Showing posts with label adversity. Show all posts
Showing posts with label adversity. Show all posts

Saturday, September 8, 2018

Love Rises

My mom and dad have what is surely the best example I know of what an enduring marriage relationship looks like. When I look at their relationship with each other, I see that the strength that holds them together is the inclusion of God. I love the quote by Tennessee Williams, "The violets in the mountains have broken the rocks." Those words paint a miraculous picture of the fragile thing overcoming the hard thing, of beauty and life surviving in the crevices of dark and difficult circumstances. I myself have experienced that marriage is not easy, especially in the face of the ongoing trauma that surrounds having a family member with extensive medical issues. My parents have experienced those circumstances in their marriage, my younger brother having been born with a rare form of muscular dystrophy that compromised his physical health and development throughout his 22 years of life. The experience of chronic trauma in our family was compounded by the additional heartbreak of my brother’s death. My parents’ response to such difficulty and sorrow always has taught me well about the paradox of suffering. They showed me that the pain of suffering brings about the gift of learning to love with no regrets, and learning to limit your focus to the most important things in life. My mom and dad’s example has helped me to understand that the very thing that feels like it is threatening to tear a family apart, can actually be a catalyst that brings deep unity to that family instead. Their example of faith has shown me that by choosing to trust God in circumstances that are unthinkably terrible, I am allowing him the opportunity to turn what seems tragic into something more beautiful than I could ever have imagined. In their marriage, my parents allowed God to carry them to places where they surely never would have chosen to go on their own. They have trusted God through many situations which anyone could not possibly choose to embrace, and which many people would even bitterly say called for resentment. Yet, here they are today, truly living in gratitude for the dark valleys they have journeyed through. Here they are today, privileged to experience a glimpse of a present and a future that is not framed by the lack of what they have lost, but rather by the love of what they have grown. I know that their love today does not exist because they have spent the last 50 years gazing at themselves, or even at each other. I know that their love exists today because over the last 50 years, they have consistently chosen together to look in the direction of God. I am so thankful for their example that the most important thing a husband and a wife can do in their marriage relationship, is to cling to love for God and for each other. My parent’s marriage and their lives are truly evidence that love will always rise when given the opportunity.

“And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.”
‭‭1 Corinthians‬ ‭13:13‬ ‭NIV‬‬

"...I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But he said to me, 'My Grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness'"
2 Corinthians 12:8b-9a NIV


Wednesday, November 2, 2016

Climbing Towards Hope

I was 13 yrs old almost 14 on November 2, 1984. I was an 8th grader in middle school living with my mom and dad and brothers in Illinois, and my biggest decision was if my best friend and I should sleep over at her house or mine on Friday night. My future husband was a sophmore in high school, 14 almost 15 years old. He lived thirty minutes away from me, just down the road from Six Flags Great America, with his mom and little sister. 

We didn't even know each other then.

We barely even knew ourselves. 

Yet, one thousand miles away in Colorado, a baby was born on that day who would one day call us (us!) Mom and Dad. 

Fast-forward twelve years to 1997 and the scene shows my husband and I with our own 4 month old baby Cody, living in Wisconsin. A social worker knocks on our door and after spending five minutes in our living room, she drops off two skinny, mop-headed boys ages 8 and 12, and that is the day we all became family. As a newly married couple of less than two years, ourselves in our mid twenties, with all of four months of parenting experience consisting of changing poopy diapers and rocking a crying baby to sleep, we probably were the farthest from ideal parents that anyone could imagine for these boys. For the almost teenager with autism, Tourette's syndrome, and the beginning whispers of schizophrenia especially - we would not be anyone's first pick. However, at the time, we were the only option available within two counties. No matter - this child had already survived twelve and a half years of storms without an umbrella, and he was not about to drown in the mud puddle of trial and error that we had to offer him. 

I am aware that we were not prepared by the world's standards of what "qualifies" a person to make a difference in the life of a child living with the challenges of disability and a traumatic past. We had no special training and not a whole lot of support from so-called experts... but we did have a home, some extra beds, and a carboard box in the closet full of matchbox cars and a plastic alligator that would appear as treasure to two little boys with no other place to go. 

Nineteen years later, I am constantly looking back and cringing at the hundreds of mistakes we probably made in trying to raise this boy along with his brother, but I know in my heart that we got at least one thing right. We listened to God when He said that we were to show our love for Him by taking care of anyone who had no one. Still, I believe the important part of any story is not what people do or who they are, but what God does and who He is. What we had to offer this child was so inadequate - the times that we failed him and still do are numerous. But God takes anything we are willing to give to Him and uses it for His purpose according to His plan. I look at our story and and I see it is about some very imperfect, uncertain, unremarkable people - and I also see that it is about an amazing God who is so powerful, so compassionate, so capable that He can use our brokeness to accomplish His task exactly as He intended. God knew that baby born in Colorado 32 years ago would eventually become our son. 

