Today I feel alone. And not alone as in I would like company. Alone as in the kind of alone that even when you're in a room full of people you still feel it. Like everybody else knows all the answers and how to make life work, but I was absent on that day of school and I've been trying to figure it out ever since.
I find life to be hard. I find getting out of bed difficult and getting through my day with gratitude difficult and raising children difficult and making dinner difficult and keeping a home difficult. Am I the only one? It feels like I am. Every morning I want to update my Facebook status with, "I find life to be hard." But I don't. Do you know why? Because I don't want to make myself vulnerable to the people who will say things like, "Smile, be positive." or "Life is what you make it," or something like that. Do you know why it bothers me? Because it misses the point. It misses my heart. My heart is lonely and broken and empty and when people give me meaningless advice, it feels like they've just wiped their shoes on my already broken heart. I know that people that give advice need grace too, because the truth is their hearts are also lonely and broken and maybe even empty.
I hate that I am discouraged and feeling like a failure again. I hate that I keep struggling with the same things over and over. I just want to be done with it. I want to be happy and joyful all the time. But joy is a fight. It doesn't come easy.
The other day I took a long walk through Riverside Park. I love that park. I feel God's presence every time I'm there. I was enjoying the colors on the trees and noticing how many trees had already lost their leaves. A couple weeks ago I taught a lesson entitled, "Life Cycle of a Small Group," and that lesson was on my mind when I started contemplating the life cycle of a tree. In the spring the tree starts out with new life, then in the summer bountiful leaves, then spectacular beauty in the fall and ultimately death as the leaves fall and the tree lies dormant for the winter. New life, bounty, beauty and death. When the tree experiences what must feel like death, it doesn't really die of course. It just rests. When the fruit and leaves are gone, it rests.
I wonder if the tree ever feels like, "Why bother growing leaves again, I will just lose them in the winter? What is the point?" If I were a tree I'm pretty sure I would feel that way. I can tend to be a pessimist, a glass half empty sort of girl. I feel like giving up a lot. But after the winter, the tree may have to start over again with new growth, but it doesn't completely start over. It starts again where it left off. Otherwise all we'd have are small trees. There are some giant trees at Riverside park. Their massiveness sometimes takes my breath away. I wonder how old they are and how much life they've seen. I wonder how many times they've gone through their life cycles.
Our lives are very much like those trees. We go through cycles. We have times of new life, times of bounty, times of beauty, and times of death. I always thought spiritual growth was a straight path, but I'm beginning to see we are walking it in circles and with every circle we get a little closer to Jesus. I've told this story a hundred times, but I find it so helpful. Years ago, I was discouraged once again and said to a friend, "I am just going around in circles, never making any progress." And he said, "You may be going in circles, but the circle is getting smaller. It's taking you less time to get to repentance." I've found that to be true. Larry Crabb says it this way, "From happiness through despair to joy - that's the cycle. Then, since joy is never fully settled, it repeats itself. Our lives move again from feeling pretty good to hurting terribly to deeper hope, different and richer. The 'happiness-to-despair' part at least is familiar to every honest person who sincerely tries to follow this crazy, narrow, pothole-ridden path called the Christian life."
My life feels a bit barren right now. We've experienced so much loss over the last 8 months. But deep down my heart always has a reason to rejoice. Jesus loves me. And he loves you. There's a line in one of my favorite songs that says, "Nothing can separate, even if I ran away. Your love never fails. I know I still make mistakes, but you have new mercy for me every day. Your love never fails." Comfort. What a comfort! I am so grateful.
In this season of death, I will be like a tree and I will rest. I will not give up. I will rest in the fact that new life is coming. That God is in control. That God is big and I am small. He sees everything and knows what He's doing. And as I journey through these cycles, I pray that some day someone wonders at the beauty of my heart and marvels at the massiveness of Jesus and all He has brought me through.
Wednesday, October 24, 2012
Thursday, August 23, 2012
Blessings, Weeds and Goldfinches
Lately, I've been seeing all these wonderful bright yellow birds flying around by my kitchen window. Every time one flies by, it takes my breath away. I gasp, and I say thank you to Jesus, and I write it down in my gratitude journal. Sometimes I even try to get a picture. They've even been sitting outside my window on the power lines. Two little yellow birds, as cute as can be, sitting there right at eye level looking at me while I'm doing the dishes. It's a gift straight from God. Some people will say it's a coincidence, but I will tell you straight up. They're wrong.
