Kids.

Over the next few weeks, my family is getting ready for a bunch of transitions. Today, my son attended orientation for his summer post-high school college program.  Tuesday, I'll gather up my daughters and head to Freshman Orientation. Never in my life have I been so compelled to pray for my people. There's just nothing like watching your little people get big-- it heightens your awareness of your complete ineptitude to actually teach a child everything they need to know in only 18 years, your inability to protect them every second of every day, your helplessness to ensure they make only great decisions all the time. 

And, it's not just my own people that take up the pages in my prayer journal. Along the way, even though I joke that I only like other people's kids on a "case-by-case basis," I have gotten to know and love an awful lot of children.  Yesterday, I got to attend the wedding of a boy who served in children's ministry when he was just a young teenager. I gasped for air when he appeared at the top of the aisle, looking all grown-uppy and hopeful. I cried like a baby when I saw him tear up when he saw his bride. I prayed with all my heart for  this new little family- for this boy who has been in my prayers for years and years.

This month is the month of graduation announcements, too. One after another have trickled in, beautiful portraits of amazing children who have grown up right before my very eyes. I feel so proud of these kids, as if they were my own, when I read about their accomplishments, when they share with me their plans for college and career, when they confess to me that they are a little scared about the future. I've been working on their graduation gifts, and the notes that tell them that God's put them on my heart to pray for them all this time, and remind them that God's got big plans for them.

At church this week, Pastor Andrew urged us in the importance of investing in the children of our community in addition to the ones who live in our homes. He challenged us to pray for a different thing each day this week:

Monday- that our kids will remain safe from evil
Tuesday- that they would follow the Truth
Wednesday that Sandals (our church) would be a place where kids are loved
Thursday- that our kids would always keep God first
Friday- for those who currently lead and care for the kids,
Saturday- that God would reveal to us what our role should be in caring for God's kids.

The former children's ministry leader in me loves this simple but sweet challenge. The idea of an entire church community agreeing in prayer that children are worth an investment is a beautiful thing. I love that we are taking time to acknowledge the value of children's ministry in any form, and the importance of taking it seriously. 

The mother in me loves it, too. I love that there are people (who are not me) who also care about what becomes of my children.  Do you know that the campus youth pastor, Tim, has- on more than one occasion- driven clear across the county to the podunk town where my son attends high school just to take the kid to lunch? That's investing, my friends. The simple act means more than we can even understand right now.  

Pastor Andrew gave us a reminder that it really just takes one significant adult relationship to make a difference in a child's life, something I've seen with my own two eyes. Yet,I'm currently holding back a little these days. I have kind of stalled out with taking the time/making the effort to invest in new children for whom I haven't already developed a bond. 

I confess- I can give you a laundry list of excuses of why I would rather "focus on my own family right now" -- my plate is fuller than full these days, my heart is still healing from the trauma of last year, my energies are spent during the week now that I'm back to working at a school again, my patience is waning with old age, I don't have as many opportunities as I used to, I'm tired.

The hard fact is that  these excuses are just that- excuses.  Truth is, we always find time/money/energy for the things we value. If I want to claim that I value the same things that are valuable to Jesus, then I must make an effort to see children as valuable, too. That means looking beyond myself, my hurts, my limitations, and honestly asking God what my current role should be.

Is this to imply I have to go back into full-time children's ministry? Does that mean I need to go in a classroom where I am convinced I am not being called at this time?  I don't think so.  It does, however, mean that I need to be in prayer so that I am aware of the opportunities to invest in children when God points them out to me. It doesn't have to be a big production, it can be a simple, little thing:
  

And if you give even a cup of cold water to one of the least of my followers, you will surely be rewarded. Matthew 10:42 NLT

Will you consider joining me in prayer for the children in your church/community this week?  I would certainly enjoy the company. Also, will you sincerely ask God what your role should be in the lives of children not your own when we get to Saturday? I know that when I ask Jesus on Saturday "What would You have me to do with the time, energy, skills, and experience that I have to invest in a single child or a group of children?"- I will sure love your prayers that I'll hear His answer louder than I can hear all the reasons why I can't. I'll be praying for you, too.

