Coming Fast and Passing Slow

Life sometimes takes us by storm.  It blows in on us like the West Texas sandstorm that barraged us this week with 60 mph winds that ripped off roofs, downed lines and trees and covered highways and houses (yes houses) with blowing tumbleweeds.  It often leaves behind a mess to deal with just like my garage that was full of leaves that blew in and sand that made its way into every window and door of our home.  I swept up the leaves, vacuumed up the dirt and washed the car.  While the dust is still settling from that storm I know that as we enter the month of March, there is a promise of more wind on the horizon.  Very soon I will need to once again, sweep up the leaves, wash the car and vacuum up the dust and dirt.  It's just what we do around here this time of year.  What takes nature minutes to do, takes us days to clean up.  I find that life is a lot like that lately.  It comes too fast and it passes too slow.

"Mom, I'm pregnant."  In the time it took to Melanie to breathe those words out, life as I knew it changed.  My thoughts raced ahead as I chased after them futilely trying to just be in the moment.  Sometimes the words "do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself", totally escape my mind.  I start trying to solve all the problems before they even take form.  The information of new life on the way came at me fast but the 9 months it actually takes that life to arrive is SO slow.

"May I marry your daughter?"  That one question took Thomas mere seconds to ask but once again life as I knew it has changed.  Thomas and Lauren will be marrying in what we consider a relatively short amount of time to plan a wedding.  After the proposal we shifted into an unknown gear that I'm sure is only available on the space shuttle.  Securing the church, the reception venue, and the date became an urgent task.  The dress is ordered and as it turns out in the nick of time.  We've viewed wedding invitations and discussed music.  We've worked on menus, talked to photographers and discussed  flowers and decorations.  It's an exciting time but I know that once the initial flurry slows it will pass slow as we wait for the day.

Dad has cancer.  Oh no!  Not the "C" word again.  Our lives were rocked 14 years ago with my diagnosis.  Hearing those words sort of makes everything shift into slow motion.  If you've ever walked that path you know exactly what I mean.  You wait for the diagnosis, you wait for the next appointment, you wait for the next test, you wait for surgery, you wait for the sickness to subside, you wait to feel better, you wait, and wait and wait.  Your life changes in an instant.  Gary's dad's news came at us fast but the treatment and recovery will pass slow for us all.

Yes, life comes at us fast.  Sometimes it brings joy and excitement and sometimes it brings anxiety and fear of the unknown.  I am thankful that I walk by faith and not by sight.  I am thankful that God goes before us and will never leave us nor forsake us.  I am thankful for a God who sees me and loves me and will tend to my every need.  I'm thankful that I have the courage to face tomorrow because my savior lives!  Let the storm howl and the dust choke out the sunlight.  Let the moments that change my life flash with the speed of lightening and rage with untold fury.  Let each day tick by slowly as I seek His will and sweep away the doubt and fear.  Come at me fast and pass slow.  With dust pan in hand, I'm standing on the ROCK!

I have set the LORD always before me; because he is at my right hand, I will not be shaken.  

                                                                                                                               Psalm 16:8

My inspiration and loves!

Lauren Elizabeth, Crystal, Lindsay, Emily, Melanie, Lauren Beth

Is it Really Enough?

Do you always engage when you are singing praise songs?  Do you really listen to the words and take them to heart every time you are singing them?  Do you really mean those words?  I would like to think that I do, but the truth is, I don't always.  Sometimes I sing along just because I like the tune or I've sung it a hundred times and I simply like singing it.  Honestly, sometimes I'm not truly worshipping when I'm singing at church.  Yes, I'm letting the cat out of the bag.  Sometimes  I am just a clanging gong in the Lord's ear and it has little to do with my aging vocal ability.  My mind often wonders and I don't always take to heart the words that I'm proclaiming at the top of my lungs.  


Another confession...I like to raise my hands when I'm praising.  Label me charismatic if that's not your thing.  It's fine by me.  Yes, I'm one of "THOSE people".  There were times when you couldn't have pried my hands from the back of the pew in front of me let alone get me to lift them in praise.  I've matured a bit since then and learned that we all praise differently.  I can't see me playing the tambourine anytime soon but I did do a great deal of dancing in Africa and Guatemala when I went to church there.  Maybe it was just a bit of the old saying, "When in Rome".  Truth be told though, I kinda liked it!  I've decided there is nothing wrong with being exuberant when we praise.   


Last month I was struck by a phrase in a praise song.   This particular time I was truly engaged in the words of the songs I was singing.  The overwhelming theme of two of the songs was God's love for us.  I'm singing along to a song I know I've sung at least 100 times and fully agreeing with every word out of my mouth when all the sudden, I felt a deep sense of sadness.  I'm joyfully proclaiming that the riches of Your love will always be enough, when I become painfully aware that not everyone can sing those words and mean them.  I'm also aware that there have been many times in my own life when those words were not true for me either.  


Is it really enough?  We sing about God's love being all we need but do we live our lives every day as though we truly believe what our lips are professing?  What about when we are alone or lonely?  What about when we have been cast out or abandoned?  What about when we feel utter desperation or fear?  What about when we feel defeated or cheated?  What about when we feel wronged?  What about when we get a diagnosis that shakes us to the core?  Do we believe with all our heart in those moments that God's love is enough?