While I'm doing the most menial of tasks, Jesus meets me there. He reminds me of His love for me, and I worship Him. He makes me smile.
When the bright yellow birds first started showing up, I had no idea what they were. So, I did some research. They are American Goldfinches. Here's couple interesting facts: they generally are monogamous and mate for life, the males go through rigorous flight patterns to impress the females, and they change color throughout the year - they're only bright yellow in the summer. I had no idea.
Reading about the flight patterns reminded me of college when Matt saw me in the student center and was jumping up and down behind a wall with his head popping up over the top. Every time his head came up, he'd say something like, "Hey Kathryn.." next jump, "How ya doing?" Yes, I fell for it. Nobody ever made themselves look like such a fool for me. Except that one guy who walked into a pole while turning around to say hi to me. That was also in the student center, but he didn't mean to do that, and I'm pretty sure he was humiliated, and I'm pretty sure it hurt! Poor guy.
Matt and I have lived out a pretty incredible love story. I am beyond blessed to call him my husband. We fell in love so hard and so fast. Now, 20 years later, we are still very much in love. Even though at times we've had to really fight to stay there, he is my best friend and the love of my life.
Even in the midst of a beautiful love story there are betrayals, hurts, disappointments and discouragements. We're human and we wound each other. Oh how I long for the statement to be untrue. But it is true. All too true. Marriage can be so painful, it can tear you up inside. It can also be incredibly healing. God can use your spouse in amazing ways to bring up and heal deep wounds. If you're married, I pray you have more healing in your marriage than wounding.
One of the minor disappointments in our marriage has been our differences in interests. I love to be outside. I grew up in Traverse City. It's what you do. You spend your summer days at the beach. You spend your fall days going on color tours watching the leaves change amazing colors. I love the sound of the rain, and walking in the rain is one of my favorite things to do. I even love snow and how it washes the whole city white. I spent most of my childhood outside. Matt is different. He has painful memories of sunburns. He doesn't hate being outside, but he does hate being in the sun. He would rather be inside watching Star Trek. Did I mention that I hate that show?!!! He loves movies and video games. I refuse to play video games and I've grown bored with movies.
Because of his sun phobia, one of the things Matt hates to do is mow the lawn. It bothers me. A lot. The lawn gets out of control. It moves past shaggy and goes to unkempt, rough and rugged! It can be embarrassing. Don't get me wrong, my husband is a hard worker. He just really hates outdoor work. And in all honesty, our lawn is a really hard one to mow! I'm sure he could list plenty of things that bug him about me!! But this is my blog, not his!
Guess what. Those sweet little goldfinches that visit me when I'm doing the dishes, the ones that lift my spirits and make my heart sing, the ones that cause me to worship our great Creator, those little birds are attracted to the weeds that grow in my lawn outside my window. I have spent a lot of time pondering that thought. The weeds that I lament against, the weeds that I wish my husband would mow more frequently, would I get to see those birds without them?
There are voids in our hearts that people can't fill. There are empty spaces. They can be little annoyances or extremely painful deserts. People will disappoint, it's what we do, we're human. God shows up in those deserted, barren places. He can fill those empty places in beautiful, life giving, heart singing ways. There are amazing blessings in those empty places, blessings that might not have come any other way. That is what truly causes me to worship. When I am crying rivers of tears on Jesus's alter during a worship service at church, it's always about my emptiness and Jesus's fullness. Those tears are really all I have of value to offer Him, and he thinks they're so precious that he collects them in a bottle.
I heard Beth Moore say the other day, "Maybe the whole point of the beatitudes is that those who are in need of Jesus are blessed." I think she's right. It reminds me of one of my favorite passages in Isaiah.
Isaiah 41:17-20 "When the poor and needy search for water and there is none, and their tongues are parched from thirst, then I, the LORD, will answer them. I, the God of Israel, will never abandon them. I will open up rivers for them on the high plateaus. I will give them fountains of water in the valleys. I will fill the desert with pools of water. Rivers fed by springs will flow across the parched ground. I will plant trees in the barren desert - cedar, acacia, myrtle, olive, cypress, fir and pine. I am doing this so all who see this miracle will understand what it means - that it is the LORD who has done this, the Holy One of Israel who created it."