Now that I am old and gray, do not abandon me, O God. Let me proclaim your power to this new generation, Your mighty miracles to all who come after me. 

Psalm 71:18 NLT

Eighteen.

This morning, I woke up to the staggering realization that my firstborn is a man.

shoot. I told myself I wouldn't cry.

It feels like I wrote this post yesterday. In it, I reflected on my son who was suddenly a teenager. I worried how I would parent such a creature. I was frustrated with his early teen punk attitude, I was excited about the future, I wondered what was ahead.

and then, I blinked.

And out of the blue, here we are- he's 18 today. Once again, I'm at a loss for words... instead of fumbling through, I think I'm gonna copy my idea from 2008 and just post my rambly, raw, prayer journal entry for today, a quick 5 years later ....

Lord- Today is the 18th anniversary of the day you put Spencer in my arms.

Thank You.

It's the day my name changed to Mom. It's the day I learned what deep, achy, true, rich, sacrificial love feels like. 

How do I ever thank You for that?

I pray that You show me how to care for this boy who is now a man but will always be my child.

I pray Joshua 1:9 for him- May he always be STRONG and COURAGEOUS. Let him not be afraid or discouraged. Let him feel You with him wherever he goes.

Jesus, let him choose to follow You now that the parameters of his free will have been expanded. Let him learn from his mistakes. Let him know how to admit when he is wrong, fix what is broken, celebrate other's accomplishments. Protect him from his own youthful pride. Let him be humble enough to grow and learn and become the adult you created him to be.  

Guide his steps, O Lord- as he makes so many major life decisions over the next few years- education, career, financial, where he lives, who he will marry... 

let him first choose You.  

Please let him get through graduation. Let him finish high school well.  Let him succeed with his education- let him find adult friends who urge him to make godly choices. Let him be honorable, honest, compassionate, and kind. Let him learn to serve you and care for others.  

God, teach me how to be the mother of a man. 

Let me love him and let him go out on his own so he will not ever be hindered by my actions or attitudes.

Please fill in the gaps where my parenting lacked- I know I fell down on the job many times. I smothered, I neglected, I overreacted, I underreacted, I was too hard on him, I was too easy on him. Please forgive me. You know I tried to do well. Thank you for using me even in my weaknesses. 

Let him always know how much he's loved- by You and by me.

You are amazing, Lord! What a wonderful, beautiful, responsible, smart, funny, odd, amazing person you created! I am thoroughly enjoying him these days. I love laughing with him, talking with him, counting on him.  He's a true joy to me. Thank you for letting me love him. Keep teaching me how to love him right. 

Bless him Lord! 

Being a mother is a trip and a half. I have always half-joked that it's an experiment.  I do the best that I know how and see if it turns out in the end... I am thankful that I can trust in God, who loves Spencer more than I do, to correct my mistakes and to make the lessons we've been teaching him over the last 18 years stick. I can't wait to see what God has in store for this amazing kid as he steps into adulthood.

now, will someone please pass Momma a tissue?

 This is my command—be strong and courageous! Do not be afraid or discouraged. For the Lord your God is with you wherever you go

Joshua 1:9 (NLT)

release.

When our pastor came out after worship time, he warned that today was going to be a heavy message. I settled into my seat and pulled my Bible closer. How bad could it be? I thought. We're on a series looking at Kindness.  Last week, we studied how kindness will overflow from our hearts once we understand how kind God is to us. We left with a challenge to be kinder to the people we love and who love us. (For the record, I totally nailed that challenge. I was superkind last week to my husband. *huffs on fingernails and buffs them on shirt*)

I felt so confident, I didn't even see it coming- the first scripture of the day:

“You have heard the law that says, ‘Love your neighbor’ and hate your enemy.  But I say, love your enemies! Pray for those who persecute you! In that way, you will be acting as true children of your Father in heaven. For he gives his sunlight to both the evil and the good, and he sends rain on the just and the unjust alike.  If you love only those who love you, what reward is there for that? Even corrupt tax collectors do that much.  If you are kind only to your friends, how are you different from anyone else? Even pagans do that. But you are to be perfect, even as your Father in heaven is perfect.

