Category: friendship

Walking Each Other Home (Valentine Giveaway)

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It’s Valentine’s week again.  

As I consider the hype surrounding America’s most romantic holiday, I wonder how many of you find yourself disenchanted with love itself.  

After the freshness of romance has worn off, sometimes before the honeymoon has ended, we are left with dashed expectations, hopes, dreams. 

Sounds lovely doesn’t it?! 

Lowell and I will celebrate our 23 anniversary this year.  And while the years have definietely been filled with a lot of hard, we are super blessed as well!  

I could prattle on and on about what I have learned and where I have failed in my marriage. 

I won’t bore you. 

It’s quite simply boils down to this…

Marriage is the daily process of laying down self, our expectations and how we think things should be. 

It is taking up God’s agape love for our spouse. 

I recently heard Agape love referred to as “the process of walking one another home”.  Isn’t that a neat thought?

How do we do that well?

I’ve had several conversations again lately that have reminded me how much we as married couples have in common.  

Our struggles may differ in intensity, but we all struggle.  

I haven’t met a marriage yet who claimed to be stress free. 

Also, I am convinced that there is strength in community when we can be open, honest, vulnerable with others about what we may be experiencing in our marriages. 

James 5:16 says “Therefore confess your faults to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed.”  While James may not have specifically been referring to marriage, I see this as perfectly applicable to the state of our unions. 

If your marriage is in a good place, use that time to pray for others who may need healing and completeness in their marriage!  

After 2 plus decades of learning all about the nitty gritty of marriage, the one defining thread woven through all stages, has been the reminder and motivation to pray for Lowell. Godly women I admire have stopped me in the midst of grump sessions to ask me the tough question, “Have you talked to God about this?”

GIVEAWAY TIME!

In honor of this blessing, I am doing a giveaway here!  Stormie Omartian wrote a powerful book called “The Power of a Praying Wife” .  If you’d like a chance at a copy of your very own, simply leave a comment here on dorothymiller.com telling me a favorite way your spouse blesses you. 

I will draw a winner on Valentines day. 

I pray blessing on your path as we all walk each other home.

Times & Seasons

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“And the God of all grace who called you to his eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast. 1 Peter 5:10 NIV”

Today is not only the start of a brand new day, but a brand new season for me. Through an extended period of illness for me, we made the decision as a family to put both our daughters into the public school. Having known nothing else but the homeschooling I have done for almost a decade, I feel a little lost when I get up in the morning, even though I still home school my 7th grade son.

As I look back on our journey, I see very clearly how God’s divine hand led us to and through the places we’ve been. I did not set out to home school. But after many years of infertility and also having worked as a teacher’s assistant I went gung ho into the process.

It was indeed the best yes for our family’s season as we grieved the sudden loss of Abby. Grief can not be hurried or placed on a time table. We were able to putter about and do what needed doing in that time.

Back to the present…I have always loved writing and for as long as I can remember have written. I come from a heritage of writers. My grandfather was a devout Amish man who from my earliest memories sat holed up in his office pecking away at a manual typewriter writing for the Family Life magazines he founded or the Amish newspaper, the Budget. As a young child I pondered how one could possibly spent all that time tucked away.

I get it now. It’s in my blood.

My uncle Ira is soon releasing his second book after his first called “Growing up Amish” became a New York Times best seller. Along the way I’ve picked his brain and he’s always been super encouraging.

Both men are my inspiration.

Over the years, I have had much encouragement to write. As I have spent time exploring God’s call on my life, it has become apparent that writing may just be a piece of that puzzle.

Though I don’t yet know if me writing is for the greater good, or simply for my own healing and encouragement. I do know God has offered me the gifts of time, a support network, and a small platform where I can make my mark on my world, all gifts I can not refuse.

Our guest speaker at church yesterday, John Troyer, spoke directly into my vision. He talked of being plucky and asked us to raise our hands if we saw ourselves as that. Only one or two did. He then went on to explain that plucky is defined as “having or showing determined courage in the face of difficulties” I was to intimidated to raise my hand but after church my sweet husband questioned me about if I had raised my hand. At my reply, he stated quite abruptly that plucky defines me perfectly.

John explained how we are all pretty much created fully and completely average. Reassuring, isn’t it? But then we all have an assignment from God that is not limited by those around us. He finished by challenging us to remember that pluckiness keeps going and how each of us must allow God’s dream to be planted in us.

So, today, with my dream in hand I set out on a new adventure. It may seem a little scary and a whole lot intimidating, but I have a finished manuscript that has already passed several editing processes and just needs me to be brave enough to write an actual proposal, so I can get it published. I choose to embrace my new season with joyful anticipation because I know who’s with me.

