Choosing Rest

Exodus 33:14 NIV  The Lord replied, My presence will go with you and I will give you rest

 

 

Who among us really gets enough rest?  

I’ve been engulfed in the hustle and bustle of raising children for nearly 14 years. 

Rest has not been high on my list of priorities.  

In the midst of normal mommy life chaos, my most recent years have been filled with my own unexpected illness, week long hospitalization and multiple surgeries that have forced me to sit and rest. 

This has been quite a stretch for my extroverted, type A personality.  

After all, there are meals to be cooked, meetings to be attended, windows to be cleaned, playdates to be had, people to talk to….

I most certainly don’t have time to rest. 

As the season has continued however, I am learning the value of rest and am finding that my forced pause has actually taught me to crave quiet and rest. 

Another gift of my repose has been more time for God’s word.

Did you know that rest is mentioned over 200 times in the Bible?

Exodus 17 tells of the Israelites going to battle with Amalek.  Elderly Moses sits up on a hill overlooking the battle. When he holds his arms up, Israel is victorious.  When he gets tired, his arms drop. Israel begins to lose the battle. He needs rest. Finally, his good buddies Aaron and Hur roll up a stone for him to sit on and take a stance at his sides, each holding up an arm.   Israel prevails. God’s blessing through Moses resting gives Israel victory over their evil Amalekite neighbors. 

King David spoke of needing rest as he grieved the rebellion of his son Absolom.  Psalm 55:6 ESV says “Oh that I had wings like the dove!  I would fly away and be at rest.”  Wouldn’t we all like to do that at times? 

Even Jesus, our divine, yet also human Saviour spoke of needing rest.   Mark 6 unfolds the time period around him choosing his disciples and hearing of his cousin John’s beheading.  Near the end of the chapter, Mark 6:30 NIV, he invites his disciples to “come away with me to a quiet place and get some rest”.  He understood the need for physical rest and modeled it well for his disciples. 

The story of Mary and Martha (Luke 11) showcases Mary choosing rest, quiet at Jesus’ feet, gleaning from Him what she could while he is right there in front of her. 

We are not put here to be lazy.  I am learning however, that my list of accomplishments grows when I am intentional, taking the time to rest, both physically and at the feet of my Saviour. 

Beautiful Words

Pleasant words are as an honeycomb, sweet to the soul, and health to the bones. Proverbs 16:24

The knots in my stomach got a little tighter. I felt my heart breaking into teeny tiny pieces as I sat with my husband listening to the angry voice rage on and on at the other end of the phone line. The room filled with tension as the voice got louder and more shrill, carelessly tossing words full of insult and accusation about as freely as the falling rain. They surrounded us both like a heavy blanket, rendering one nearly unable to breathe from the sharp pain of unsuspected attack.

The days following overflowed with numb exhaustion as we grappled with the aftermath. The line between truth and the dump truck load of accusation and condemnation that had just bombarded our tender, raw souls was barely discernible.

Sleep was laced with the uncertainty of how the situation would resolve. One morning in the last hour before dawn, and before the house was stirring I sat, Bible in hand, searching for God’s thoughts on our current perilous position. My husband groggily came to inquire what I was doing. We discussed the importance of proper response to words that are not life giving in nature and were able to do some combat against the presence of those recent hateful words and their affect on our lives using the simple truths of the Bible.

God’s word is full of instruction about words. Not only are words filled with either curses or blessings but we are told we will give account of every unnecessary word we speak. Proverbs 12:18 says “The words of the reckless pierce like swords, but the tongue of the wise brings healing

Unbeknownst to me, God was already working to bring healing to the wounds I had received from those angry accusing words. We’d stopped at one of our favorite fast food spots to eat after our daughter’s volleyball game. As I was finishing, an old friend whom I hadn’t seen in 2 decades came up to my table and began to visit. As she walked away she hugged me and whispered “you are really looking well, you look so at peace…” She could not have known the turmoil happening in my inner soul or the pain that threatened every conversation with tears, but God did and orchestrated our meeting precisely.

The rest of that week was filled with more incidents just like that. Time after time, God sent people into my path to be honey to my hurting soul and remind me of his love and divine plan for me. Since, He’s been showing me the words He says about me in his divine word.