Matthew 5:43-48 NLT

"Today," our pastor announced, "we are going to talk about loving our enemies." My heart froze mid-beat.

You guys, before we go on, I have to confess something I'm not proud of. Truth is, I have hatred in my heart for a particular man. I have justified this hate because this man is really a bad guy. He preaches the name of Jesus, but he tells lies and he deceives large groups of people and he slanders people's names- mine included. He is a bully and a liar and he gets away with it. This makes me mad. When I think about him, all I can think of is the evil smirk on his face as I suffered through one of the worst moments of my life and I just want to spit nails.

So, naturally, his name is what came to mind as our pastor continued to explore the biblical evidence for Christ's requirement that we not just love the people who love us- that's easy- but to love also those who persecute us. 

dang.

Throughout the sermon, I listened and took notes like a good little church girl, but on the inside, I was plugging my fingers in my ears and singing "LALALALALALA I'M NOT LISTENING" and when that got annoying, I folded my arms and made a mental pouty face and stomped my foot to prove that I didn't have to hear this junk because I HAVE MY REASONS, MISTER, AND THEY ARE GOOD ONES, OKAY?

At some point, I tired of my childish, bratty, stubborn behavior and I looked down at my notes.  Apparently, I had written these words,

(yes, I redacted the name, and yes, I am a church doodler. one confession at a time, please)

I have to tell you, I read over those words in my own scribbling handwriting and I was a little stunned. It's true- I know this in my head- that Christ loves this man as much as He loves me. But to see it in print just stopped me in my tracks.  I knew in that moment that it was important for me to really believe this (not just know it to be true) because this kind of arrogance- the kind that says "Jesus loves me and He does not love you" is not pleasing to God in the slightest. 

I made an effort to unclench my jaw and let the Word of God sink into my heart.

I'm not sure of the order from here on out, but at some point I did hear our pastor say "Forgiveness is releasing someone else to God and letting Him be the judge." He talked about debt and releasing debt, and it occurred to me that I am holding an account of the things that man at whom I have been directing my spiteful thoughts for the last year owes me.  

He owes me an apology!He owes me a PUBLIC apology!

He owes me ... what? to have my church back, my job back, my reputation back... what? The list is huge. I couldn't imagine how he could even afford to settle the account he had racked up.  An apology wouldn't really cut it.  Too much damage has been done. I don't think I'd even really believe it or feel like it was enough. Plus, I am pretty sure he's not really interested in settling this problem. So, my resolve to sit here and be the judge of this man is doing me  no good at all. Letting go of this and letting God judge the situation would certainly be the smart thing to do.  Still....

(and this is the part when I get all real, folks, so if you were looking for a marshmallow peeps and rainbows blog post, you may wanna avert your eyes for a few paragraphs)

So, at some point, the pastor says something like, "And some of you- if you were really to admit it- are thinking to yourself, 'If that guy's whole family got chopped up into little pieces, I wouldn't even care.'  And I'm here to say, you guys... that is not okay."

What a terrible thing to say! What person who loves Jesus and who claims to be a child of God would even identify with that kind of statement?

me.

Do you know that I have had thoughts like this? Not necessarily about his family, but I have pictured him having a heart attack, having to dig a huge hole and then being pushed in, being jumped in a dark alley... and these things did not cause me sadness in the slightest. I'm so ashamed, you guys.

that was all I needed... my resolve just broke. No matter how I tried, I could not keep the tears back. They spilled out over my cheeks and onto my neck and I finally had to dig through my purse for a tissue because my nose started to run too. 

I have allowed my hatred for this man to actually turn me into a terrible, discompassionate, hateful person and THAT IS NOT OKAY. Enough is enough. Sometimes a good look at your true self is all you need to make some serious, drastic changes.

