbing with pain unlike I had ever experienced before. I do remember telling Lowell that if I died, I didn’t want to be buried in Haiti. He struggled to understand what I was saying and kept trying to yank whatever covers I could secure away from my tight grasp. As we bumped along, the words from a song I knew and loved ran through my mind….”God likes to work when nothing else will. God likes to work when your back’s to the wall. When faith’s in the balance and you’re just about to fall…. They’ll be no mistaking when he blesses and heals….God likes to work when nothing else will.” They tell me I actually was humming in my delirium and it makes sense because even though all else is fuzzy, that song was on constant replay. When we finally got to the hospital compound, they gave me meds and finally let me have a small blanket. I have a faint recollection of the kind doctor praying as he checked me over. Then I was asleep.

When I awoke late the next morning, my fever had finally broken. My road to recovery was not easy but God did choose to allow complete healing.

I have thought back to those moments many times and have often referred to them as one of my Rock Ebeneezer moments, those spaces in time where God shows himself faithful despite what looks like impossibility. Living in a third world country provided many occasions to realize how necessary it is to see God for who HE really is! When the comforts we are accustomed to are not readily available or easily accessible, we are often “forced” into trust which is really where we should “land” first. After all, our Creator God, Abba Father and Divine Healer is much more capable than any human sources we may surround ourselves with. HE is so good…

Here’s a link to”my” song 😉

Luke 1:37 – For with God NOTHING shall be impossible…

Psalm 138:7 Though I walk in the midst of trouble, thou wilt revive me: thou shalt stretch forth thine hand against the wrath of mine enemies, and thy right hand shall save me.…

On a side note, the country of Haiti is currently in a time of tremendous unrest leaving most missions unable to be in the country to minister. Pray for the safety of our Haitian brothers and sisters and wisdom for the missions God has called to that hurting country!

Peopling

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I am married to a dear man who creates his own words. As I was pondering the title of this particular writing, I decided to look into if peopling was actually a word or if hubby was wearing off on me.

The Urban Dictionary notes peopling as the ability to tolerate people and their stupidity as well as your own stupidity in a public place. Hmmm. Not all that flattering of a definition. I like to think of “peopling” as being out and about mingling and interacting.

As a younger me, my sanguine self was quite adept at peopling, content to flit about hither and yon interjecting my bubbly self into many unique and fun settings, making action happen if life was to quiet. If all else failed I could always bring a scone or some of my fresh salsa and life would be right side up again. As I have gotten older, my desires to mingle and interact have morphed into different and sometimes unfamiliar shapes. The past decade has brought several major life traumas to our family necessitating huge changes in locale for us which resulted in uprooting and needing to readjust to new faces and places. This, if I am completely honest has been brutal for my 40 something brain to process and cope with. Starting over with friendships on quite a few levels has been overwhelming. It’s not easy breaking into circles that have been established for long periods of time, sometimes decades. I have compared myself to the Israelites after they left their bondage in Egypt. I know with out a shadow of a doubt that we are in much healthier places but I still miss the “leeks and the garlic” of Egypt which were the established comfortable routines like having monthly planned activities with other families and friends, having persons who love and appreciate my scones, and having someone to go camping with in the summer time. Being older and tireder and wondering what I have to offer, plagues the epicenter of my thoughts as I dream of being settled and comfortable in relationships.

Now I am not over here in some black hole but some days I am sad at how lonely I feel. (Important Side Note: I promise I do have a real friend or two.) As I have come to grips with the current season, I have become more aware and intentional. I listen and watch and hear other people’s hearts and the scary and sad, but somewhat hopeful in a very strange way thing is, I am not alone in this. People are lonely. People around me are lonely. People who sit around me at church, in my job, at my kids’ school are lonely. Loneliness is reaching epidemic levels. How do I know? People have told me so. Some say it just like that. Others say it more subtly. People are even writing books about it. Jennie Allen in her book “Find Your People” says this – God said it after he made the first man. It is not good for man to be alone. So, as messy as relationships might be, we can not live life alone. Allen goes on to share ways to find your circle of people.