He says I am free from condemnation (Romans 8:1,2).

He says I have HIS spirit (Romans 5:5)

He says I am chosen (Isaiah 43:1, Psalm 139:13-16)

He says I am loved (Ephesians 2:4-9)

He says I am worthy (Matthew 10:31)

Scripture is packed full of great and precious promises so this list could go on and on. But I am thinking HIS words about me are so much more valid then whatever the enemy seeks to throw at me.

I continue my quest for finding God’s truth about the power of words and hope I can truly live according to Proverbs 31:26 She opens her mouth with wisdom,
And on her tongue is the law of kindness.

Beautiful Scars

What if I told you I had a marvelous tip for dealing with scars?

If I’d have known at the beginning of this summer how many scars I’d soon acquire, it would have been discouraging.  2 years of illness and a previous major surgery and subsequent hospitalization with sepsis and staph had left me anxious, constantly wondering what may happen next. 

At 44, I didn’t desire the unappealing reality of instant menopause which happened as a result of a needed but unexpected hysterectomy and my first set of scars of the summer.  That surgery revealed a large thyroid tumor resulting in my 2nd surgery in eight weeks, and yet another super visible scar.

Aside from physical scars, our family has been walking through some deep scar producing valleys emotionally, that have uprooted our family in indescribable ways. 

I have cried out to God asking for help deciphering  what lessons we are missing to make this season of pain and scarring seem endless. 

Sometimes He’s seemed silent.  

Mostly though, He has brought sweet reminders of HIS presence and love for me.  

As I’ve sat resting from my last surgery,  I’ve contemplated more deeply wounding and scars in general.

Jesus has scars. 

His scars show evidence of his love for me and God’s divine plan to draw us to himself.  

How amazing is that?  

Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash

My scars are as nothing in comparison.  However as I think back over the love and care God has shown me through their obtaining, it has changed my perception.  

My thyroid scar, for example, is there because a CT Scan tech took a different picture then he was supposed to.  Instead of stopping the camera at my shoulders, he went to my jawbone which captured my tumor perfectly. 

Coincidence?  I don’t think so! 

The emotional scars from our family’s struggles have brought blessings too.  Meeting Godly new friends and figuring out our God placed passions and fun ways to pursue them,  may not have happened in the scar-free zone we were comfortable in.

In reality I don’t have a physical cream or potion to offer to make scars disappear. 

However, I can attest that changing perception has helped me see my scars differently.  

Looking at our scars as gifts we can thank God for, may just make the process of living with them easier. 

I’ve had this song on repeat….

1 Peter 2:24 ESV

He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree, that we might die to sin and live to righteousness. By his wounds (scars) you have been healed.

Between Two Camps

When I first started writing in public places, I set my heart on writing from real places about real things, real emotions, real life, hoping to focus on the blessings and finding joy in life. Lately, I’ve been accused of airing dirty laundry, of speaking before thinking and being to critical, just to name a few lesser favorable opinions, so I have thought long and hard about this post and I am not out to make jabs at anyone, just kind of thinking out loud on somethings I have been pondering.

I am a big back ground person so bear with me as I get to the camps part and please hear me. I am not here for pity party or complaining. **For the record, many of you have told me how brave and strong I am, I am really not all that….

Photo by: Kali Miller

Since Abby died almost 5 years ago, it has sometimes seemed as if our life goes from one crisis to another. I am not all that fond of crisis mode. The last 2.5 years have been especially difficult. I got sick in the fall of 2017 and stayed in that state for 18 long months and during that time nearly died of sepsis and staph infection.

I was still recovering from the long illness, when one of our children became the center of some really ugly circumstances that should not have happened and have ripped at the very core of who our family is. As we have stood with our beautiful daughter, defending what we shouldn’t have to defend, the reality of sin staying hidden repeatedly reminds us of our constant need of Jesus and his light to shine into our dark circumstances.