So, today, I am officially, publicly, and once-and-for-all-ly stating here that I forgive that man.  I will no longer speak unkindly about him, I will no longer entertain horrible thoughts about him, I will no longer hold an account of his wrongs.  I understand that Jesus loves him as much as He loves me, and I will stop praying for his fall, and start praying for his return to Christ. Not because I think that man deserves it, but because I know that God deserves it. He tells us he loves ALL of His children- He wants that NOT ONE would perish. Because I have been a recipient of the grace of God- because I have had my debt washed clean, I hereby release the debt that is owed to me by the person who has hurt me so deeply. 

*whew* I think I need a nap.

Weeds.

Today was so beautiful outside.

After extraordinary worship at church,

Following a lovely meal out with the teenagers,

I decided to take a delightful nap in my cozy bed,

Then wandered outside to wake the garden up for spring.

The sun was gently shining

over the yard, now full of weeds.

Our lovely garden had been overtaken!

Undaunted, I tied on my apron, pulled on gloves,

rolled up my sleeves, and prepared myself for battle.

I adjusted my iPhone to play,

Grabbed a kneeling pad from the shed,

and planted myself in the midst of the weeds.

So satisfying was waging war on the unwelcome greens,

that I found myself smiling despite the sweat blinding my eyes.

Up, out by the roots came the weeds-

The ones that grew in the cracks of our pavers,

The ones that grew at the bases of the fruit trees,

Those rotten ones creeping up into my container garden,

I tore in with a vengeance on my annual fight to reclaim my land.

Rip, yank, tear, toss, repeat.

At last I hit a groove, and my mind wandered

Oh, the luxury of time to reflect without an agenda!

My thoughts, uninhibited, came on like a runaway train,

Surveying the crazy year that passed since I was here before.

Last year, my heart was breaking.

It wasn't sweat that blinded me, but tears.

I was on the brink of taking a ginormous leap

Directly into the arms of my God without a net.

I couldn't have even dreamed what was still yet to come.

As I pulled out these same weeds,

A year ago, almost to the very day,

I remember begging God to let me stay

Asking Him to hurry up and fix what was broken

Because I was so afraid of all the things I was about to lose.

When spring came last year, 

I was still in the season of winter,

So much has happened since that dark time!

As I thought about the days and weeks and months

I could clearly see God in each and every minute of the journey.

The things I worried about losing

Either are long gone or standing strong

It turns out the "sacrifice" that I so greatly feared

Wasn't much of a sacrifice after all was said and done:

A small price to pay for being able to stand in the will of a loving God

As I pulled out the weeds today,

Turned the soil in the pots and beds,

Cleared away cobwebs, chased off the bugs

And soaked the ground to prepare for new growth,

I thanked God for doing the same things for me a year ago.

I thanked him for weeding my life,

For turning the soil in heart and mind,

For rescuing me from satan's evil plans,

For giving me a thorough soaking of His word,

And for preparing me for the new growth that's ahead

Our children have grown this year

Faster than I ever even thought possible

My son is mere weeks away from adulthood,

My daughters counting the days to the end of jr. high

And I am rounding the bend of this season toward the next

I'm starting to realize

That it is impossible to know

So that makes it imperative to trust

And the roots that we hold on to so tightly

Are often just weeds that are holding us back.

So, here I am at midnight

Letting today's lessons sink in

Remembering the trials of the last year,

Praising God that they were triumphs after all

And being truly thankful for the things that remain:

One husband, steady, noble, and strong,

Three children, growing in stature and in wisdom,

A house, imperfect and small, but home nonetheless

Many close friends who are quite literally tried and true,

An extended family- filled with love, and life, and laughter

The garden that God has planted

Is not only filled with strong plants, producing fruit

But also some annuals I thought were gone but returned:

A friend I thought was lost forever, a job I tried to quit long ago,

Relationships I thought were hopeless- all these returning at full bloom.

And then, there are the sprouts,

The unexpected gifts God has revealed:

New friends we're picking up along the way,

A vibrant church family to get to know and love,

A whole new season of discovering God's new plans for our lives.

As my body grew weary from weeding,

I stood up and looked around the garden.