I have often thought with humor about how it might look to run an ad for friendship with the same theme as those singles ads that used to run in the Sunday paper. Wanted: Family Friendships. Prefer imperfect family units. Grumpy dads and helicopter moms acceptable. Love of camping, porch sitting, low country boils, veggie tales music and nut pickout nights a plus. Or Wanted: Christ Honoring Female Friendship. Prefers slightly bulgy, non perfect 35-65 year old female. Listening skills a plus. Must love Jesus, speaking the truth in love and celebrating life events together.

If it were only that easy right?!

One of the issues we face is we are to busy. Way to busy.

Secondly, we live in an era where 500 or even a 1,000 social media friends is the norm. Sadly, 100 likes on a post is not even any where close in value to a simple conversation in person with a real honest to goodness unadulterated person. We have become a dehumanized people hiding behind the screens of our phones and laptops where sadly we can say mean and hurtful things and even post anonymously only feeding the giant monster of loneliness and despair.

I am convinced that if each one of us took the time to work on building relationships in person, this epidemic of lonely people would diminish. But how do we do so?

I love what it says in Hebrews 10. Let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds, not giving up the habit of meeting together as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another…

I do not want to take things out of context and I certainly don’t profess to be a deep theological student, digging into the back meanings and greek and hebrew meanings but am more of a words at face value kind of gal. I kinda like how this verse actually just spells some things out. Sound simple? Not exactly. Peopling IS messy, this we know for certain, and takes work but can truly bring about the biggest blessing in a lonely world.

Who’s with me?

What Grief Is Not

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As the ebb and flow of my own personal grief continues, I remain astounded at the fragile sometimes painful ties that bind my heart to others who grieve. 

Conversations especially with other mamas who have lost often turn to what might be our own triggers for the resurfacing of what we thought was done like the way even driving past the giant University of Iowa hospital inevitably brings a fresh inability to breathe.  It doesn’t ever feel silly to express. In those moments each of us is completely understood.

Today for my husband’s hand surgery, we actually parked in the same spot in the endless parking garage where our van had been parked when we had to leave the hospital without her. I remember walking out holding my children’s hands, feeling like I was naked or like I must have forgotten my purse.  

Also noted is the keen awareness of loss when someone we know is experiencing trauma or shattering loss. My sweet friend Gloria, who I have actually not met in person, is living that as I type. She was a faithful prayer warrior as Abby lay connected to tubes and wires. She has checked in on me despite the miles since.  Now her young adult son is fighting for his very life as the result of a tragic accident in snowy Indiana weather over New Years. (prayers appreciated for her son, Collin) Watching her story from afar, rips the band aid off of my own grief and brings remembering the emotions and moments of our own story to the forefront.

Living through tragedy is an unwanted connection with people you may not have even noticed prior. It has often been a lifeline, a blessing in disguise but is not something one would wish on one’s worst enemy. 

Dusting off these emotional boxes of stuff I wish could just vanish, brings to mind things I have indeed learned through the process. People often ask me how to reach out when someone has lost or is living tragedy. While I wish there were a pat answer that would work across the board, there is not. Each of us is uniquely created by God not only physically, but emotionally so what may be helpful to me may mean next to nothing to some one else with similar circumstance. 

Recent conversation has once again freshened some things that remain at the top of the list that I share when someone really wants to know how to best reach out to others who hurt.  

#2. Grief is NOT a time for judgement.  

This is a tough one to navigate. Life has consequences. If my choices include over indulgence in smoking or drinking, my physical body may live out consequences like liver damage. If I choose to be morally “loose” with sexual standards, I may reap the consequence of a sexually transmitted disease. Overeating may result in diabetes or other weight related issues. The list could go on. 

While I do believe that our Creator God is just and as he says in his word we will reap what we sow, I do not believe that it is ever appropriate for us mere mortal humans to judge other humans on these issues especially when that other human has just experienced tremendous loss. 

I do not have the answers as to why Abby had to die at 3 years of age, but I still cringe at the quiet whispers of how it was most likely God’s judgement for our earlier marital separation and my wicked and rebellious spirit. 

I also know my sweet friend’s choice to allow her young adult son to attend a secular university was not the reason for his early demise as a result of nasty cancer. 

Yes, people actually do say these kinds of things. Well meaning or not, they are not words necessary in times such as these!

If you have “judgements” that just must be stated, hide yourself in your closet and talk to God about them! Don’t share them with others and most definitely please have mercy on the hearts of the grieving and don’t break their already fragile hearts into more pieces. 

Judgement is God’s job and HIS alone!