As this particular situation has drug on and on with seemingly no resolution, it has taken it’s toll on all of us stress wise. Thinking it was just stress and the residue from how sick I had been I ignored my body trying to tell me it had more trouble, until it became apparent I would need surgery, the lovely female kind. Not quite 2 weeks ago, that happened. As I have spent time at home recovering, a trip to the ER revealed more potential scary in the form of a what the dr called a large, suspicious mass on my thyroid along with a few smaller nodules. I have excellent lab work and a 90% chance of it not being cancer but it’s a little unnerving none the less. So now I wait for more appointments with more doctors, more tests, a biopsy, results….

Here’s where the camp part comes in.

As we have have walked on in our journey, prayer is the key factor that has kept us sane. As each event has unfolded many well meaning persons have offered wise words, books, scriptures and podcasts on prayer, in addition to standing with us and actually praying.

As I see it, there are basically 2 kinds of pray-ers. There is one camp that claims and proclaims that all of their requests will be answered in the requested format. The other is more laid back in approach. Everything is asked in the “if it be thy will mode”. Both “camps” tend to be radical about their chosen view point and one can quickly feel confused or even guilty about one’s choices of how to pray.

I remember sitting with friends after Abby’s funeral and hearing them share about people they knew who had had a young child hurt in an accident. Over the course of the hours where it appeared the child might die, the parents did the “claiming prayers” and the child pulled thru. Unbeknownst to them, the child would grow up to totally reject God and his way and died in a drunk driving accident after which the parent’s grief spoke out on how they would have been much more sure of her eternal end had she left as an innocent child. Now I know that story sounds almost prudish and could be perceived as legalistic in nature. I also know that scripture itself says “you have not because you ask not…” and “by his stripes you are healed..” I have also personally seen God move in mighty ways answering both kinds of prayers. He is THE God of miracles.

I am becoming more and more inclined to think that it is more important THAT we pray and maybe not necessarily such a big deal HOW we pray.

So as I sit on the eve of another week filled with doctor’s appointments, I will continue to trust in the one who already knows the outcome even if it means I have to go back and trust all over again every single minute. And I humbly ask for your prayers, however you choose to pray.

I have also found great comfort and distraction from my own stress in praying for others. So I am availing myself here in a public format to pray for what you are facing. Comment here or message me on the link on my homepage or via facebook or instagram.

The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much…

New Things

Isaiah 43:19 – Behold I will do a new thing; now it shall spring forth; shall ye not know it? I will even make a way in the wilderness, and rivers in the desert.

New things.

For me, new means change. Sometimes “new” is welcome. Like the new blooms after a long winter.

Other times “new” is difficult to process and endure. “New” can feel cold and be daunting, frightening, exhausting.

Photo by my daughter, Kali

Getting a website of my own and working with more definitive purpose on following a dream, my calling of sorts, is downright terrifying.

I’ve made a million mental lists as to why I should just stay put in my nice comfortable space. They go something like this. There are already a million other writers, mommy bloggers, wanna be published authors out there. What do I have to say that’s any different? What if people don’t like what I have to say? What about the chiding and scolding I’ve already experienced that just about silenced my voice forever? What if I’m not good enough?

But then I think about God’s love and provision as our family has walked through some really dark times. I think about my health and how very sick I have been and how God has spared my very life. Reflection not only brings gratitude but it helps define purpose. My purpose. If I truly believe that I am alive, breathing, here, for purpose then what do any of my lists prove? matter?

I am ok with being writer, mommy blogger, wanna be author, number one million and one. I am good with an audience of one as long as it’s the creator of the universe who designed and created me with value and purpose. Through HIM I am good enough no matter the hurtful debilitating insults tossed my way.

I’ve been listening to Zach Williams over and over as I came to the choice to actually step out (and yes I am still learning about how to be techy in presentation of links) The song is Fear is a Liar

https://youtu.be/1srs1YoTVzs

So as I embark on a new journey of sorts, I invite you to join me. What is God calling you to do? To be? What adventure is waiting for you?

Choosing Joy Over Fear

I’ve been pondering a lot of things as I sit thinking about the year that is leaving and the year that is to come. 
It’s been a not so fun year with all my crazy health issues that lasted through out most of 18 months. My last living grandfather went to heaven this year. 
Some dreams got worked on.  Some dreams died. 
Abby’s been with Jesus for almost 4 1/2 years now and our family is doing alright. We’ve actually done well, I’d say, with all that has happened to me. 
Recently though I started connecting some of the dots to key areas we seem to struggle with….It mostly boils down to allowing fear to dominate.
 