Though not quite finished, it was wonderful.

We had made quite some progress, God and I

Both in our garden and in my own healing heart.

I hung up my apron, pulled off my gloves,

Relocated the huge weed pile into the trash,

Gave the soil one more good drink from the hose,

And headed back into the house for a long hot shower,

Thankful for this place to think, and reflect, and remember....

Let all that I am praise the Lord;

with my whole heart, I will praise his holy name.

Let all that I am praise the Lord; 

may I never forget the good things he does for me 

Psalm 103:1-2

refugee.

ref·u·gee/ˌrefyo͝oˈjē/

Noun:

A person who has been forced to leave their country in order to escape war, persecution, or natural disaster.

I'm afraid it sounds quite dramatic for me to call myself a refugee, but on some level, it certainly does feel like the shoe fits. No, I was never really in the kind of danger one imagines when using the word, but I tell you the truth when I say that emotional and spiritual peril are nearly as crippling as physical or political peril. I realize that leaving my church was not the same as leaving a country- I still live in my same home, my children and husband are still by my side. However, navigating this new season of life often feels what I would guess it would feel like to navigate a new land after running from war, persecution, or disaster... perhaps that's because we kind of did. The war that waged, the persecution that came about, the disaster which led to our final exodus may not have involved guns or other physical weaponry but somehow, lasting wounds were created on not just me, but my entire family. Frankly, even over half a year later, I'm afraid we all have a little case of PTSD.

I confess to you that I do not want to write about this still. I feel like it's been too long and at this point I sound like a whiny victim. I see that everyone is moving on and I sometimes feel like the last one who's just not pulling out of it. I feel that stating fact that I still am not "over it" sounds like a complaint- that God hasn't given me enough, that I have not been cared for properly, and that is simply not true. I have been given every good and perfect gift you can imagine... I am getting better every day. There are great patches of time, sometimes days, when the rotten memories aren't even thought of at all. Still, I feel like I have spots on my heart that are just not healing well. I feel like that is dumb. I want to hurry up and move past the pain and get onto the next thing!

I am happy- joyful even. My family is beautifully thriving, I have a great job, good friends, an absolutely fairytale marriage. Blessings abound. Still, those nonhealing parts mean that the smallest thing can bring me to tears. A sweet gesture, seeing a friend by surprise, being told no about something insignificant, hearing the first three notes of 'Come Thou Fount.' It's in those moments that I can see that I have somehow been affected in deeper spots than I really realized and then I worry that I'm not moving past this fast enough.

My worries come out in the form of planning. "You know what? We need a plan! Let's plan something and then check things off of lists!" I will say. I need a better education plan, and then I will feel better. We need to plan our family photos, and then I will feel better. For me, planning is my way of feeling in control in an out of control situation. Were I an actually refugee in a foreign country, this would look much the same- make a plan to learn the language, CHECK! make a plan to find a job, CHECK! make a plan to find a home, CHECK! Instead, I keep trying to find a plan that will lead me out of this dark and twisty place in my heart.

In my last post, I talked about the thought about moving to another town, one where our new church meets. While I still think it's likely that God's urging us to do that, I notice that I am obsessed with getting a plan to do put it in motion. I turn and twist how on earth we can make this happen in my mind like I imagine Sarah must've when she realized that, though God promised a son to her and Abraham, it just wasn't happening. Truth is, we can't afford to move right now. We are in no financial position to do what we think God's wanting us to do. So now what? You guessed it, we need a plan. I know how the whole Hagar thing turned out, but still... I keep on doing it.

This morning, when we were driving to our little church of refuge, I was fussing and planning all the way there. I chatted with my husband about some plan B possibilities, trying to find some hope and security that this could happen soon... we could leave our 'refugee' status and take up residence in our new land.  Once we arrived at church, we said good morning to a bunch of people we don't know, sat down in chairs that have become "our" spots, and began a beautiful time of worship.

And do you know what happened next? That really rude pastor walked right up and uttered these words, seemingly out of the blue, and really, frankly not even part of the message that he went on to teach...