Notice, it's the poor and needy who search, who are blessed. It's the ones who's tongues are parched from thirst who's prayers are answered. Being needy is a wonderful thing where Jesus is concerned. And isn't it incredible that God doesn't just say, those who are thirsty will be given something to drink? Just a cup of water is not enough for him. He gives rivers, he gives fountains, so much water that there are even pools in the desert. Not just one tree, he gives 7 different kinds of trees. He is so good and so very generous.
Dear friend, God will fill your empty spaces. He won't just fill them to the top, He'll keep filling until they spill over. Before you know it, you'll be splashing everyone you walk by. So let's try to give people grace when they don't fill us up the way we long for them too. It's another opportunity for God to step in and bless us in the void.
While I'm doing the most menial of tasks, Jesus meets me there. He reminds me of His love for me, and I worship Him. He makes me smile.
When the bright yellow birds first started showing up, I had no idea what they were. So, I did some research. They are American Goldfinches. Here's couple interesting facts: they generally are monogamous and mate for life, the males go through rigorous flight patterns to impress the females, and they change color throughout the year - they're only bright yellow in the summer. I had no idea.
Reading about the flight patterns reminded me of college when Matt saw me in the student center and was jumping up and down behind a wall with his head popping up over the top. Every time his head came up, he'd say something like, "Hey Kathryn.." next jump, "How ya doing?" Yes, I fell for it. Nobody ever made themselves look like such a fool for me. Except that one guy who walked into a pole while turning around to say hi to me. That was also in the student center, but he didn't mean to do that, and I'm pretty sure he was humiliated, and I'm pretty sure it hurt! Poor guy.
Matt and I have lived out a pretty incredible love story. I am beyond blessed to call him my husband. We fell in love so hard and so fast. Now, 20 years later, we are still very much in love. Even though at times we've had to really fight to stay there, he is my best friend and the love of my life.
Even in the midst of a beautiful love story there are betrayals, hurts, disappointments and discouragements. We're human and we wound each other. Oh how I long for the statement to be untrue. But it is true. All too true. Marriage can be so painful, it can tear you up inside. It can also be incredibly healing. God can use your spouse in amazing ways to bring up and heal deep wounds. If you're married, I pray you have more healing in your marriage than wounding.
One of the minor disappointments in our marriage has been our differences in interests. I love to be outside. I grew up in Traverse City. It's what you do. You spend your summer days at the beach. You spend your fall days going on color tours watching the leaves change amazing colors. I love the sound of the rain, and walking in the rain is one of my favorite things to do. I even love snow and how it washes the whole city white. I spent most of my childhood outside. Matt is different. He has painful memories of sunburns. He doesn't hate being outside, but he does hate being in the sun. He would rather be inside watching Star Trek. Did I mention that I hate that show?!!! He loves movies and video games. I refuse to play video games and I've grown bored with movies.
Because of his sun phobia, one of the things Matt hates to do is mow the lawn. It bothers me. A lot. The lawn gets out of control. It moves past shaggy and goes to unkempt, rough and rugged! It can be embarrassing. Don't get me wrong, my husband is a hard worker. He just really hates outdoor work. And in all honesty, our lawn is a really hard one to mow! I'm sure he could list plenty of things that bug him about me!! But this is my blog, not his!
Guess what. Those sweet little goldfinches that visit me when I'm doing the dishes, the ones that lift my spirits and make my heart sing, the ones that cause me to worship our great Creator, those little birds are attracted to the weeds that grow in my lawn outside my window. I have spent a lot of time pondering that thought. The weeds that I lament against, the weeds that I wish my husband would mow more frequently, would I get to see those birds without them?
There are voids in our hearts that people can't fill. There are empty spaces. They can be little annoyances or extremely painful deserts. People will disappoint, it's what we do, we're human. God shows up in those deserted, barren places. He can fill those empty places in beautiful, life giving, heart singing ways. There are amazing blessings in those empty places, blessings that might not have come any other way. That is what truly causes me to worship. When I am crying rivers of tears on Jesus's alter during a worship service at church, it's always about my emptiness and Jesus's fullness. Those tears are really all I have of value to offer Him, and he thinks they're so precious that he collects them in a bottle.
I heard Beth Moore say the other day, "Maybe the whole point of the beatitudes is that those who are in need of Jesus are blessed." I think she's right. It reminds me of one of my favorite passages in Isaiah.