Several times it has come up in our grief therapy. I can see it in my children.  It’s much harder to identify in myself. 
It hit me this past week. 
Beings I have been so ill, we had made the choice late this past fall, to stay home from our yearly trek to spend Christmas with my parents and siblings in South Carolina.  It was hard. I was sad.  My children just about couldn’t fathom Christmas with out Nana.
It turned out amazingly. 
Pretty near perfect. 
We had a friend’s wedding on Saturday and hosted Lowell’s mom, aunt and siblings/families on Sunday. Then it was just us.  Just us, uninterrupted for 2 whole days. We played games, laughed, relaxed, ate fun food and stayed in our jammies. I realized a bit in, that making our own traditions wasn’t half the work I had thought. 
I can not remember the last time my husband and I laughed so much or did so much dreaming together. 
It was refreshing. 
As I lay down to sleep one night, those old emotions started knocking. 
Our last 21 years has had its share of tough times. Sometimes I have really missed the fun we had before all the hard stuff hit. We used to laugh more.  We hosted people and enjoyed it immensely. We planned things together and had the most fun seeing them through. Looking at old photos, shows the laughter in our eyes and not the deep underlying grief and sadness. 
 It seems life is full of seasons and the last real magical time was the family trip to Edisto beach.  The ocean greeted us with open arms. All 5 of us have expressed feeling the magic of that time with my parents and siblings and their families.  We took a gazillion photos, ate seafood hammer down, played games and built sandcastles. We rode bikes around the island and ran after the ice cream truck. We took a huge family photo on the beach complete with Pawpaw dancing around to keep the tears at bay. 
 
2 months later Abby went to heaven and joy seemingly left, leaving grumpy tear filled days in its place. 
 
Our Miss Kendra has explained many times that in grief, it may be hard to allow oneself to enjoy life, to laugh, to live fully. 
Like I said, I see it in my kidos. My youngest in particular goes bananas, usually ending up hiding under her pillow when we watch a funny show as a family.  Laughter is almost frightening.
Her young mind and the trauma she has experienced put up a wall that make the joy in daily life painful.
 
As I lay, trying to sleep, pondering the thoughts slamming through my brain, it suddenly hit me. 
Coming through the magic of a few amazing, seriously enjoyable days serves as a breeding ground for a heavy feeling of doom and almost bracing myself for another tragedy and losing another soul I love. 
 
I can not and will not live there. 
 
Don’t get me wrong.  I am not naive. I know that life is full of good days and bad days, happy and sad, blessing and tragedy. 
I am well acquainted with grief.  My rose colored glasses have long since disappeared. 
But, God is faithful.  He is good.  I can indeed trust HIM in the easy and the hard.  He is with me in the valley and on the mountain top. I am also fully aware that the trauma we have faced as a family will continue to affect how we see things. But, I know that when the hard emotions come along, He will walk with me through the working through them process.
Do I then have it all together?
Absolutely not! 
But I know He does….
So as I set off into 2019, my conscious thought process is to allow joy to seep in and bring the gifts of laughter and dreaming along with it, thus defeating the monsters of fear. 
 
Who is with me? 
 
This is our family anthem….listen and be encouraged…

Discounted Miracles

We as Mennonites are real big into discounts.  The cheaper the better.  There’s nothing inherently wrong with that…
I do think how ever, that we do a tremendous disservice to the name of Christ when we “discount” the miracles He does in our lives.
Like the most recent “big miracle” in my personal life…
Don’t get me wrong. I think miracles happen around us daily but we must have the eyes and mindset to realize them…..
Back to my big one.
Roughly 3 and a half months ago I was hospitalized for what we know now was sepsis (infection that somehow got into the blood) and an ugly kind of staph. I knew I was sick.  But because I had been sick for so many months prior I did not realize the seriousness of my condition till after I was on the mend. 