When our son reached adulthood, my brother became our son’s guardian and successfully took on the responsibility to mentor him over the last 14 years into becoming a man... a man who serves God and who serves his community and never knows a stranger. At the same time, however, our son is also a man who struggles with his intellectual limitations and with the ominous shadows of mental illness. He, like all of us, lives in the constant tension of who he is, who he wants to be, and the challenges of the obstacles in-between. The past few years have been difficult for him, as his emotional memory and his psychiatric symptoms battle to reconcile with his present life and sense of well-being. It is a painful struggle. 

I have been thinking about my son for hours today, his birth day. My heart is broken because he is spending this day that should be a celebration of his life in the psychiatric unit of an acute care center. I have been crying angry tears because life's circumstances are so unfair and many times cruel. For the millionth time I feel completely helpless in facing the darkness of the terrible things in this world over which we truly have no control. 

However, in the midst of the battle with my feelings, I choose to remember that God is a good and perfect Father. I choose to focus on the promise that He has a plan and a purpose for everyone's life - everyone's. And I choose to believe the truth that even when life's journey takes us down inconceivable paths of hardship and suffering, if we look to God to lead us through, we will get to the magnificent destination where He knows we belong.

So, in my brokenness I am praying to God, and looking for Him wholeheartedly to be at work in this mess. I am determined to be grateful for the many good things in the life of my son, and to continue to be hopeful for an even better future. 

It's very easy to feel the face of God shining on us in the good times. I am thankful for those mountain tops we find where we experience complete joy and satisfaction. However, I'm aware that it is in the difficult climb that I grasp for His hand and ask Him to hold me up in my weariness, and to trade my heavy burden for His lighter one. It is in the hard places that I have truly come to know God, and to find rest for my restless soul. That knowledge is treasure, and so, on his birthday today, I pray that my son will find rest for his, also.

“For I know the plans I have for you,” says the LORD. “They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope. In those days when you pray, I will listen. If you look for me wholeheartedly, you will find me.” Jeremiah 29:11-13 NLT

“Then Jesus said, 'Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you. Let me teach you, because I am humble and gentle at heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy to bear, and the burden I give you is light.'"
Matthew 11:28-30 NLT

“Share your food with the hungry, and give shelter to the homeless. Give clothes to those who need them, and do not hide from relatives who need your help.”
Isaiah 58:7 NLT

“Yet God has made everything beautiful for its own time. He has planted eternity in the human heart, but even so, people cannot see the whole scope of God’s work from beginning to end.”
Ecclesiastes 3:11 NLT






Friday, June 10, 2016

This Flower Called Marriage



Dear Jason,

I love this handmade anniversary card that came in the mail for us from my parents today. I appreciate more and more my mom's talent as a nature photographer. This photo she sent to us is so beautiful - with the flower petals overlapping, one blossom resting on the other, the centers of the growing flowers filled with life-giving pollen. 

This photo reminds me of our marriage on the days it is at its best, but ironically, it is often-times that those good marriage days are some of the hardest "life" days. 

I think about how we are entangled with each other, our lives woven together over the last 28 years since we met, our history overlapping like these flower petals. We are steadier in a storm because we are standing together, even in the times we ourselves feel like pushing or pulling away, even when our circumstances attempt to push or pull us away. Being interwoven almost forces us to persevere together, in order to survive at all. I reminisce about how we each have had in the past and will again have in the future, our stronger times and our weaker times. (Thankfully, usually not at the SAME time!) During those times, each of us knows we can lean on the other, lay our head against a loving shoulder and feel supported, even in the times when there are no words to help. Sometimes, just being able to rest on each other renews our strength to continue the climb.

I gaze at the yellow center of the flowers, where the pollen's purpose is to give life. I know you will agree we discovered early on that we will surely fail each other often - that neither of us are perfect, and that neither one of us can be the other's savior- no matter how much we desire to rescue each other. I believe we have both learned that putting each other at our center is as destructive as putting our own self or our children or our finances or our health in that most central place. More importantly, I believe we have learned individually, and as a couple, to keep God at our center, because God is where our marriage draws its life from, and God is the source for our relationship to create seeds that grow fruit such as love, consideration, patience, and faithfulness.