#1. Grief is NOT a time to expect normal.

Patsy Clairmont says it best. “Normal is just a setting on your dryer…”

Nothing will ever be normal after you have lost. 

This can be best explained when we look at those who have lost limbs. Yes, a prosthesis can be helpful! But that arm, leg or those teeth are still never going to be the same and will be daily reminders of what used to be. To expect someone to pop back to their old self is unfair and adds unwarranted punishment to the stress of continual grief. Part of our heart is gone. Life won’t ever be normal.

Grief is a time for you to muster all the care and kindness your soul has to offer and asking God for more when you start to feel emptied out .  It is checking in on folks in the weeks and months that follow, not just the day of the funeral. Pray. Take a favorite meal.  Send a plant. Write a meaningful letter that is not full of cliche things like Heaven got another angel or All things work together for good…It’s ok to say that you don’t know what to say. Let them know you care then watch for ways to be Jesus with skin on.

Most of all truly seek God’s heart on how you can minister best to those who are closest to your corner of the world!

A Spoonful of Comfort

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Today my precious baby should be turning 11. Instead we are in year 7 of her living in Heaven.

Grief has not been gracious to me pound wise. This year, I have taken some drastic steps to change my habits and hopefully my thought process in the kitchen, which has always been a haven to me in different seasons both grief and joy filled. While food is the center of so much, I am finding a new found zest seeing how yummy healthier can actually be!

While learning to turn to God for comfort instead of food, I can’t help but believe that he doesn’t condemn us for enjoying the beauty in the gifts he surrounds us with. I can’t imagine that He wouldn’t enjoy the tastes and smells of a ripe juicy peach or the smell of coffee brewing. After all He is the one who created us with emotions and the responses to them.

Recently I stumbled across a delicious peace crisp that I have been experimenting with. While I am still perfecting it, I found it to yummy to not share. It’s warm fall-ish smells filled my kitchen as it baked and did not disappoint when I scooped the first spoonful into my bowl. I was delighted to see the combination of ingredients contained very little sugar content and is happily gluten free. The nutty crumbly topping is my favorite.

A few things to remember if you try this recipe….

I have tried it with apples and it is equally delightful! Frozen peaches can be used though the end product is more runny. It is best when used exactly as written and with fresh peaches however today I tried maple syrup instead of the brown sugar and while it definitely doesn’t seem to brown as nicely it was still quite amazing.

Without further ado, here is the recipe!

6 peaches

1/3 c honey

2 T. cornstarch

1 t. vanilla

1/2 t cinnamon

Slice peaches and combine all items together in a 9×9 pan.

Topping:

1 c oats

1/2 c almond flour

1/3 c chopped nuts (I use pecans)

1/3 c brown sugar

1 t ginger

1/4 t salt

4 T softened butter

3 1/2 T greek yogurt

Bake at 350 for 35 min OR until crumbs are lightly browned.

Enjoy with a glass of milk or a scoop of Greek yogurt.

Must Have Muffins

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Over the summer, I came face to face with some pretty big decisions. With the last few years being ones I spent very sick, I had acquired quite a few pounds my doctors referred to as Prednisone pounds.

With some of the health challenges I have had, diabetes has been on the radar for quite some time. At my summer physical, my practitioner informed that now was the time to make some changes if I did not want to get to that actual diagnosis.

Since weight has always been a struggle for me, I was overwhelmed to think about what all this might mean for me. I have always enjoyed being in the kitchen. Baking is probably close to my most favorite pass time ever!

As I was praying one morning I opened up my computer and the first thing that came across my screen was an ad for the New Life Promise program. I haven’t ever felt so compelled and hopeful as I watched Isabel explain the setup of her lifestyle plan. So I paid the $49 and started off.

Since then, I have actually discovered how pleasant eating well can be. I am steadily losing pounds (16 at last check after 1 month on plan) and remain amazed at how full I feel. There are no special foods or calorie counting. I have even discovered how I can eat out with my family and friends and still stay focused on the goal. It takes thinking ahead, pre-planning and of course some experimenting.

After the initial phase, I am learning about making things that satisfy my sweet tooth. Most days I don’t feel like I am “dieting” at all even though it takes me a second to refocus when someone offers me a fresh yummy like peach pie. I still keep my Food Meets Faith cookbook on my counter, but am slowly but surely getting into better habits independently, that are so much more helpful to the body God has given me to take care of.