I will never forget the parts of the day I can remember. I had been hospitalized the night before. I knew they were fighting to keep my temp down. I was not in ICU but had all sorts of monitors and wires connected to every part of my body. I knew I was running a fever because I kept asking for just one more blanket.  That cold is unlike any other.  In the afternoon my friend Connie was standing by my bed and though I knew she was there, it took every ounce of effort in me to even open my eyes.  I could hear some of her words and tried to respond but it felt like I was trapped in a tunnel.  My arms would not obey my commands to lift in response to commands of the attending drs and nurses. My tongue felt like it was about 10 inches thick and would not cooperate to form words.  They pushed me somewhere in a wheel chair to do a brain scan and it was all I could do to muster up enough energy to get from the bed to the chair.  I know they were trying to get me to chat with them cause they told me so later, but all I could do was sit with my pounding head in my hands.  I was dizzy and cold and just wanted to sleep and I wanted them to stop their endless chatter because it really hurt my head.  Connie, in the meantime, being a nurse, saw and understood the gravity of my situation and called my pastor’s wife and told her I needed urgent prayer.  Apparently that is the exact text that went out on our prayer hot line. At the very exact moment my text message ding came through on my phone which was laying close to my bed, which I heard and comprehended that I heard,   my fever broke.  It was like waking up.  I could talk and move my limbs.  The headache was nearly gone and my very concerned doc was standing at my bed asking me if I knew my name.  I giggled at him and said of course. He told me he had been extremely concerned the sepsis had spread to my brain and wanted to do another kind of scan to confirm which we did and it came back just fine.   (Of course…)


                                              Rocking that very attractive hospital gown – post fever…


At first and many moments since especially when my doctor has introduced me as that patient that nearly died, I have though wellllll, it probably wasn’t quite so bad. I really wasn’t all that sick.  But this week a member of our extended family was hospitalized with septic shock and the statistics released on some of the prayer requests messages that came through were reminders.  Basically 50% of people who get sepsis die.   That’s half!  Half of the people don’t survive. 


                                               I went home with a picc line (not fun!)


But I did.  Yes the 5 different antibiotics coursing through my veins helped but God still has a plan for me and He chose to step in and show off at the very moment my church family got on their knees to intercede for me.  He provided my miracle. And you know what?  He has a plan for you too if you’re alive enough to read this! 
The miracles in our lives aren’t always the big splashy kind.  Sometimes it is the quiet reassurance of God’s love through the touch of a friend. Sometimes it is the unexpected anonymous check that shows up just when you need it most.  And then sometimes it is the prayed for healing.  But either way, MIRACLES HAPPEN!  It’s our job to notice them and then acknowledge the divine design of a Creator God who loves us more then we can fathom. HE is good!

Real. Different. Real Different…(and all that entails)

I have always had my quirks, those things that make me me.  I cherish the unique, the stuff that sets me apart. Sometimes it’s been simply clothing. I love my multi colored shoes from 10th grade and my black and white dress that had both stripes and polka dots on it. I derived a sense of freedom and immense happy each time I chose them from my closet. Other times it has been embracing an idea no one else gets or cheering for the underdog…
So when different doesn’t pan out to be the most coveted spot in the planet, where does the quirky, proud to be odd turn?
Life is full of seasons.  As a woman, I am not blind to the fact that many factors from our female properties make some of those seasons a bit crazy.
My writing and just being me in general has always been real. I really have nothing to hide. But sometimes I really see that real setting me apart to the point of crazy being the sign over the door and then I wish I could be not quite so open. As I age that real me has seen some real lonely. Some days, like the one I just lived thru, remind me of being the 3rd grade odd ball.  I wonder if I have horns growing out of my snout and if I am crazy for feeling like everyone on the planet has a problem with me.  Wow.  Did I really just say that out loud?    ***Here is where I could easily hit delete or close and walk away with out exposing any more of my vulnerable soul. But due to some strategic conversations recently I will plod on along…
Life sometimes sucks. Yup I said that out loud too.
For some close to me, harsh realities and unexpected not life planned out have turned normal day to day into worry central.  We are busy. And tired. We run and race to get to all we need to do.  Rest evades us. The urge to please exhausts us. We are islands to ourselves trudging through the crowds as alone as a lone ranger on a dessert path.
Yet, there is a common thread that connects us all, a God designed plan of being here to do life together. I don’t have some great profound method or plan for carrying out that plan but I have sure pondered more deeply what other women and folks in general are saying when I really stop to listen to their hearts.
My children for example,  are grappling with the concepts of growing up and many times recently as they have done new things they come around with the same old nagging question that has plagued us all since the beginning of time…”what if they don’t like me?” or “they don’t like me..”
I wonder how I can teach them to be confident in their God given quirks when I at 42 years of age am most insecure of all. I think they are amazing perfectly wonderful gifts from God (and I see some of my quirks coming thru). Often my oldest will say “but MOOOOMMMM, you think that because you’re my mom…” “Yup kido I am indeed your mama but God created you to be you…accept it.  Love it.  Embrace it.” 
It’s those conversations when my heart is bursting with love for my children that I am reminded how my Daddy God sees me.  I am sure his heart breaks when I believe the lies hammering in my ears…”you are unloved…unimportant…uncared for…ugly…worthless…annoying….