“The Lord himself goes before you and will be with you; He will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; Do not be discouraged….Deuteronomy 31:8”

What Matters Most

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2019 has been a year of changes in our household.  

Many have been major and more life affecting then we could have ever imagined. 

I must confess that I care too much about what others think about our life, so my anxiety has heightened in the process. 

I’m learning change isn’t always bad.  Sometimes it is the healthiest of choices. 

A plant can not become the beautiful green we see without change. 

Growth isn’t easy and is definitely not pain free. 

Leaving our church home of many decades topped the list of difficult change.  Lowell has referred to the process as more difficult than death. It has been a type of death, of life plans and dreams. Issues still unresolved bring harsh reminders, but God gifted us with His beautiful peace and strong awareness that our family is exactly where He wants us. 

My health has continued to be a challenge. I ended up with a hysterectomy, a partial thyroidectomy, continuing sinus infections, and will end the year with dentures (yes…at the age of 44) all of which are major changes. What really matters is that I am much better off without the diseased parts. The dentures are the most challenging, but I have been told the long term teeth issues are most likely at least part of the reason for the ongoing headaches and sinus infections. Even though, I haven’t felt the greatest and am back on meds that mess with my gut majorly, God continues to be faithful. 

Most recently we made a family decision that will change our lives dramatically.  The girls decided they want to go to “real” school and mom and dad decided to oblige.  Having homeschooled our whole family life and anticipating doing so to the end, threw me for a loop.  With the learning struggles our children have all had, my emotions have vacillated between anxiety at the job I have done as a teacher and not having them where I “want” them and joy at seeing their excitement. While I am sure there will be stresses yet unseen and hurdles they’ll have, I am blessed they have a good place where they already have friends, for them to start this different part of their journey even though it means mom has to learn a whole bunch of stuff she knows nothing about like bus schedules and lunch accounts.  What really matters is that my girls have had some really cool relationships that have readied them for this season. And they have God and his care and love guiding them. 

Another funeral for a younger (50ish) man from our church has reminded me again of how short life is.  All of us face difficulties and stresses. While I may sound like a broken record, each day is a gift. Living it to the fullest and doing so for the God who created it and us is what really matters most. 

5 Tips For Cultivating Gratitude

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In a study noted at Harvard, psychologists found that giving thanks can actually make you happier. They also found gratitude helpful for people focusing on what they had, instead of what they lacked. 

As fall turns to winter, shorter amounts of daylight breed depression for many.

Instead of succumbing to the negative, why not try gratitude instead?

#5. Write a thankyou note to someone who has made a difference in your life.  

A real honest to goodness stamped envelope or postcard in the mailbox is an extra treat in a society bombarded with instant everything. 

Thank your hairstylist for the great cut you get each month.  Compliment your pastor for the time he spent on last week’s sermon. Tell your child’s teacher how much you appreciate the extra time they spent helping Johnny with a harder concept.  Look up someone from your childhood who made a difference for you during those tough preteen/teen years. Your parents, spouse, children and friends are excellent choices as well.

#4. Thank God (out loud) for the green light and the open parking spot.

Our children hear us loud and clear.  The vocal grumping at the slow poke driver in the fast lane needs to be balanced by thanks for the non irritating parts of the day.  Or, you could try thanking God for the slow poke. 

#3. Keep A Prayer Journal.

Sometimes writing out requests helps our focus become less selfish.  Charting answers to prayer can provide a faith boost. The Harvard study also stated that people who pray and meditate are more grateful. 

#2. Start a “3 Things” Tradition with your family. 

At the end of each day, whether at dinner or at bedtime, have each family member name 3 things they are grateful for.   It can be the good supper mom made, or the play date with a best friend. We live in a warm house and our shoes don’t have holes in them. You get the idea. 

#1. Be intentional.

After Abby died, I found it a chore to get out of bed each day. 

My sweet friend Sara introduced me to the idea of taking pictures and making an Instagram post each morning about 1 thing that brought me joy or that I was thankful for. What started as a 30 day challenge, ended up being a year plus of daily posts.   Even though the time included hospitalization with a scary illness, there was still always something good if I chose to look for it. Being intentional takes work but is so rewarding!

Psalms 9:1 says,  “ I will give thanks to the Lord with my whole heart; I will recount all of your wonderful deeds.” He has blessed us indeed.  The least we can do is live with a heart of gratitude!

What are you most thankful for today? I’d love to hear your list!