I sit here journaling on this night before our 22nd anniversary, contemplating this beautiful photo, my mind flooded by this entire garden of thoughts accompanying the sweet sentiment from my parents. I am overwhelmed by the glimpses of truth revealed in such a small piece of creation. I am fully graced by God's love for both of us and for our family. I am grateful for the gift He has blessed me with by planting you and me together, so that we may share deep roots in the rich soil of His goodness. I know that we will continue to weather the fierce storms and the burning heat of each drought, and I know that we will also continue to soak up the gentle rains and life-light of the sun. I know that we will thrive together, all the while leaning on each other, and faithfully keeping our faces hope-filled and upturned to gaze at Him. 

My prayer for you this next year, my husband, is from Ephesians 3:14-19, "When I think of all this, I fall to my knees and pray to the Father, the Creator of everything in heaven and on earth. I pray that from His glorious, unlimited resources He will empower you with inner strength through His Spirit. Then Christ will continue to make His home in your heart as you trust in him. Your roots will grow down into God’s love and keep you strong. And may you have the power to understand, as all God’s people should, how wide, how long, how high, and how deep His love is. May you experience the love of Christ, though it is too great to understand fully. Then you will be made complete with all the fullness of life and power that comes from God."

And my prayer for our marriage follows in verse 20, 
"Now all glory to God, who is able, through his mighty power at work within us, to accomplish infinitely more than we might ask or think."

Happy Anniversary,
I love you always.

“I have heard all about you, Lord. I am filled with awe by your amazing works. In this time of our deep need, help us again as you did in years gone by... remember your mercy.”
Habakkuk 3:2 NLT

"They are like trees planted along a riverbank, with roots that reach deep into the water. Such trees are not bothered by the heat or worried by long months of drought. Their leaves stay green, and they never stop producing fruit."
Jeremiah 17:8 NLT

“I will send you the seasonal rains. The land will then yield its crops, and the trees of the field will produce their fruit... I will walk among you; I will be your God, and you will be my people.”
Leviticus 26:4,12 NLT

                    June 11, 1994


Another Anniversary Post:


Monday, December 21, 2015

The Light Side of Dark

"THERE ARE STORIES ABOUT WHAT HAPPENED... IT'S TRUE. ALL OF IT. THE DARK SIDE, THE JEDI. THEY'RE REAL." 

My husband, my son, and I had a dinner and movie date last night, and we went to see the new episode of StarWars. It was so great seeing some of the old characters and storylines blend into new exciting ones, and others conclude as lives reaped what had been sown. As I watched the story on the screen whose beginning first thrilled me when I was the age of 6 years old, the story which continued to unfold across my lifetime to where my present age is 45 years old, I couldn't help but consider the allegorical connection. I thought about how we don't know at the beginning of our life stories where the adventures will lead - what conflicts might come, what relationships will develop, what trials will be faced, what lessons learned. Maybe if we did, we would choose to skip the hard parts, the scary parts, the parts and the people that bring difficulty and distress. However, we need to realize that it's by experiencing the conflict - facing each challenge, living through pain and fear and anger and sadness, gleaning the good stuff and leaving behind the bad - that we are able to find the blessings of satisfaction, of gratitude, of contentment, of joy. It's by choosing to live through every moment written for us that we get to the ending that was meant for us. 

IT'S BY CHOOSING TO LIVE THROUGH EVERY MOMENT WRITTEN FOR US THAT WE GET TO THE ENDING THAT WAS MEANT FOR US.

Last night, as I sat in the theater next to my husband and my grown son watching the continuation of a life spanning saga unfold on the movie screen, I thought of the numerous challenges I've encountered both in marriage and in parenthood. As difficult as many of those experiences have been, I know without hesitation that I would purposefully choose to relive each arduous moment because I believe it is only with the toil that an appreciation for the preciousness of contented moments grows, such as the gratitude and joy I feel in just spending time with my family. 

As the movie ended with the scene of the scarred hero contemplating the light saber marked with his life experiences held out by the hope filled young heroine, my StarWars-inspired reflection ended with these conclusions: 
1) The prize of a valuable relationship is worth the difficult responsibility required in striving for that connection to live and to flourish. 
2) No matter how dark the circumstances around us seem to be, there is there is nothing so dark that it cannot be overcome by light. Like the Apostle John wrote in chapter 1 of his book, "The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness can never extinguish it.” 