"You don't need a change of location, you need a change of heart"

oh, snap.

more to come....

 I, James, am a slave of God and the Master Jesus, writing to the twelve tribes scattered to Kingdom Come: Hello! Consider it a sheer gift, friends, when tests and challenges come at you from all sides. You know that under pressure, your faith-life is forced into the open and shows its true colors. So don’t try to get out of anything prematurely. Let it do its work so you become mature and well-developed, not deficient in any way.

James 1:1-2 MSG

fine.

On Friday, I went to go see Tia the Wondergirl.  For those of you I've not met, Tia-the-Wondergirl is my hairapist- her super power is that she can put some POW into my graying, tired hair- which in turn, magically seeps through my roots and into my head and puts in some POW into greying, tired old me. I totally needed it. I fluffed up my hair, gave the wondergirl a big fat hug and turned toward the door.

As I was reaching for the exit, I locked eyes with someone that looked familiar. I cringed.  "Here goes..." I thought. Sure enough, she asked me if I'm still at my church- the one that I called my home for 18 years- the one that I worked at for half that time- the one that I had to walk away from, brokenhearted, last spring. It stung a little bit, even still. I live in a smallish town, and went to a biggish church and there is a story about what happened and it's not pretty and you know about gossip- it travels fast. I don't know if I have yet to venture out in my little town three times in a row without being approached by a local wondering what happened and what part I had in it, and where I stand now. Usually it's a sign of support, but not always.

To be honest- perfectly honest- I sometimes on purpose don't go into town because I just don't have the energy for it. Sometimes I duck down aisles at Target because I see a person and I just .... can't. I totally understand why people ask. I would wonder, too. Generally, (if you've known me for any period of time, you'll know this is the truth) I'm happy to talk to you about pretty much anything- I don't exactly have a lot of secrets. For the most part, my life is an open book, I have few things to hide, and although I value privacy, I don't usually care if people know my bizniss. 

But this is different.  The difference is that this story does not just involve me.  It involves a bunch of people that I love a whole lot (and some that I love a little less) and frankly, I don't think it does anyone any good to take this battle out into the streets. Jesus says that others will know His people by our love, one for another, and I think we have to be super careful not to cross the line between "bringing the truth to light" and "causing division."  I have taken the steps to give the truth to the people who need to hear it, and I feel like God has released me from the responsibility of 'taking down the man.'  Nonetheless, I still struggle when talking to individuals- how much do they need to know, how much should I just let go, and how on earth do I not defend myself against the lies that are out there?

So, there I was, standing and chatting with this sweet lady in the salon, smiling and nodding. She said the standard 'I don't really know what happened exactly, and I don't need to know, but I'm so sorry it happened' speech. I thanked her sincerely and put my hand on the door. We talked a little longer,  her with her head positioned in the typical 'sympathetic head bob' and me doing the 'I'm fine, really ' head nod. In the end,  we both agreed that we're all family, no matter where we worship, and I opened the door and headed out.

As I walked to my car, I tried to get back into my 'I have sassy Tia hair' groove, but my heart just was ... heavy.  I couldn't find the POW anywhere. The conversation wasn't unpleasant, but still I felt this strange mixture of sadness and another emotion I couldn't put my finger on. As I drove away, I realized I have felt this emotion before... it's very much like.... grief. 

I keep thinking I'm past mourning this whole situation... and then it rises right back up to the top, like a splinter. I miss my church family. I miss my coworkers, leaders, and volunteers. I miss the comfortable feeling I used to have in my hometown. I miss the days when I was softer, less guarded. I miss Target.

I know that leaving the church was the absolutely right decision. I am not one bit sorry that I stood up for the truth, and I believe wholeheartedly that God was able to use that whole mess for His good, and will continue to do so.  I know there's a big picture that I can't even see, but I can already see a bunch of things in the small picture. I am already thankful for God's amazing grace through the whole process.