So back to that God designed plan, I was recently reminded of how important encouragement can be among us in this thing called life. My inbox stays fairly clean but the kinds of things that stay are those such as a love note from my man and a short paragraph of complete unexpected encouragement stating I was a good mother that is dated Feb 15, 2014 and is from a friend I haven’t seen in probably 20 years.
It didn’t take this friend much effort, I assume, to type a few words that have had such a profound impact on my soul.  I know I can offer that same gift to others and that is something I really want to work on doing more of. But so often I am to self absorbed and busy being me to care enough to show it.
Doing the together thing isn’t always that simple and sometimes requires more of us. We may have to get sticky, dirty and more exhausted. We may have to jump out of our comfort zone.  We may have to get really super uncomfortable.
Sometimes I think the levels of pain in our lives and in those around us walking around breathing (breathing is a connecting factor…we are alive and have purpose despite) has reached epic proportions.  Life is hard enough with out all the extra trash we throw and accept into our deepest being when it’s pitched our way.  So I will wrap these rambles up with a question or two (and I’d really love active discussion…) In what ways are you being real and different and what is your contribution the bettering the together?

Resting…

Come to me all you who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest. Matthew 11:28
 
 
As I scroll back through my blog, a common thread emerges. It’s that compelling “I have to write then I’ll feel better” theme.  Often I have passed up the urges and still survived. LOL.  However sometimes, getting the thoughts out into the atmosphere bring about a strange healing, sometimes for me, sometimes for others who may stumble across my ramblings.
I’m always learning.  Now don’t get me wrong.  I don’t pretend to be well versed in much anything. But the process of learning is often bettered by sharing with one another in the process. I don’t like the idea of simply throwing every exciting thought out into the universe, but often others’ words can serve to be a source of encouragement that can be just what is needed at the moment.  And tho I abhor the impersonal nature of social media, I have seen God use it much! 
This week we finished a beautiful vacation with my family at the ocean. We had perfection.  80 degrees and sunshine daily.
This week also brought some moments of painful revelation, the kind that kick you in the gut and leave you questioning many things including your own sanity and every decision you have ever made.  It’s the kind that also amplifies one’s failures. It elicits the kind of emotion that makes you feel like vomiting at any given moment. And of course it brings the endless stream of sleep robbing questions…what if’s…what nows…
To preserve my last shred of sanity, I have been browsing through our beautiful vacation photos and grasping on to every small blip of encouragement I have come across. 
Like this one…
 
 
I love the carefree spirit and love I see embodied here.  It reminds my of my circle..my Bible study girls in particular…those friends who love me even when I am crazy and queen grumpy. They pray for me and hold my hand and tell me it’ll be ok. I can be completely real and tell them the truth about the crappy stuff and they’ll not “rat me out” or make my already fragile spirit feel unsafe. They do fun too. Our giggles are the best.
And they help me learn about resting…and waiting when I want to get my wonderwoman boots out and kick some butt.
 
 
 I love the memes and daily devotional style posts that come across facebook.  Ann Voscamp is among my favorites.  This one popped up this week at an intense moment where I wanted to curl up in a tiny ball, hide and weep.
 