Oh, and StarWars: Episode VII? Definitely four stars! ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Sunday, August 23, 2015

Relentless

I attended a summer youth camp as a nurse a few weeks ago.  A few times that week, I was able to get away from the health center in the evening to listen to the guest speaker. One night as he talked, the speaker hushed the large audience into silence and directed each of us to wait and listen for God to whisper a word into our heart. The word that came to my mind and echoed over and over again was "relentless". It wasn't a word that had been on my mind or in my conversation that week, but the feeling that came over me as I thought about it during that moment, was almost one of familiarity. Hearing the word in my head felt confirming… like when elderly folks empathetically discuss the difficult happenings in someone else's life, nodding their heads up and down in understanding that life is not easy, and that every person is faced with their own set of struggles and disappointments as they move through one day after another.


I quietly slipped through the side door to return to my nursing duties, and was not surprised to be quickly followed by my most “frequent flier”. I greeted him affectionately, and asked if he needed something, although I suspected I knew what it was.


“The bandage came off again,” he said sheepishly, hands in his pocket


“How do you know?” I asked, looking curiously at his feet which were enclosed in both socks and shoes, just as they had been forty minutes earlier. I myself, had carefully eased the sock over his right foot, then watched as he put on and then tied the shoes I had directed him to wear instead of the flip.-flops he had been wearing throughout that day.


“Well, I had to look at it!” he said in a worried voice, anxiety clouding his deep brown eyes. “I know that stick poked into my bone. It probably has a hole in it! It’s gonna rot my foot off!”


I sighed as I thought about the 4 or 5 times I had already rebandaged a small cut under his toe where a stick had lacerated the skin a couple of hours earlier.


“Buddy,” I said as I handed him two band-aids and sat in a chair, “I promise you, it’s just a small cut in your skin, there is not a hole in your bone, and your foot is not going to rot off… it’s really not!”


He looked at me miserably, and I thought of the note his mom had given me about his struggles with worry, as well as her suggestion that I try and distract him. “Distract him?”  I thought, “I have tried to over and over, all week long! It’s been one small thing after another… some real, some imagined… but, truly, this boy is impossible to be distracted! He is relentless!”


Relentless!


Suddenly, I knew what to do, because God had whispered that word in my ear. “Hey…” I said softly to my young friend. “I’m not going to bandage up your foot anymore. I gave you those two extra bandaids and you can put one of those on it yourself if you would like to. I know that we cleaned it and put ointment on it, and I know that even though it’s a bit sore, it’s gonna heal in a few days, and you’re gonna be just fine!”


“How do you know?” he mumbled, not looking up, shuffling his feet on the floor.


“Because I do,” I said. “God made that skin on your foot to protect your bones from that stick. He made that skin so that even when it gets hurt doing it’s job, it can heal itself by making new cells and becoming strong again. I trust God! I trust that when he made you, he did a great job, and that you are going to be just fine.”


I paused and waited, my eyes on the top of his head.


Finally, he raised his gaze towards me, and his eyes filled with tears. “But I can’t stop thinking about it!”


“Well…” I said, and thought for a moment. “How ‘bout this? Every time you think about it, Buddy - that’s an opportunity to remind yourself that God is relentless in His goodness and in His faithfulness. And even if you think about it a hundred times before you go to bed tonite, that’s a hundred chances you’ll have to thank God for His goodness and His faithfulness and to ask Him for healing.”


I sat back while he contemplated my words silently. As we heard the voices of more kids coming up the sidewalk, he stuffed the bandaids in his pocket. Giving me one last puppy dog look, he disappeared out the door.


After five days of providing around the clock nursing care for hundreds of teens, I went home from that camp drained and exhausted, but in the back of my mind still, was the word that God had given me just the few nights before.


Relentless.


It made me think of the sun shining in the desert, or the ocean waves pounding against a cliff… things that are powerful, naturally driven, connected with both life and destruction.


Relentless.


I turned the word over and over in my mind, and I looked it up in the dictionary:
Relentless. /rəˈlen(t)ləs/ adjective:
oppressively constant; incessant...


I looked it up in the thesaurus:
persistent, continuing, constant, continual, continuous, non-stop, never-ending, unabating, incessant, unceasing, endless, unremitting, unrelenting, unrelieved, unfaltering, unflagging, unwavering, dogged, tenacious, single-minded, tireless, indefatigable...


Indefatigable!!! I knew as I read that particular synonym that God was not using relentless to describe me, because anyone who knows me, knows that I am without a doubt fatigable!


However, this word relentless -  it did seem to describe how I often feel about my own life circumstances, and, more-so perhaps, about the circumstances present in the world around me.