Isaiah 41:17-20 "When the poor and needy search for water and there is none, and their tongues are parched from thirst, then I, the LORD, will answer them. I, the God of Israel, will never abandon them. I will open up rivers for them on the high plateaus. I will give them fountains of water in the valleys. I will fill the desert with pools of water. Rivers fed by springs will flow across the parched ground. I will plant trees in the barren desert - cedar, acacia, myrtle, olive, cypress, fir and pine. I am doing this so all who see this miracle will understand what it means - that it is the LORD who has done this, the Holy One of Israel who created it."
Notice, it's the poor and needy who search, who are blessed. It's the ones who's tongues are parched from thirst who's prayers are answered. Being needy is a wonderful thing where Jesus is concerned. And isn't it incredible that God doesn't just say, those who are thirsty will be given something to drink? Just a cup of water is not enough for him. He gives rivers, he gives fountains, so much water that there are even pools in the desert. Not just one tree, he gives 7 different kinds of trees. He is so good and so very generous.
Dear friend, God will fill your empty spaces. He won't just fill them to the top, He'll keep filling until they spill over. Before you know it, you'll be splashing everyone you walk by. So let's try to give people grace when they don't fill us up the way we long for them too. It's another opportunity for God to step in and bless us in the void.
Thursday, August 16, 2012
Jonathan Daniel Forrester
November 27, 1980, I became an aunt for the very first time. I was only 8 years old. I don't have any memories of my sister Rachel being born just 2 and a half years earlier. But between 6 and 8 years old my memory kicks in and I have vivid memories of that day. It was Thanksgiving and my sister Amanda, gave birth to twins. Our whole family felt blessed because of the birth of these precious blessings. Twins, really? And they were beautiful. I was head over heals in love with my nieces from that day on. Not too long after that, my sister had a boy, Ben. Again, crazy in love. Then came Jonathan. He was the youngest and boy was he a character.
I loved them all so much. Each one of those nieces and nephews were so dear to me. Since we were close in age, it felt more like they were my younger sisters and brothers, but we didn't live together, so we didn't fight like siblings. I clearly remember the thought, "I think I'd go crazy if anyone tried to hurt them."
My nephew Jonathan was small when he was born and had trouble gaining weight and I remember night after night praying for him with my dad and Rachel before bed. I was worried and he was precious. Jon-Jon, his nick name when he was young, ended up growing just fine and was a healthy and adorable little guy. We spent nearly every Sunday together, because my sister Amanda, her husband Steve and family would come for Sunday dinner and stay until night church. I loved that. I remember so many Sundays that little Jon-Jon would still be sitting in his highchair way after every one else was done eating. He was too busy playing to eat. He would be sitting there as happy as can be making his spoon talk to his fork. I loved that about him.
As he grew older, he was still easy going, fun loving and funny. He made the whole family laugh. He was 7 when I left for college, so I didn't get to see him as regularly after that, but my love for him never faded. I married, he became a teenager. I had a baby, he graduated from high school. Somewhere in there, he learned to do an amazing impression of my Aunt Jan and her wooden dummy Janny Joy. He had us all rolling with laughter. I remember so many good times. I didn't know how sad he was.
Somewhere after that, addiction set in. I know he struggled greatly with his health and crohn's disease, but I don't know exactly what led him to alcohol and drugs, maybe he was searching for relief, maybe he felt inadequate, maybe, maybe, maybe. I just don't know the answer. I only know that we still loved him. We wanted what was best for him. We prayed for him, we begged God for him.
He did recover for a while. He was doing great in rehab, in recovery. We were happy for him. So very happy. Although he worked hard, it didn't last and before we knew it old habits were returning.
Yesterday, I watched a documentary on Chris Herren, a very talented basketball player for the Boston Celtics. He was also an addict. He was addicted to alcohol, heroin, oxycontin...you name it, he did it. It was a very inspirational story. He finally overcame his addiction. He is making amends. Talking to kids about alcohol and drugs. Busy being a loving husband and father. He got so many second chances. And I'm left wondering, why him?
Don't hear me wrong. I'm not angry. And not for one second do I wish this man any harm. I'm so glad his story didn't end like my nephew's. But still, it's such a mystery. So many things could have been different about my nephew's story. But God let him die. Why? I don't have the answer and I'm okay with that. I trust that my nephew is with Jesus and not struggling anymore. And I have no theology to back this up, and it really is just my opinion, don't take it for anything more than that, but I believe that if there would have been any healing here on this earth for Jon, God wouldn't have taken him home so soon. God is not surprised by his tragic death. His days were numbered before Jon took one single breath, as are mine and yours.