 
I know it’s truth.  I’m learning to lay my head there. It ain’t easy…
 
 
 
And then there’s this photo….(shout out to my hubby who carried most of the weight of a hundred pounds of shells the what seems like 5 miles back from Shell Island.)
So much of the time when my boots come out, I am finding often that resting first is a better option.  This doesn’t mean that I never enter warfare or face the tough stuff head on. 
I happened to marry “Mr When I’m Not 100 % Sure What To Do, Don’t Do Anything”. It’s another one of those God designed gifts that drives me crazy.  But that’s another thought for another day.
The stuff that slammed us this week is no laughing matter.  It’s hard…yucky…nightmare material.  And the reactions we express now could mess certain relationships up for the rest of time.  It’s that serious. So when I’ve been tempted to rush in, I’m learning in some hard ways why at this moment resting and waiting is in all of our best interests.
 
 

In the process, I keep getting almost daily reminders of my worth and beauty before my father God who adores me beyond my comprehension. 
Like these wild ocean side grasses….
From far away they are plain and unappealing.  But close up, they have intricate beauty and detail.
What a place to rest.
 
Today the day started in tears, misunderstanding and great frustration and fear. But then God stepped in and in his typical great and amazing grace provided peace and rest.  I opened my face book to this reminder.
 
 
What a promise.
We are not required to, well actually the Bible commands us not to worry about the troubles of tomorrow. I’m real good at not obeying that particular command. But today I am choosing rest.
 
And you know how rest producing troubles often draw us closer to HIS heart…
 
 
With that season of rest, I am gifted time. 
Time to ponder…time to care for others via prayer and intercession.
So in my resting today, how can I pray for you?
You can comment here or message me if that’s easier.
 
                                          The road of life is easier when walked with a friend – unknown
 

What if…

The past 2 1/2 years have been filled with lots of different questions and a million different emotions. 
I had thought that by this point in the journey that my emotional process may be different and that in some miraculous way the urges to flee from the suffocating stages of grief may have diminished.
They have some what. 
Time has a way. 
Somehow though the bubble I put around myself popped this week and the crash hasn’t been all that pretty. 
On lookers may miss it. 
Even those I am close to can’t necessarily see my inner soul (unless of course I blatter on publicly on social media)
Only God can.
While I know this to be truth and find it comforting mostly, I also know that my broken record reminders of clinging to Him in the eye of the storm are reality.  
BUT this doesn’t mean the questions stop. 
And yes, I’m writing from that place. That broken place where the tears stain the keyboard and my stomach is in knots…the place and time where I long to just wrap up in my covers and stay put..the anti social place which my normal self disdains.
Those questions are endless as are the flashbacks (hello PTSD..)
What if I’d been not so busy and would have followed her out to the pool as my gut suggested?
What if we hadn’t filled the pool more full then usual?
What if I’d been more on top of water safety?
and the Whys…
Why oh why did I have to endure the many years of infertility only to lose a part of my soul just when the tiresome, exhaustion of 4 very young ones was becoming just a tad bit easier?
Why did we have to be chosen to be parents who have lost?
I have the tendency to beat my self up over my need to know the what if and the why’s answers.
However the longer I walk this journey, the more I realize in deeper ways how the God of the universe has shoulders big enough to handle my pidley and sometimes angry questions.
I am also seeing the many parallels to David’s up and downs.  He is known as a man after God’s own heart.  How much closer to God can you get then that? To know God’s heart…
Psalms is full of emotions much like mine.  
Some days were good for David and he danced in the streets.  
Others were not so good and David moaned and groaned to his creator.  Ps 119:25 says “I am laid low in the dust. Preserve my life according to your word.”  Definitely some depression going on and a not so dancing in the street day.
This week this has meant that in order to keep on with life I may need to change my what ifs and whys up a bit.
What if the bigger picture is much more beautiful then I can fathom?
What if the lessons make me better?
What if the horrid grief can be a tool to reach others?

I have a list of questions for God that I’d love to sit down and discuss with Him but I wonder if when we actually get up there to that glorious city, if they’ll be all that important to me?

So for now I will continue to wrestle, to keep the faith, to get out of bed, to paste on the sometimes fake smile and remember that He is big enough to handle all my what ifs.

And of course we continually remember…Facebook has been throwing memories at me left and right. This is todays…