Magnificent Adversity ~ Finding Purpose in Pain

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His face seemed sad as he sat quietly beside me. I could tell he wanted to chat, to tell me the thoughts currently plaguing his mind.  

I struggled knowing the right questions to ask, though I could guess exactly what was coming.  

I had urged him to go to an overnight multi church event, telling him it would be fun. 

He’d been hesitant, but agreed to go. 

Since his little sister died 5 years ago, sleep has been an issue, so I obtained permission for him to bring his audio book and a noise machine our family has found to be helpful, pushing back the worry that it may be another way to set him apart. 

Sure enough.  

I watched my son, with tears in his eyes, explain how he had been the object of jokes and how the other boys had told him in plain english that he just wasn’t cool enough to be with them.  

Ugh.

I’ve thought as he’s grown, that boys are so much less drama than girls.  

How incorrect my assumption!   

I know my son is different.  

He’s left handed, dislexic, and big for his age.  

He prefers entertaining younger children over playing games with his peers and still, at age 12,  loves Thomas the Tank engine. 

He’s never been into playing ball or sports of any kind, thought we’ve offered to get him involved. 

Despite the list of things he’s not, he is a mastermind at fixing things. 

He is my troubleshooter, fixing anything from my broken food processor to the tv remote. 

Reading the hard copy of a book is not his strength but he has devoured close to a hundred full length, age/grade appropriate audio books in the past few months. 

Parenting has had many surprising twists and turns. 

I did not anticipate the sheer amount of drama that presents its ugly self each day. 

I remember some drama as a kid but the stuff my kids have experienced makes me contemplate moving the family to a deserted island. 

Just kidding of course.  

In all seriousness though, I long to protect them and just make things be ok. I wish life would treat them kindly.  Not that we need a pass for doses of extra kindness, but from my vantage point, grief pretty much made their playing field uneven, rough at the edges.  

I pray for Godly, kind friendships for each of my children and that they could be kind as God is kind, loving the unlovely and the unpopular. 

Mostly, I hope that I am not making them into feeble, frail persons who as adults will embrace a victim mentality, holding on tightly to every hurtful situation.  

As I continue to observe their stories unfolding, I am made painfully aware of how much I am just like them, insecure, awkward, unsure of who exactly God made me to be. 

This past year has been a real exercise in reminding myself almost daily that I am not the sum of what people have said and surmised me to be.

The pain of being labeled and defined by one’s weakness and past can squeeze the very life out of a hurting soul. 

It’s especially difficult when the most hateful of actions and words come from those professing the name of Christ. 

My teenage daughter spoke complete truth from one of our family’s lowest points this past summer stating simply that if the actions we have seen represent Christianity, she wants nothing of it, no part!

What then is the basis of living like Jesus, learning what God is trying to teach us and finding the good in our adversities?  

1 Thessalonians 5:11 says very simply “Encourage one another and build each other up”….

How do we do that?

The start may simply be understanding that God created each and everyone of us with meaning and purpose and treating those around us with that awareness. 

I recently sat through a super fun, community class where the main focus was studying personality differences.  We looked at our own strengths, weaknesses, joys and needs and then evaluated which other natures we get along with the easiest and how very important it is to remember the need for each and every personality God created. 

While some of the hard times in life revolve around more than simple personality differences, evaluating the reactions of others based on how God created them may help us extend grace much more freely. 

Maybe our focus is key?  

I am hoping that my children will see me work through my own pain, insecurity and awkwardness in healthy ways and that they will find the courage to seek and find God’s unique purpose for each of them and offer that grace to others. 

Living Deliberately

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Today my sweet friend buries her mother.

As I sat and chatted with her a few weeks back, she shared how she had helped her mom pick out the dress and jewelry she would be buried in. As I stood at the casket admiring the sparkle of the fabric and the beauty of the necklace, my mind of course went back to another time and another casket and the thoughts of those moments swirling in my brain.

Each death I observe seems to have that jarring effect.

My mom lost her first sibling a few months back, a brother just younger then her. They were close. My siblings and I are close to his kids. Watching them grieve has made me think about life in that sobering, change your thinking kind of way. Again.

After Abby died, I thought for sure I would never slip back into my old complacency and the lack of living intentionally. Sadly, I all to easily find myself there.

I don’t know if I will ever come to the place where guilt does not plague the thoughts of my last moments with her.

I was busy, to busy to stop and enjoy the moments.

As much as I know guilt is not the place to live, I struggle with the muddle at that very thin line between feeling sadly and living in peace.