But here we are. We're left with broken hearts. We have to keep going, keep putting one foot in front of the other. If I had known Christmas would be the last time I saw him, I'm sure I would have done some things differently.
I don't even know where I'm going with this blog post. It feels like a bunch of mashed up thoughts, but today marks 6 months since I received that terrible call telling me he was dead. I guess I just want to say that he mattered. He mattered to me, and to so many other people. We loved him. We still love him. Tears still fall. We remember him. I remember him.
Life cannot always be rolled up into a neat little thought. Life is messy and it hurts. My nephew is gone and he's not coming back.
I would so appreciate your prayers for my sister Amanda, her husband, Steve, my nieces Tiffany and Tabitha and my nephew Ben. How do you recover from something like this? Well, there's only one answer and His name is Jesus. There is no other way. Jesus, we need you. Minister to us here and now. We love you and we know you love us.
I loved them all so much. Each one of those nieces and nephews were so dear to me. Since we were close in age, it felt more like they were my younger sisters and brothers, but we didn't live together, so we didn't fight like siblings. I clearly remember the thought, "I think I'd go crazy if anyone tried to hurt them."
My nephew Jonathan was small when he was born and had trouble gaining weight and I remember night after night praying for him with my dad and Rachel before bed. I was worried and he was precious. Jon-Jon, his nick name when he was young, ended up growing just fine and was a healthy and adorable little guy. We spent nearly every Sunday together, because my sister Amanda, her husband Steve and family would come for Sunday dinner and stay until night church. I loved that. I remember so many Sundays that little Jon-Jon would still be sitting in his highchair way after every one else was done eating. He was too busy playing to eat. He would be sitting there as happy as can be making his spoon talk to his fork. I loved that about him.
As he grew older, he was still easy going, fun loving and funny. He made the whole family laugh. He was 7 when I left for college, so I didn't get to see him as regularly after that, but my love for him never faded. I married, he became a teenager. I had a baby, he graduated from high school. Somewhere in there, he learned to do an amazing impression of my Aunt Jan and her wooden dummy Janny Joy. He had us all rolling with laughter. I remember so many good times. I didn't know how sad he was.
Somewhere after that, addiction set in. I know he struggled greatly with his health and crohn's disease, but I don't know exactly what led him to alcohol and drugs, maybe he was searching for relief, maybe he felt inadequate, maybe, maybe, maybe. I just don't know the answer. I only know that we still loved him. We wanted what was best for him. We prayed for him, we begged God for him.
He did recover for a while. He was doing great in rehab, in recovery. We were happy for him. So very happy. Although he worked hard, it didn't last and before we knew it old habits were returning.
Yesterday, I watched a documentary on Chris Herren, a very talented basketball player for the Boston Celtics. He was also an addict. He was addicted to alcohol, heroin, oxycontin...you name it, he did it. It was a very inspirational story. He finally overcame his addiction. He is making amends. Talking to kids about alcohol and drugs. Busy being a loving husband and father. He got so many second chances. And I'm left wondering, why him?
Don't hear me wrong. I'm not angry. And not for one second do I wish this man any harm. I'm so glad his story didn't end like my nephew's. But still, it's such a mystery. So many things could have been different about my nephew's story. But God let him die. Why? I don't have the answer and I'm okay with that. I trust that my nephew is with Jesus and not struggling anymore. And I have no theology to back this up, and it really is just my opinion, don't take it for anything more than that, but I believe that if there would have been any healing here on this earth for Jon, God wouldn't have taken him home so soon. God is not surprised by his tragic death. His days were numbered before Jon took one single breath, as are mine and yours.
But here we are. We're left with broken hearts. We have to keep going, keep putting one foot in front of the other. If I had known Christmas would be the last time I saw him, I'm sure I would have done some things differently.
I don't even know where I'm going with this blog post. It feels like a bunch of mashed up thoughts, but today marks 6 months since I received that terrible call telling me he was dead. I guess I just want to say that he mattered. He mattered to me, and to so many other people. We loved him. We still love him. Tears still fall. We remember him. I remember him.
Life cannot always be rolled up into a neat little thought. Life is messy and it hurts. My nephew is gone and he's not coming back.