My own family lives daily with the constancy of a chronic incurable disease in our midst. We arrange ourselves - our activities, our conversations, our noise level, our holidays, our relationships… our entire lives really, around the incessant presence of pain. Our need to consider it is never-ending, and our quest to tame it is unwavering. We seem to be in a continual pursuit of balance  - not wanting to bow down to pain by sacrificing our joy, yet not wanting to instigate pain with a disregard for its latent tendency to react strongly to exuberant living. This persistent dilemma of the unknowns about the future is relentless in its attempt to steal today from us.


There are innumerable atrocious circumstances in our present reality. Every day we hear about the horrors in our own country and across the world, of what one or more humans under the influence of unimaginable evil, will do to the most pure and innocent of all people. These situations persistently, continually, constantly, continuously, never-endingly, unabatingly, incessantly, unceasingly, endlessly, unremittingly, unrelievedly, unfalteringly, unflaggingly, unwaveringly, doggedly, tenaciously, single-mindedly, tirelessly, indefatigably never ever stop pursuing destruction. They are relentless!


I began to wonder why God would whisper this discouraging word to me, why he felt a need to plant it within me when I already struggle each day to not drown in heavy laden thoughts of the hopelessness of this world.


I thought again of the relentless sun, shining hotly on the desert plain, baking the ground a full thirty degrees hotter than the stifling air above it, until it cracks into a mass of chaotic grids. I thought of the powerful ocean waves pounding relentlessly against a cliff, undercutting it with sand and water and rock, over and over and over again, steadily destroying it into pieces that crash into the water below.


As I continued over the next weeks to on and off muse over the word, a revelation finally occured to me in the middle of my antagonistic thoughts about it. Relentless, the very word that exemplifies the arduous adversity in life - this word, this very same word, also illustrates everything that my God means to me.


God is relentless in the pursuit of my heart.
God is relentless in his desire for my devotion.
God is relentless in his faithfulness to never leave me on my own,
God is relentless in keeping every single one of the  promises He has made in His Word.


C.S. Lewis said, “The great thing to remember is that, though our feelings come and go, God’s love for us does not. It is not wearied by our sins, or our indifference; and therefore, it is quite relentless…”


The Apostle Paul wrote, “And I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from God’s love. Neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither our fears for today nor our worries about tomorrow—not even the powers of hell can separate us from God’s love.  No power in the sky above or in the earth below—indeed, nothing in all creation will ever be able to separate us from the love of God that is revealed in Christ Jesus our Lord.” (Romans 8:38)


If the same word that describes the circumstances I am surrounded with, also describes my God, then I can only conclude that God is present with me in all of these circumstances.Though the world can be horrific and each day filled with difficulty and suffering, if I walk through the desert in the presence of God, He will be relentless in using what otherwise would steal and to destroy anything good in me, to instead give me life, and to give it to me abundantly. A relentless life is a blessing, not because I avoid the hard things or because I am blind to reality, but because I can walk through the midst of it all with God, and in His presence find peace instead of resentment, calmness instead of anger, patience instead of frustration, and love instead of hatred.


God created the sun to light up the world and nourish His living creation - the same sun that burns, brings life. He created the waves to carry life in the sea, to carry life to the shore - the same waves that crash, carry life.

I think that I finally understand the intention of God in placing that word in my mind one month ago. He was reminding me of who He is, of what He wants, and of His promises to me. He knows that in my humanness, I struggle more often than not, to appreciate and embrace - or at times, to even just tolerate the relentless life I live in. He gave me the gift of a word to remind me to have hope in His faithfulness and to wait for His joy.


The morning after that chapel service at youth camp, as I unlocked the door to the health center, my buddy was standing there waiting for me. I smiled and invited him in, wondering how he had fared through the night with his worry.


“Umm, can I have another bandaid?” he asked, a bit sheepishly.


I held one out to him silently, a questioning grin on my face, I’m sure.


“I know God is going to heal it,” he said confidently, then gave me a sideways look. “I know He is... even though I still think my bone is rotting… even though my foot might fall off.” His confidence waned. “Maybe I should go to the doctor when I get home?” he asked uncertainly.


With a sigh, I pulled out a chair and motioned him to sit down. “C’mon then buddy, take off your shoe and let’s have a look, and let’s go over this again…”


Relentless...