We may not always believe it but it is true.  God's love is enough!  It can break through any barrier and through the blackest night.  It can cover over a multitude of sins.  It gives us hope when we have none.  In God's love we find our freedom.  We find courage to believe.  In God's love we even find the courage to believe that His love is enough.  


The bible says love never fails.  This means, it never stops, it is never insufficient, it never disappoints, it is never undependable, and it never falls short.  That sounds like it's enough for me!  


Gosh, I'm in the mood now to go do some praising.  If only I had a tambourine!  Hmm....














  

Scarred for Life

I have a new scar.  I had two skin cancers removed from my face and now I have a one and a quarter inch scar next to my nose.  From tiny puncture wounds, chicken pox marks, and stitched up eyebrows, to the classic split chin, some scars are visible for all to see even though they fade a bit with time.  Maybe you have emotional scars which are very real but more easily disguised.  Seen and unseen they are the remnant reminders of wounds from our past.  Do you have a favorite scar?  Like the characters from the movie "Jaws", we roll up our sleeves and pant legs to display them and tell the often gruesome details of how we acquired them.  We wear some of our visible ones like a badge of honor and the not so visible ones we often conceal with guilt and shame.  The question, "How did you get that scar?", opens the door for us to share a moment of our history which has left us with a constant reminder.

My first scar of memory is on my right knee.  I acquired it at a rodeo when I fell on a nail sticking up out of a wooden step.  I can not remember the actual occurrence very well, but I do remember the sterile emergency room and the septic smells.  I remember the can they put under my knee to catch the soapy water they used to wash the gash.  Oh, and lots of tears!  That scar is still very visible today.  I also have a scar on my forehead from a biking incident where my brother was giving me a ride and I fell off.  I have no memory of this at all but I've been told my brother carried me unconscious into the beauty shop where my mom was getting her weekly hairdo and she took me to the emergency room in curlers and cape.  A small star shaped scar on my upper lip was the result of a pillow fight with my other brother.  He swung a bit too high and knocked the shade off the ceiling light which hit the wall and showered me with glass.  Many more scars have left their mark on my body through the years including several surgical scars.  Some are hidden by hair or clothing but each one is a reminder that I survived a small or large crisis when they were formed.

What about the scars that you can't see at all?  These scars are often left by abuse, neglect, betrayal, abandonment, or deception.  It could be as simple as an unkind remark or a word of discouragement that is never forgotten to being abused by someone we trusted.  Maybe divorce shattered our life as a child or as an adult.  Maybe someone we loved betrayed us.  The pain is sometimes worse and longer lasting when these scars are formed.  They may happen in an instant or over days, weeks, months and years.  They may be of our own making or inflicted upon us by another.  Regardless of how the wound was made it left a scar that is just as real although not visible.

Scarred for life!  We've all heard those words at some point in time.  They often carry with them a negative connotation.  For me they are simply a reminder that I'm alive and I have survived.  I survived the swing set falling on my head.  I survived accidents.  I survived abuse.  I survived divorce as a child and as an adult.  I survived cancer.  I survived surgeries.  I survived losses.  I survived betrayals.  I bear the scars but I survived.

It takes strength and courage to survive all the wounds that life inflicts.  My survival is not a source of pride or a badge of honor, for my survival was not accomplished alone.  Alone I am weak.  My strength comes from the one who was truly "Scarred for Life."  Jesus was scarred for my life.  His wounds are the wounds that truly heal and give eternal life to us all.  Those life giving scars give us all hope. "Hope for tomorrow and strength for today", as the old hymn goes.

As I fret over this newest scar on my face hoping it will continue to fade,  I pray that I will allow it to be a constant reminder to me that the maker of the universe loves me enough to be scarred for my life!


"He was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities;  the punishment that brought us peace was on him, and by his wounds we are healed."         Isaiah 53:5

The Battle Within

I'm far from a poet but I wrote this the other day and I'm following up my post from earlier in the week with it.  So for all you literary types or English professionals you will have to overlook any rhythm missteps.  I just write it down as it comes to me and it isn't always pretty!  My senior English teacher, Miss Morgan would roll over if she saw some of the stuff I've posted.  So apologies to her.  She did try her best to educate me.

The battle is raging though my eyes cannot see
My mind keeps on screaming, "Let me be free!"
Flee from my memory and remind me no more
Stop standing and waiting crouched at my door


Long ago demons I thought were at rest
The struggle is frequent and unrelenting at best
They stir up my memories and mess with my mind
They spin me in circles and leave my eyes blind


Like a heavy black fog they creep into my dreams
Though I try to call out they silence my screams
They lurk in the scents and the tunes of my past
They cling and they claw with a grip that's so vast


So once again in full armor I struggle to stand
I draw out my sword and with bible in hand
I face down my enemy and retreat no more
I press ever forward and shout from my door


"That is not who I am or forever will be.
That is simply the old and the worst part of me!
God Cleansed me and gave me a robe of pure white.
His grace gives me freedom to fight the good fight."