I would so appreciate your prayers for my sister Amanda, her husband, Steve, my nieces Tiffany and Tabitha and my nephew Ben. How do you recover from something like this? Well, there's only one answer and His name is Jesus. There is no other way. Jesus, we need you. Minister to us here and now. We love you and we know you love us.
Monday, August 6, 2012
Thankful
If you read my last blog post, you already know that I am reading this book by Ann Voskamp called One Thousand Gifts. It is messing with me. I mean seriously messing with me. Getting under my skin, deep under my skin. It is changing the way I think and breathe and live. I have read it through twice and I'm on my third time now. I cannot recommend it highly enough. I am also keeping a gratitude journal. Not one of those thankful to the universe ones that Oprah made popular years ago, but a thankful to God for every last breath kind of one. To God. The Great I Am. And yes, for every last breath.
A couple Sundays ago I was having my quiet time in the bathtub early in the morning, like I usually do. My devotional had me in Psalm 139 and I read:
Did you hear the ingratitude? It runs deep. Deep. Immediately, I felt conviction. God didn't even have to say what I knew He was thinking. I have never, not once, been grateful that He made me. Most of my life I have lamented the fact that I was on this earth. I have cursed the day I was born and wanted to die too many times to count, and although those instances are happening less and less, I was just there again last week.
The thing that I find fascinating about God is that he's never done. One of the interpretations of "I Am" is "The Ever Is-ing One" meaning always at work. Always working out something good. Always bringing about redemption. In my humanness, I think that it's enough that I just don't hate myself. But in God's God-ness, that's not enough. He wants me to celebrate the day I was born, to rejoice, to be grateful for every last breath.
On my own, I simply cannot do it. I need God to do it. On my own, I beg God to change me. I ask Him why I am the way I am. It's never enough for me. I always want something else, something better, something different. With God, I can simply enjoy the life He's given and stop begging for something I'm not.
So today, I'm asking God for something else. I'm asking Him to help me to be thankful for me, for life. This body that I believe is so terribly flawed has carried and birthed three amazing human beings, has been a comfort to my husband through deep sorrow and times of joy. My arthritic hands have prepared many loving notes, handmade cards, sewed many a project, cooked too many meals and treats to count, washed tons of dishes, have been folded in prayer and raised in worship. My arms have comforted many. I've been told I give a darn good hug. My lap has held and comforted many precious children, most importantly my own dear ones. My eyes have cried many tears of hurt, sorrow, shame, remorse, repentance, compassion, worship and love. I've spent many hours on my knees in prayer for family, friends, loved ones, and believe it or not, even a couple enemies. Although my lips have spoken too many things they shouldn't have, they've also spoken words of encouragement and love and wisdom. My back has helped to carry many of my friend's and loved one's burdens. My feet have paced back and forth with fussy babies. My mind has prepared many lessons to teach a Sunday School class that I love. And my heart has loved way too many people to even count.
Maybe, just maybe God does know better than I do. Maybe He created me on purpose. Maybe He knew what He was doing. And maybe I can be thankful for the day I was born.
A couple Sundays ago I was having my quiet time in the bathtub early in the morning, like I usually do. My devotional had me in Psalm 139 and I read:
Oh yes, you shaped me first inside, then out;This passage was dear to me when I was pregnant with my little ones, but my youngest is almost five and unless God steps in and does a miracle, there's no more babies for the Joneses. My immediate response was negative. I thought, "Whoop-tee do. I've read this a hundred times and it means nothing to me. David certainly thought a lot of himself."
you formed me in my mother's womb.
I thank you, High God—you're breathtaking!
Body and soul, I am marvelously made!
I worship in adoration—what a creation!
You know me inside and out,
you know every bone in my body;
You know exactly how I was made, bit by bit,
how I was sculpted from nothing into something.
Like an open book, you watched me grow from conception to birth;
all the stages of my life were spread out before you,
The days of my life all prepared
before I'd even lived one day.
Did you hear the ingratitude? It runs deep. Deep. Immediately, I felt conviction. God didn't even have to say what I knew He was thinking. I have never, not once, been grateful that He made me. Most of my life I have lamented the fact that I was on this earth. I have cursed the day I was born and wanted to die too many times to count, and although those instances are happening less and less, I was just there again last week.
The thing that I find fascinating about God is that he's never done. One of the interpretations of "I Am" is "The Ever Is-ing One" meaning always at work. Always working out something good. Always bringing about redemption. In my humanness, I think that it's enough that I just don't hate myself. But in God's God-ness, that's not enough. He wants me to celebrate the day I was born, to rejoice, to be grateful for every last breath.