" I’ll never forget the trouble, the utter lostness,
   the taste of ashes, the poison I’ve swallowed.
I remember it all—oh, how well I remember—
   the feeling of hitting the bottom.
But there’s one other thing I remember,
   and remembering, I keep a grip on hope:
God’s loyal love couldn’t have run out,
   his merciful love couldn’t have dried up.
They’re created new every morning.
   How great your faithfulness!
I’m sticking with God (I say it over and over).
   He’s all I’ve got left.
God proves to be good to the man who passionately waits,
   to the woman who diligently seeks.
It’s a good thing to quietly hope,
   quietly hope for help from God."
(Lamentations 3:19-26, The Message Bible)


“And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.”   (Romans 8:28, KJV)


“The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full,”
(John 10:10 NIV)


“Sustain me according to your promise, and I will live; do not let my hope be crushed." 
(Psalm 119:116)

Friday, February 6, 2015

Beyond The Wilderness

A desert wind is a powerful force... It flings waves of sand into undulating dunes, mimicking the motion of the sea. It dries the arid landscape into a myriad of wandering cracks which converge in a hundred variable directions. It ceaselessly erodes crumbling sandstone to expose magnificent sculptures of ombré rock once hidden beneath the loose terrain. It is the destructive force of this stalwart wind that reveals the beauty of the desert plain.

It seems like for a long time, I have been wandering in the wilderness of life, my head down in the gale, my mind open to the voice of my Creator, my spirit ebbing and flowing to and from hope. I have learned more and more to wait with my Father, as He patiently teaches me to stay in the oasis of His arms and the shelter of His will. Lately, I've noticed, He has lifted my chin and shielded my eyes from the brilliance of His light, to show me more of the beauty in the residuum surrounding my life.

I have discovered, as I look around, that my life here in the desert is intersected by many lives near me - each one beautiful in a different way than the next, each one pummeled by circumstances which have shaped the person living it into an exquisite form of mercy and grace, clinging to the hope of our God's sovereign will.


"In His fierce love, God sometimes impels us into the wilderness... Amidst harsh dehydration, God’s presence remains."
-Margaret Feinberg



I do not know why God's journey for me must lead, at times, through heartbreak and anguish and separation and sorrow and the difficulties of the desert. It's hard for me to understand why loving someone requires I must go through times of suffering directly related to that love... but the treasure for me in that mystery is that even so, even so, I find that I am still willing to choose to love. I can only comprehend the catalyst of this voluntary sacrificial love by considering what I know of the generous love of my Savior.


...when Jesus knew that his hour had come to depart out of this world to the Father, having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end. 
-John 13:1 ESV

He loved them to the end!

That is the part that captivates me. That is the part that grabs my heart and begins to try and shape it to look like the heart of Jesus. Knowing the excruciating task of the cross was immediately before him, knowing that the suffering ahead of him was because of the sins of even the very people he was spending his last hours with, even so, even so, Jesus chose to continue to actively love them in their sin. How amazing, how freeing to be always able to choose love and to always make that choice expecting nothing in return!

As I raise my head and look around the wilderness, I see the breathtaking reflection of the love of Jesus Christ in the actions of people whose lives are neighboring mine: 

  • I see one child wild and wounded, embraced for a time by people who have loved and restored her by choice before reluctantly releasing her in obedience and faith, too soon for sane comprehension, into a world of instability and darkeness. I see these people, left behind, continuing to expose their hearts, already raw with the weariness of battle, choosing regardless to continue to grasp in their love still another child... to keep her from drowning herself in silence while covered in iron-willed armor. As they struggle to clothe her spirit instead with light and with hope and with an openness to the healing love of her Heavenly Father, they are desperately aware of the shadowed path ahead that wants to extinguish her flickering flame and wrap her again in grayness and void. Yet, I see they are choosing to love, even so...
  •  I see an abandoned baby boy, received with open arms and open hearts of parents who treasured him without hesitation before they even touched him, despite an awareness of years of expected medical crises and brain surgeries ahead. I see that same boy grown into a young man, ravaged by the emotional effects of his physical battles, still loved, still accepted, even through trying periods of rebelliousness and desperate acting out. I see parents who have loved him unceasingly, even so...
  • I see a beautiful young girl, blind to her own exquisite worth, straining heedlessly against the resolute arms of her steadfast parent, whose overflowing heart refuses to surrender a child to the deception of circumstantial value. I see a parent hanging on with love, even so...
  •  I see a young couple tending their seedling children, nourishing their growth with laughter and faith. I see their faces marked with love and concern as one child wavers at times in the persistent desert sun. I see them reaching up to God in faith, a faith that in turn reaches deep through the desert sand to establish enduring roots of hope and resilience. Already they have learned to bend rather than break with each gust, holding onto the certainty of their Father's hand, even as their child holds to theirs. I see they are determined to never let go of His will, even so...