Today, my family made the decision to start the membership classes for the church we think we'll be calling home. We'll be driving a little bit to reach it, but that's part of the charm. We have prayed and sought God's will for months and months and months. This feels like where we're called - at least for now. After church, we drove around the area of where we'll be worshiping on Sundays, looking at houses for sale and my heart began to beat a little faster and I felt a little... joyful! As much as I love my little town, I think it might be time to pick up camp and move on. My husband and I both have been feeling like maybe God is calling us to follow Him out of this city- not so much to run away from here- but maybe He's using this feeling to propel us to somewhere new. 

I had no idea what I was going to write when I sat down to type on this old, dusty blog. I think I just had a yearning to sit down and sketch out some of these thoughts that are mulling around in my heart. This is what came out.  I keep retyping this last paragraph, trying to figure out how to dismount these uneven bars that I've been spinning around for the last hour- how to stick the landing with a nice little conclusion, a witty-worded ta-da! and an encouraging word... but nothing's coming.

Today, my new pastor (it seems weird to say that) challenged us to get real- he reminded us that we need to stop being the people who tell everyone they're fine when they're not. Maybe that's what this post is all about... Confessing to you that though I know I am going to be soon, I'm not always 'fine.' I am sad sometimes, and I am tired a lot of the time, and there still are some residual wounds that are still in the process of healing and if you must know, I am often anxious about what's next.  (How's that for real?)

Can anyone else identify? We read this scripture today, and while I'm not always a huge fan of the Message, the way this particular passage was interpreted just sank right into my heart. Maybe it'll speak to you too.  

“Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.” Matthew 11:28-30 The Message

May we each find true rest in Christ...

His Girl,

Amber

Re-entry.

I have a couple of minutes this evening to do something just for fun.  My husband is watching a movie that I find intolerable, all my homework is done for the week, and I can't want to do the laundry that is taunting me from the hamper.  All of a sudden, it occurred to me that I could wade back into the blog for just a little dip, splash around a little, and towel off before going back to "real life." This blog used to be a wonderful place for me to work out all the scrambled up thoughts in my head, sort out the madness, and come out with a better perspective of God. I could use a little of that these days.

After logging into blogger tonight, I found that I had 20... yes, TWENTY partially written posts just staring at me in my drafts folder.  So much shtuff life has happened since I traded my blogging time for study time. There have been blessings- lots of them! Since my last regular posting,  I had a lovely birthday party filled to overflowing with beautiful friends and more love than my heart could contain. My children have started the last year of middle school (the girls), and high school (the boy), I started a "new" job, and have been blessed with more than I deserve.

But amid the abundance of blessings, something akin to a meteor blew my 'normal, boring life' into a new orbit and I was sent spinning, spinning, spinning out of control for the bigger part of this year so far.  Looking in my drafts folder, I can see that I tried to record the events as they went along. However, things like propriety, busy-ness, fear, pride, holy-moly-can-I-be-sued-for-writing-this?, and the fact that my heart was breaking stopped me from typing out the words to tell my "too crazy for Lifetime TV" story, and about midway would give up on the post- wondering if the craziness was ever going to stop.

Of course, the ridiculousness stopped at some point. The mayhem didn't end the  way I had hoped, but it did eventually end for the most part.  At the risk of sounding melodramatic, it was the hardest season I have ever weathered.  I am pleased to say that though I have had to change my job, my church, and my perspective-- my relationship with God, with my family, and with my dearest friends has not only survived the ballyhoo, but actually grown richer, deeper, stronger. 

Rats! the intolerable movie has ended already! I'm rusty at blogging, and have  made little progress in catching ya'll up on the happenings of the last 9 months. I hope someday I'll be able to tell you about the valuable lessons I've learned through this trial, but for now, I'm going to just turn the page.  Instead of avoiding blogging because I feel like I'll never be able to fill in the missed months, I'll just start over fresh.  I'm hoping to just fast forward to this current season and get back to this thing I love-looking for Jesus in everyday life, and writing about it here in my happy place.

Here's to fresh starts!

The faithful love of the Lord never ends!
    His mercies never cease.
Great is his faithfulness;    his mercies begin fresh each Morning.

- Lamintations 3:22-23 

besos,

His Girl Amber