On my own, I simply cannot do it. I need God to do it. On my own, I beg God to change me. I ask Him why I am the way I am. It's never enough for me. I always want something else, something better, something different. With God, I can simply enjoy the life He's given and stop begging for something I'm not.
So today, I'm asking God for something else. I'm asking Him to help me to be thankful for me, for life. This body that I believe is so terribly flawed has carried and birthed three amazing human beings, has been a comfort to my husband through deep sorrow and times of joy. My arthritic hands have prepared many loving notes, handmade cards, sewed many a project, cooked too many meals and treats to count, washed tons of dishes, have been folded in prayer and raised in worship. My arms have comforted many. I've been told I give a darn good hug. My lap has held and comforted many precious children, most importantly my own dear ones. My eyes have cried many tears of hurt, sorrow, shame, remorse, repentance, compassion, worship and love. I've spent many hours on my knees in prayer for family, friends, loved ones, and believe it or not, even a couple enemies. Although my lips have spoken too many things they shouldn't have, they've also spoken words of encouragement and love and wisdom. My back has helped to carry many of my friend's and loved one's burdens. My feet have paced back and forth with fussy babies. My mind has prepared many lessons to teach a Sunday School class that I love. And my heart has loved way too many people to even count.
Maybe, just maybe God does know better than I do. Maybe He created me on purpose. Maybe He knew what He was doing. And maybe I can be thankful for the day I was born.
Thursday, July 19, 2012
Five Months of Darkness
I know it's been a long time since I've written. I'm not even sure why I've decided to write today, I don't really have anything on my heart to say. Which is why I haven't written since September. Matt says that I have been neglecting my writing and I should really make time for it. So here I am sitting at my computer, staring at a blank page.
Life has been hard lately, and I guess that is what is on my mind most of the time. It has been five months since my precious nephew, Jonathan, took his own life. The aftermath of that on my dear sister and her beloved family has been nothing less than devastating. They keep bravely putting one foot in front of the other, but their hearts are forever changed.
Easter Sunday, my Father-in-law passed away. It was only the Tuesday before that pancreatic cancer was even mentioned, it was confirmed on Thursday and he was gone on Sunday. It happened so fast and we are all still reeling. My husband and son's hearts were broken. I've never seen either of them hurt so much.
Shortly after that, Matt and I were told by a Psychologist that Kam, our oldest son, most likely has Autism and we had to sit with that news for about two months before we could get him a real diagnosis.
Then, all within one day I was hit with three different things. First, Kameron does not have autism, but has a very severe case of Sensory Processing Disorder and Generalized Anxiety Disorder. He will need $4,000 worth of therapy and insurance will not cover it. Second, I got a phone call about some blood work because I've had on going health issues. My blood work came back with an elevated rheumatoid factor, my preliminary diagnosis is rheumatoid arthritis. This is the best case scenario. I go to the rheumatologist in September. The only thing we know for sure is that it is an autoimmune disease, we just don't know which one yet. The third was an arrow straight to my heart that shattered it into a million pieces, an arrow so personal that it's not the kind you share on blogs or with anyone other than the closest of friends.
It feels like my heart has been smashed, trampled on and ground in. I cannot say that I have not had times of despair, or resentment, or felt like God was picking on me. There have been plenty of times where I have cried Uncle. I have asked God to help, to deliver, to heal, to be close. So far, he hasn't changed any of my circumstances. My nephew is still dead and his family is still deep in their grief and will be for some time. My father-in-law is still dead and my husband is still grieving. My son still has SPD and anxiety and we still don't have the money to cover his therapy. I am still in chronic pain and won't have any answers any time soon. And worst of all, my heart is still broken.
The one and only thing that has changed is my attitude. God has spoken to me through his word, through sermons at church, friends' kind words and prayers, and through this beautiful book called, One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp. I would recommend it to all who hurt. These have all been bright spots in dark times.
In her book she says,
Satan is out to prove that you and I don't really love God. He wants to prove that we are just in it for the blessing, that when things get hard we'll turn away. There have been so many times in the past, that I have raged at God and wanted to turn away. This time is different. I will still lament, I will still ask God why, I will still pour out my heart. But I will not stop believing that God is always good and I am always loved. I have drawn a line in the sand and I'm not going back. Will you join me on this side of the line? Will you join me and say, "God is always good and I am always loved?"