“Go out and stand before me on the mountain,” the Lord told him. And as Elijah stood there, the Lord passed by, and a mighty windstorm hit the mountain. It was such a terrible blast that the rocks were torn loose, but the Lord was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake. And after the earthquake there was a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire there was the sound of a gentle whisper. When Elijah heard it, he wrapped his face in his cloak and went out and stood at the entrance of the cave. And a voice said,“What are you doing here, Elijah?” 
-1 Kings 19:11-13 NLT

When I find myself in wilderness moments (or days or months or years), even though I may feel afraid or uncertain, I know it is important that I try to remember - God's voice does not consist of the circumstances that are pummeling me. His is the gentle whisper that embraces me and directs my response.


Just as you cannot understand the path of the wind... so you cannot understand the activity of God, who does all things.
-Ecclesiastes 11:5 NLT

Today, I see an orphaned infant turned toddler, joyful in spirit though abandoned at birth to her own circumstances - a precious child adored by all whom she touched, yet a child passed without permanency from person to person to place to place, until one predestined day last summer, she found home in the family who chose and were chosen to love her for keeps. She blossomed like a desert rose exposed to the purity of sunlight. Her face was often lit with a smile and her arms open generously to share whatever was delighting her at the moment. Her family embraced her completely, investing their hearts into her life, choosing to see her through eyes of hope. And hope does not put us to shame, because God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us. (Romans 5:5 ESV) Within a few short months, the life of this little child profoundly touched the family that began to claim her as their own, and she grew their hearts and their experiences in directions they had not conceived of before. In the space of one short day this week, I see this family devastated - yet choosing in faith to trust in the goodness of their God, the Author of their precious child's life, even as they discovered her story had been written so differently than they ever could have known - a story now merged into their own, changing it forever. And while her chapter on this earth may have ended, her presence will never be forgotten. I see her still in my mind, her little arms signing "baby" as she thrilled over her sweet companions sharing the room with us that day. I imagine her right now, snuggled blissfully in the arms of Jesus and enraptured wholly in His love, content to finally be home forever, beyond the wilderness of the desert. She loved until the end.


When I think of all this, I fall to my knees and pray to the Father, the Creator of everything in heaven and on earth. I pray that from his glorious, unlimited resources he will empower you with inner strength through his Spirit. Then Christ will make his home in your hearts as you trust in him. Your roots will grow down into God’s love and keep you strong. And may you have the power to understand, as all God’s people should, how wide, how long, how high, and how deep his love is. May you experience the love of Christ, though it is too great to understand fully. Then you will be made complete with all the fullness of life and power that comes from God. Now all glory to God, who is able, through his mighty power at work within us, to accomplish infinitely more than we might ask or think. 
-Ephesians 3:14-20 NLT

You will show me the way of life, granting me the joy of your presence and the pleasures of living with you forever.
-Psalm 16:11 NLT






Monday, November 24, 2014

Until Then, Choose Gratitude


When a gardener plants a flower bulb, she has a vision in mind of the promise of the bloom that will in time grow from that seed. The gardener understands that there is a season for a bulb to remain buried in the dirt, protected from the ice and the wind and the cold while remaining blind to the sun and its light. 

I have been thinking considerably about what it means to be grateful. What I am coming to believe is that gratitude is a concept that encompasses so much more than saying “I'm thankful”. Gratitude is truly valuing the experience, the person, the action, the object - truly valuing the intentions God has for bringing a circumstance into my life. For me, my response to a circumstance affects my ability to find that value. When I respond to a circumstance by choosing to trust God's intention is good, I am showing that I find value in his faithfulness. Attaching that value to a circumstance allows me to have a grateful attitude even when what God has brought me to does not appear to be overtly desirable in my limited perspective.


Gratitude is truly valuing the intentions God 
has for bringing a circumstance into my life.


The gardener knows that eventually, after a time of waiting, there comes a season for the bulb to release the bud, for the bud to break out of the shell that has protected it for a time, and for the shell to become a part of the root system that supports new growth. There comes a season when the nourishment of light from the sun and of moisture from the rain is necessary to the life of the tender young plant. In each of these seasons and with each of these processes, these elements are unpredictable and uncontrolled by the gardener. She must trust that the season appointed for the miracle of the flower blooming is ideal for its growth, despite a dependency on factors not foreseeable at the time of the planting. 

It seems like I am forever balancing on a seesaw of emotion. Wonderful news, heartbreaking news, amazing news, desperate news. At times, I feel weak as I watch the fray of the strings I’ve attached to the circumstances which I find acceptable or comfortable. In my self-centered way, I long to keep life safe, peaceful, controllable. However, in my weakness, I realize that my mere human point of view is limited and incomplete. 