One of the things I keep around at all times is these muffins. Even my children like them. I make a batch each weekend and freeze them so I can easily pull them out for a quick breakfast or a snack to pack in my lunch bag when I head to work.

Almond flour is a bit different to learn how to bake with, but I have found it delish and very filling!

2 1/2 (Needs to be exact!) very ripe Bananas

1 T Softened Coconut Oil

1 egg

1 1/2 c Almond Flour

Pinch of Salt

1/2 t bkg. soda

3/4 c nuts (I use pecans)

1/2 c dark chocolate chips (preferably containing no or very little sugar)

Preheat oven to 350

Grease 8 muffin cups.

Mix all ingredients well and divide into muffin tin.

Bake for 20-25 min or until nicely browned on tops.

Let set in tins for 30 min. Use knife to make sure nothing is stuck before removing from tin.

Enjoy!

To Love and To Flourish

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I have come that they might have life and might have it abundantly…John 10:10

This week as I sat with a new friend, she spoke some words that have been long tumbling about in my heart. They came out something like this…

What if Christ’s church could truly grasp the need for prayer for the marriages in its midst? 

Though I had just officially met her about an hour before, the passion in her eyes and the tears that accompanied her words matched one of the deepest passions in my heart, a passion most likely growing there because of my own marriage’s history. 

If you have been here with me for very long, you may have heard me sharing tidbits of God’s miraculous healing in our marriage. Though we are so very far from perfect, we have come a long way from the two hurting people we were during one of the most difficult seasons of our 24 years together. 

Lowell & I have often pondered the responses of well meaning family and friends during our 11 month separation. We have talked about how things could maybe have taken a different path, had we, in our hurt not helped the social circles around us draw those lines in the sand and “create sides”. While wall building and side taking can seem like natural responses when people we love go through difficult relationships, especially in marriage, this may not be the response that ends up promoting the most healthy outcomes. 

((Now I’m going to stop right here and say that I do firmly believe there are exceptions! If you or someone you love, lives in an abusive marriage where there is physical danger, some “side taking” may need to take place in order to bring the abusive spouse to the help they need.))  

I also am well aware that openly hurting marriages draw attention. People talk and suspect and pass judgement. Of this, I too am guilty.  

But here again, my personal experience kicks in and reminds me of the pain of that judgement in a time when my heart was already in a million teeny tiny pieces. 

My new friend went on to say how she felt that we as Christians need to motivate one another towards flourishing marriages, realizing that it is God’s calling on us to live life (which includes our marriages..) well and not just merely getting by. 

What if we were more transparent with the struggles we face in our marriages? I firmly believe that no matter how well a marriage looks to others, there is still always room for growth and encouragement. My heart has broken again recently as I’ve watched people I love reach the broken place of divorce after appearing “just fine” to those of us around them. 

What if we spent as much time teaching on the healthy gift of God honoring marital sex as we do telling our young people to abstain and wait for marriage? Now I am not saying that great sex is the answer to all marriage problems, but as I have read more of what the Bible says about this amazing gift, I think it could be given a little more attention then it is!  I won’t get on my soapbox right now….

What if we worked as a church to encourage one another in our marriages by finding and providing tools to help marriages thrive?  For Lowell and I, traditional Christian marriage conferences only served as  just another miserable weekend and a space to argue.  Not until we found Mark Gungor’s “Laugh Your Way to a Better Marriage Series”, did we truly begin to understand each other and gain the ability to embrace our differences. Does that mean that particular conference is the only way to encourage marriages?  Absolutely not!  Marriage encouragement just like marriage itself, is NOT one size fits all.  

What if we really did spend more time on our knees for our own marriages and for those marriages around us realizing the miracle containing power our prayers can contain? 

James 5:16 hits the nail on the head where it says, “Confess your faults one to another and pray for one another that you may be healed. The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much….”

As I have said before, I would love to pray for you! And I would love it if you would do the same for me! May our focus be on the one who can indeed cause our lives to flourish!

When Mother’s Day Is Hard….

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I used to love celebrations of most any kind. Don’t get me wrong. I still do. Mostly.

But as I’ve gotten older, the empathy in me has sometimes trumped my love of celebrating. I have struggled with the verse in Romans where it says “Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep”….