If you're not there yet, it's okay. God and I have had our many wrestling matches, and he'll wrestle with you just the same. Just know that the statement is true and He will prove it to you in time, if you let Him.
Life has been hard lately, and I guess that is what is on my mind most of the time. It has been five months since my precious nephew, Jonathan, took his own life. The aftermath of that on my dear sister and her beloved family has been nothing less than devastating. They keep bravely putting one foot in front of the other, but their hearts are forever changed.
Easter Sunday, my Father-in-law passed away. It was only the Tuesday before that pancreatic cancer was even mentioned, it was confirmed on Thursday and he was gone on Sunday. It happened so fast and we are all still reeling. My husband and son's hearts were broken. I've never seen either of them hurt so much.
Shortly after that, Matt and I were told by a Psychologist that Kam, our oldest son, most likely has Autism and we had to sit with that news for about two months before we could get him a real diagnosis.
Then, all within one day I was hit with three different things. First, Kameron does not have autism, but has a very severe case of Sensory Processing Disorder and Generalized Anxiety Disorder. He will need $4,000 worth of therapy and insurance will not cover it. Second, I got a phone call about some blood work because I've had on going health issues. My blood work came back with an elevated rheumatoid factor, my preliminary diagnosis is rheumatoid arthritis. This is the best case scenario. I go to the rheumatologist in September. The only thing we know for sure is that it is an autoimmune disease, we just don't know which one yet. The third was an arrow straight to my heart that shattered it into a million pieces, an arrow so personal that it's not the kind you share on blogs or with anyone other than the closest of friends.
It feels like my heart has been smashed, trampled on and ground in. I cannot say that I have not had times of despair, or resentment, or felt like God was picking on me. There have been plenty of times where I have cried Uncle. I have asked God to help, to deliver, to heal, to be close. So far, he hasn't changed any of my circumstances. My nephew is still dead and his family is still deep in their grief and will be for some time. My father-in-law is still dead and my husband is still grieving. My son still has SPD and anxiety and we still don't have the money to cover his therapy. I am still in chronic pain and won't have any answers any time soon. And worst of all, my heart is still broken.
The one and only thing that has changed is my attitude. God has spoken to me through his word, through sermons at church, friends' kind words and prayers, and through this beautiful book called, One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp. I would recommend it to all who hurt. These have all been bright spots in dark times.
In her book she says,
"...all new life comes out of the dark places, and hasn't it always been? Out of darkness, God spoke forth the teeming life. That wheat round and ripe across all these fields, they swelled as hope embryos in womb of the black earth. Out of the dark, tender life unfurled. Out of my own inner pitch, six human beings emerged, new life, wet and fresh.I am waiting for new life. Right now everything still feels dead and dried up. But, I believe that new life is coming. I don't know where or when or how. God may never change my circumstances, but he will change my heart. Even though these times are hard, smell bad and look ugly, he will make me beautiful through it and have me smelling like lilacs. (I think lilacs smell better than roses.) Even if I am bent over and crippled and I look like the witch with the one big eye who gives the poison apple to Snow White, inside I will be a beloved princess. Do you know why? Because God is always good and I am always loved! Do I need to say it again?! God is always good and I am always loved! I will scream these words in the dark even when they don't feel true.
All new life labors out of the very bowels of darkness.
That fullest life itself dawns from nothing but Calvary darkness and tomb-cave black into the radiance of Easter morning.
Out of the darkness of the cross, the world transfigures into new life. And there is no other way.
Then...yes: It is dark suffering's umbilical cord that alone can untether new life.
It is suffering that has the realest possibility to bear down and deliver grace.
And grace that chooses to bear the cross of suffering overcomes suffering."
Satan is out to prove that you and I don't really love God. He wants to prove that we are just in it for the blessing, that when things get hard we'll turn away. There have been so many times in the past, that I have raged at God and wanted to turn away. This time is different. I will still lament, I will still ask God why, I will still pour out my heart. But I will not stop believing that God is always good and I am always loved. I have drawn a line in the sand and I'm not going back. Will you join me on this side of the line? Will you join me and say, "God is always good and I am always loved?"
If you're not there yet, it's okay. God and I have had our many wrestling matches, and he'll wrestle with you just the same. Just know that the statement is true and He will prove it to you in time, if you let Him.
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