Each day, the gardener tends to the flower, supplementing it with water and with fertilizer as needed in order to support survival and ultimately, the blooming of the plant. One day, after seasons of patient waiting, after days of careful tending, and after faithful persevering through unpredictable weather, the beautiful bloom of the flower appears in all of its magnificent glory.

I know in my heart, if I choose to walk away from the difficult things, if I choose to to walk away from the waiting times - then I am choosing to walk away from the blessings that the processes of the waiting and the enduring will lead me to. I believe in the hope of those blessings because I know God is faithful in his plans of goodness, that he sees the picture of the entire garden in bloom and the beauty in each growth process that leads to that splendor. Still, the toil of the meantime and my limited view of the mud surrounding me challenge my attitude of hope and my ability to value a splendor I cannot yet see.

the toil of the meantime and 
my limited view of the mud surrounding me challenge my attitude of hope 
and my ability to value a splendor I cannot yet see

To patiently wait for the seasons to pass, for the rain to fall, and for the sun to shine are difficult but valuable parts of the growing process. Life is not easy or certain, even in the middle of living God's will. At times, I want to hurry this process along or skip it altogether. At times, I focus only on myself and begin to believe the lie that I deserve to be happy and appeased at all times, that I am entitled to ease, and that avoiding adversity would solve all of my problems. At times, I focus on the life of someone else, and I am deceived by the thought that circumstances other than my own would lead to a better harvest than the one I am struggling for. When I allow my mind to linger on these thoughts, I am choosing not to find the value of the truth. I am choosing to disregard gratitude and instead to believe lies that leave me wallowing in virulent conditions which cultivate bitterness, lead me to despair, and abandon me in darkness.



the painful process of growing 
is a part of the blessing of harvest

Instead of searching for an escape or for an excuse when I become discouraged and weary, I need to be reminded that God did not promise me ease. In fact, God is completely upfront with me in his Word, telling me that I will be tested and that I will feel persecuted by my circumstances, but that the painful process of growing is a part of the blessing of harvest. In the same scriptures, he encourages me that these are the circumstances I can and must endure through. These are the times that I must wait patiently in as he cultivates me to become the mature woman of faith he created me to be, to bloom as he has promised, to become more and more a reflection of Christ, and to harvest his best plan for my life. I need to believe in the the magnificent oasis of his truth, to choose the quiet joy of waiting at his feet for the sunshine and the rain, while being patient in the pruning and in the wind and in the drought. I need to choose to see the value of the process so that I can experience gratitude for the circumstances which bring me to God’s best.

So, here I am, my heart breaking with the pain of a child facing an uninvited future one thousand times more difficult than any he or I would have chosen for his life. Here I am, my heart breaking with the pain of a husband enduring an endless climb up a rocky mountainside covered with slippery slopes and isolating ledges, navigating a path that bears no resemblance to one we would have chosen to walk. Here I am, my heart breaking with the pain of a friend who is daily looking straight into the face of darkness as her arms and her soul protectively encircle two children who have sustained unimaginable horrors, yet, she remains faithfully exposed with them to preposterous situations that she would never have chosen to bring them to. These are just some of the circumstances that surround me and press in on me and call out for me to turn away from the waiting, shriek at me to protect my heart, taunt me to give up on persevering through the unknown. It is excruciating at times to find value in these circumstances that are not what I would have chosen for myself or for these that I love. In this difficulty and in this pain are where I must recognize that
God is the one who has chosen, and therefore, the value lies in his purpose, in his ultimate plan for goodness and victory, in his promise that these choices that require us to wait and to suffer and to endure will absolutely with all certainty lead us to a time when we will view our struggles in hindsight as the blink of an eye.

I believe that one day, I will be able to value fully these circumstances that are leading me to a place where God will wipe every tear from my eyes, and where there will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain, and where all of these things will be gone forever. Until then, I will faithfully plant the seeds God gives me. Until then, I will look to God in expectation to provide the sun and the rain and the resources I need to patiently endure the waiting time and the seasons that remain before the harvest. Until then, I will make every effort to choose to live in gratitude and with joy by valuing the promise that lies beyond the growing time instead of believing the deception that I am entitled to ease and gratification in the here and now.

Until then...




“Dear brothers and sisters, be patient as you wait for the Lord’s return. Consider the farmers who patiently wait for the rains in the fall and in the spring. They eagerly look for the valuable harvest to ripen. You, too, must be patient. Take courage, for the coming of the Lord is near.” James 5:7-8



“‘For I know the plans I have for you,’ says the Lord. ‘They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope.’” Jeremiah 29:11



“He will wipe every tear from their eyes, and there will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain. All these things are gone forever.” Revelation 21:4