You Don't Know What You're Asking

For the past few weeks I have been digging through old photos and family history.  I have traced part of my family back to the year 1000.  Let me tell you right now that when you go digging through the past you better be prepared for a few surprises.  Some surprises are fun and some I would just as soon have never known.  One of my ancestors escorted Jeanne d'Arc (Joan of Arc) into town when her army arrived in 1428.  How cool is that?  There were Kings guards, noblemen, mayors, one was the founder of the Templars, duelers and some accused of theft, looting, extortion, rape, arson and murder but were later pardoned by the king.  My family actually ended up in the United States after one ancestor was forced to leave France after an "unfortunate duel and disastrous affairs" in 1789.  Not so cool!  Well...the dueling part sounds sort of cool.

My Grandfather on left in 1914.

I woke early on January 12, 2011 with family history on my mind.  I began praying for my family.  Now often when I pray silently my mind tends to wonder a bit.  But in this moment I was very focused and I was making my appeal to the Lord and then as if He were sitting right there listening He replied "You don't know what you're asking.".

I admit I was a bit confused and surprised by the quick response.  I started going through my list of questions to make sure my prayers weren't being hindered by my worldly view.  Was I asking the impossible?  No, the bible tells me nothing is impossible for God.  Was I being selfish in my request?  I honestly don't think so.  Would it change the course of my family history? Yes.  Would lives be changed for the good in the long run.  Absolutely.  So what do you do in this situation?  What do you do when you ask God for something and you don't get the response you had hoped for?

I've spent some time thinking about it and have come to the conclusion that for me, in this particular instance, God was telling me that He could do it but that I wouldn't be able to bear it.  Since He has promised not to give me more than I can bear, I will take comfort in knowing that He knows what is best for me.  I will ask God to help me pray in accordance with His will so that I  know that my prayers will be answered.  I will remember what my pastor Patrick Payton said in 2002, "Prayer is where my arguments for my will and my choices begin to cease and where I adjust and surrender to the purposes and plans of God.".  I will refine my request until it lines up with God's will.

I love that I can courageously go before the throne of grace and continue to plead my case to a loving Father who will tell me no when it's for my good and encourage me to dig deeper within myself to reconcile the answer.  No matter what the history records say, my Father is God.  I am His treasured child and when I depart this world and my records are entered for future generations, I pray that no matter what else is said of me, that what will stand out is that I was a Christ Follower and that my descendants true heritage lies in heaven.

Courage Isn't Without Heartache

This morning I was thinking about when my oldest daughter was just learning to read. We were out running errands and she was proudly showing off her new reading skills by reading all the signs along the way. When we pulled into the parking lot of the grocery store she read the name of the store and then read the other large words on the front of the building. "Food", "Drugs" she read aloud with confidence in her ability. She then innocently turned to me and asked, "Mom if they want people to stop taking drugs, why don't they just quit selling them?". It was obvious that they had been pushing the "Just Say No" campaign at school.

This is a bittersweet memory for me. If I had known on that day the intense battle that lay ahead of us, I would not have been laughing. I would have been face down on the floor begging God for mercy for this sweet child. Was this moment a foreshadowing of the future? I can't really say for sure. I only know that there were many days I wished she was still that sweet little brown eyed girl looking at me with her simple solution to one of life's dilemmas.

During her turbulent teenage years and into the early 20's of this precious child's life I learned what it meant to take courage to a whole new level. I did things I honestly didn't think I could do. Nothing heroic mind you, but it takes a great deal of courage to place your child in the care of others and walk away.

Day after day I prayed, "Please God, free her from this addiction. Please watch over her. Please, remove all the bad influences from her life. Please, Please, Please!". The prayer list was long and growing daily. I cried, begged and pleaded with God over and over. Then I realized one day it was time to just throw in the towel. Not to give up, but to give in. I admitted to God that I had a trust issue. I didn't trust God to take care of her, I didn't trust him to keep her from harm, I didn't trust him to find her a way out of this mess. I simply didn't trust God to love her more than I did.

God! You know, the one who created the universe, spun the world into existence and set the stars in space, well he just simply wasn't big enough to love her as much as me. For heavens sake I was her mom! No one could love her as much or as unconditionally as me. Right? Let me just say that I'm thankful that God is in the forgiving business because I was certainly standing in need of it. So after repenting of my unbelief, I timidly placed her in His hands.

Now when you place your child in God's hands and say, "They are your child God and I'm only part of their life because you chose me to be. Do with them what you will.", you don't stop worrying automatically. You gradually learn that with every worry you reach out to your source of strength and you ask Him to give you courage to face whatever the next minute, day, week, month or year holds. You ask Him to hold you as tightly as he is holding them. You submit to His will for their life as well as your own.

Today this beautiful young woman's life is a testament. God gives her courage each day to fight the good fight. He has restored what Satan tried to steal, kill and destroy. My life is richer and my courage and faith stronger because God allowed me to be her mom. The joy she has brought to my life far outweighs any pain that Satan, through addiction, caused.

She is a work of art designed by the Master's hands and I am the blessed Mom who get's to be a part of her life and His work.