What does this mean for us as Christians on days like Mother’s Day?

I have lived in a constant state of ambivalence on how this plays out between the exuberance of new motherhood and the grief of a mom who has lost.

As a new, young wife, my mind was filled with all the ways I might celebrate with my own babies as I watched my friends have 1, 2 or even 3 babies. Where was my blessing? What was the hidden sin preventing God from answering my deepest prayer. For many long years, I avoided church on Mother’s day because no one knows what to do with a wanna be mom on a day that celebrates motherhood. Yet, when my dreams did come true, I felt such guilt and deep sadness, when some close to me shared how my vocal pain had dimmed the joys of their first years of motherhood.

Finally I had my prayers answered. God granted my deepest desire. Then He decided He needed one of my blessings back. Once again I struggled. Well meaning souls reminded me that I should cherish my remaining children. Of course I did/do! But that does not diminish the pain of loss.

I’ve also struggled watching friends struggle with other aspects of Mother’s day.

Maybe their mom was abusive or stood by in silence as their father did the unthinkable to them.

Maybe they only carried their baby a few months, to short a time for the world to even know of the sweet painful existence.

Maybe motherhood never came their way.

Maybe their only child is no longer in the picture, either due to death or estrangement.

These are tough places! Ones with no pat answers.

I found Betsy Childs Howard’s writing intriguing. She says it well in her blog entitled “The Struggle of Rejoicing With Those Who Rejoice”…. Apostle Paul gives a compelling reason for rejoicing on behalf of other Christians: We are members of the same body. “If one member suffers, all suffer together; if one member is honored, all rejoice together” (1 Cor. 12:26). If we are parts of the same body, then one Christian’s blessing is your blessing. What’s good for the foot is good for the leg and the hand and the eyes. Blessings are not a zero-sum game. There’s not a limited amount that God can bestow. If one part of the Body gets a blessing, it has not stolen it from another part of the Body or prevented that member from receiving the same good blessing in God’s perfect timing.

I have come to the conclusion that the secret to answering these tough questions is compassion. Compassion does not need to lessen the joy of celebration, but will seek God’s wisdom in how to bless those who struggle with kindness and empathy. It might mean instead of turning a confused blind eye, we take a moment to give a hug or send a note to the ones we know hurt on these special celebration days.

As time continues, I am indeed once again enjoying the celebrations of the day. So today I am relaxing with my 3 babies who are not so much babies anymore, while Hubby celebrates the day with his mom who turned 88 this week. I have loved watching their enthusiasm this week as we planned a totally leisure day that’ll probably involve homemade pie and seeing some pretty flowers and counting the blessings of togetherness! After all, It’s the Little Things.

Happy Mother’s Day to all of you! May God’s peace be with you today!

Blessed Are Those Who Mourn…

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“You keep track of all my sorrows.  You have collected all my tears in your bottle.  Psalm 56:8”

Pastor Steve read from Matthew 5 in his latest sermon. I have heard the Beatitudes read probably a million times in my lifetime. Never did verse 4 jump out to me like it did in this moment.  “Blessed are those who mourn…”

Blessed?  You’ve got to be kidding me!

Mourning is not particularly pleasant. 

Recently a caring friend asked me about how I felt about a certain aspect of grief. We talked about timetables for grief. We chatted about those we knew and how they grieve.  I find for myself that grief has been most unpredictable. Trying to find a place for her picture on my new walls has presented a challenge I could not have foreseen. But that’s grief.

As I sat re-reading the Matthew verse, I thought about how many times I’ve tried to imagine how my life would be without my daughter’s untimely passing.  While I feel like I have adjusted and am doing ok with the life altering loss, it still touches life in some way, almost daily.  Sometimes I don’t even realize how it slips its way in. 

I have had to come to grips with it (grief) entangling itself in what I say every single time I write.  I’ve wished it not to be so.  But it is. I have come to the conclusion that if my writing is truly a God calling, then apparently what I feel as I write must be the current message HE wants me to share in this place and time. And I have come to realize that it may not be for anyone else maybe, but simply for my own healing and wholeness. 


The rest of that Matthew 5 verse is so so precious.  “Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. “  It doesn’t say might or may, it says will! To me that is all the comfort I really need – the promise of the hope of a brighter tomorrow.  If not here, over there with the blessed comforter Himself!