Relationships and life in general can be intense and exhausting. Watching my friend and my cousins cope with the reality of sickness and death has reminded me much how the effort of multiple weekend trips or the time for the phone call are to soon memories and the only tokens left of the life of someone who was a deep integral part of our very foundation.

As I wrote much on my facebook grief page, I often ended with “mamas, GO hug your babies”.

That hug, smile or kind words may be the last moments we get to share.

We don’t know.

We aren’t promised tomorrow.

All we have are the moments right in front of us right now.

For me that means putting down my device or the work I think will never end and listening to my sweet daughters who both still love to talk to me, sometimes incessantly. It means hugging my touch loving son multiple times a day. It’s about calling my own sweet mama for our daily chat.

It boils down to cherishing the good, the bad and the ugly and embracing a life of intentional love.

Beautiful Words

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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.

5 years

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The darker the night, the brighter the stars, the deeper the grief, the closer is God…

Fyoder Dostoevsky

I often wondered how I might feel as this date approaches. 5 years. 5 long years. 5 years since God decided it was time for one of his gifts to come back to Him. I had thought prior to this part of our journey, that I would not be able to physically bear the loss. But I have survived. We have survived through God and his strength alone.

It’s hard to know how and when grief will present itself again and crush you into a crumbled heap reliving the nightmare that never ends. I have not cried as I did on a daily basis for quite sometime, until today. It feels only natural to go back through the detail of the memories of the event and the days surrounding it.

One day our life was normal. We walked along together.

Then grief came and we experienced death and our lives were overturned, upset forever.

I was always one who stayed as far away from death as possible. I thought people who took pictures of death were the oddest creatures alive. (deceased in casket etc) But on this side of death and grief, it looks different. And though the pictures were the hardest to look at for the first while, they are strangely comforting now. **warning: stop reading here if you are like I used to be…pics to follow. Several different persons took the photos in this blog. Evonda Marner, Janice Marner, Shawna Riche, Alaynna Schwartz, Natalie Yutzy….

This is the hardest to look at. I can still feel deeply the inability to breathe. I can remember the people around and family and friends singing “Safe In the Arms of Jesus” as the last machine was unplugged. How quickly her little body grew stiff, is a sensation I wish I could erase. And then we had to sign the hundreds of papers ok-ing donation of her eyes, her tissue, which never happened due to infection. Janice stayed with her as she got cleaned up and got all the wires taken off. Then it was time for final goodbyes before she was taken for autopsy.

Then there was the walk from the hospital to our van. I kept feeling lost. So lost. I only had 3 children with me and I often said that feeling is like stepping out the door and realizing you have no clothes on or leaving for town and forgetting your purse….

Funeral planning. Ahhh that part. It’s not natural. Children plan their parent’s funeral. Not vice versa. It’s seriously the hardest thing I have ever had to do. Thankfully Janice and friend Karma did a lot of thinking and planning for us. Thinking about capturing her memory added a lot of flavors to the week and to the actual funeral service. Pink and red toe nails, bare feet, minnie mouse and tidbits from Frozen brought bits of reprieve to the nonstop tears. And the friends and family who came from everywhere. Though my memory is a bit clouded the beauty of the love and care we were surrounded with shown through the pictures is a tribute to family and friends.

The autopsy drug out the time and made us wait several days for the funeral. My 93 year old old order amish grandfather insisted on coming which was so special. He and his sister Rachel were among the few left from their generation. We saw well over a thousand people at the visitation, which took it’s toll on my body and I remember little of the later hours, except my uncle Ira telling people to move aside so they could wheel me out in a wheel chair because the world was spinning and black.

My 93 year old Grandpa
  • Grandpa’s sister Rachel. She lost a young child once too and kept checking on Abby…

Then it was time for the funeral and the longest, hardest walk no mama should ever have to take.

I never noticed how my sister Janice and I look like one person here. But that woman did my breathing for me during the darkest part.

Some of us sat barefoot for the service. Someone brought a recliner in for Grandpa.

The service was filled with special tributes including my brother and sister’s beautiful rendition of Jesus Loves me. Not sure how to put it in here correctly but click on link to here it….

https://www.facebook.com/dorothy.miller.142/videos/vb.1751572627/4338775884869/?type=3

Then it was time to say our final goodbyes.

We ended the day with the release of a bunch of red balloons.

Life has gone on. God has walked with us. With each passing day we are adapting to our new normal forever remembering the zesty 3 almost 4 year old who will forever be a part of our favorite memories.

Abby Marie 9/14/10 ~ 7/15/14

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

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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…

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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