Impossible Possibility

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!

What Grief Is Not

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!

To Love and To Flourish

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….

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!

An ode to my love…

Time keeps going, this we know from that place we stood so long ago.

We thought we knew what love was about. So young we were but our love was stout.

After the wedding, living began. We moved across the ocean then back again.

We didn’t know what each day would bring, but God has been faithful through everything.

Adventures we’ve had. Placed we’ve gone. We buried a child and yet life went on.

It wasn’t all roses, this is no lie. But Jesus changed all, his light’s in your eyes.

Life keeps moving at too fast a pace. The last few years have brought fresh new space.

If there’s one thing unchanging and true, if I could go back I’d still choose you!

Haiti – 1999

2014 – Soon after Jesus changed our lives


2019 – Our favorite place, the ocean

Ice Cream & Flat Tires – A Quarantine Field Trip

Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble. Matthew 6:34

We recently acquired an old dilapidated 1978 semi trailer we want to use for storage for an upcoming family project.  This past Saturday was designated as pickup day. The day dawned bright and clear, a happy upgrade from the dreary skies and snow of the week prior. I offered Hunter the chance to ride with Lowell in the semi on the trek to Sumner, a town about 100 miles away. He declined, which was how I had secretly hoped his response to be. I joined Lowell in the small bouncy passenger seat of the semi he borrowed from work, both excited and nervous at what the day would bring. 

Upon arrival at our destination, the true condition of our purchase met our eyes. Several hours and much frustration later plus me learning more about tires than I cared to, we ever so slowly crept out the dusty farm drive with our slightly precarious newest belonging in tow.  Had it been my choice, we would have gone home and returned the next weekend with a truck load of tools and supplies to make our purchase road safe. I happen, however, to be married to Mr. Fixit himself and his choice was to take the scenic route home and hope for the best. I located a tire shop that had just closed 15 minutes prior who agreed to sell us a used tire just in case.  

So off we started.  

My job was to keep an eye on my side of the trailer via the rear view mirror.  As I observed from my bouncy post, I envisioned pieces of black rubber exploding onto the country roadside and the flashes of the DOT officer vehicles coming to apprehend us for being unsafe citizens. 

Despite my apprehension, the trip continued splendidly.  Farmers out in their fields, families out on walks and new blooms on the trees along with the greenest grass I have seen this season filled our view.  Because our speed couldn’t get too high, we noticed many things we’d otherwise have been speeding along too fast to see. 

We found the most delightful ice cream shop, a cute little mom and pop place called Tootsies.  The smell of grilled burgers wafted out the windows as we placed our order off a menu the size of Texas.  As we waited on burgers, Lowell found another little mom and pop hardware where he procured some more tools for our small stash.  

I don’t think I have ever been so relieved to see our driveway.  Both of us sighed in relief at having made the trek safely with our arrival time being only about 5 hours later than we had expected. 

Later as I pondered the day, I was suddenly overcome with emotion at the fun day I had had with just my hubby.  It was both spontaneously fun and nerve wracking, anxiety producing and entertaining.  

Life has been kind of like that lately. 

I have fluctuated back and forth from enjoying the uninterrupted time with my family to wishing they could leave me in quiet for just an hour. I have loved not having to get up and ready for work but still spend portions of each day freaking out at the lack of income. 

Quarantine has been a gift.  

Perspective seems to be the only thing we can currently control. 

I’m exceedingly grateful for God’s gifts, like rides home on the scenic route.  He has ways to calm our worry and remind us of the beauty in the world around us!

He is good.

Walking Each Other Home (Valentine Giveaway)

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

“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”

And If Not

I’ve been sitting on these 3 small, seemingly insignificant tittles of our English language for quite some time. Continued notions zoom by as I have played them over and over intertwining them with the plaguing unanswered questions that seem to be on constant replay.

I have noted myself to be a person of contrast, sometimes gullible and easily swayed, yet firmly grounded in what I have found to be truth.

My parents taught me about prayer at a young age, a gift I cherish and enjoy to this day. They showed me God’s personal side, and his love for us, his beautiful creation, and how very much He pays attention to the small details in our lives.

As I have grown older, I find myself somewhat callous and honestly, at times, questioning. Do my prayers matter? Is God really who he says he is? Is Heaven real?

The heavy load of grief has saddled many a dear soul close to me, including my own.

Sometimes I find myself wondering why we even pray for healing, financial miracles or restoration of a marriage.

Did I just say that out loud?

Recently though I was reminded of the why we do exactly that.

A sweet friend recently lost her husband to a brutal brain tumor. On the post announcing his passing, the one line caught my eye. Through my tears, I have gone back to it several times. “although our hearts are broken, we rejoice with him that our prayers for complete healing were answered…”

God did not close his ears to the prayers of healing for this man, he just answered them in a different way then hoped.

Heaven is perfection, complete healing. Whereas staying here presents the reality of continued pressures, problems and pain.

While seasons may bring us to different places in our thought processes, the reality of our foundation is God’s faithfulness and knowledge of what we truly need most.

He invites us to ask the most difficult questions with the assurance that his shoulders are big enough to handle them.

His call to us is simple yet profound.

In Matthew 17 he says, “Truly I tell you, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you.

He, sweet friend, is bigger and more capable then the what we see as unanswered prayers and every “and if not” moment we face.

What Matters Most

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.