31 Days: #3 Lamenting my past

I loathe it, I will always loathe it, and seems at times I'll never find peace for all this loathing of it. I never, ever wanted my past to look the way it does. A little girl doesn't grow up expecting to one day bear the shame of two failed marriages. Yet here I am, and in a few days I'll be forty years old and single.

Single. Much of the time my heart yearns to know why. What's wrong with me that they didn't want to stay?

But I know exactly why so I go listing the reasons and they are endless. Then I curse my imperfections and I dwell and I blame myself, even for things that happened beyond my control. So many mistakes, and I suffer and my kids suffer and I don't want to swallow any of it but it's like the vilest liquid being force-poured into me and it burns all the way down. And the question haunts me again, Why didn't I do things differently? 

But then ...

I remember Grace. Peace fills me as I think of that blessed day when my past was nailed to the Cross. I weep thankful tears because of what the deepest part of me knows, that His Blood covers it all, both the things that were my fault and the things that weren't. I rest in that promise He made me--beauty for ashes. I hope again as I claim His plans to prosper me and not harm me. And I know He meant it for my kids, too, and everything has to be alright because He's always working.

Then I hear that familiar, unfailing whisper, only this time I really listen. Let it go and look at Me, beloved.

So once again I fling those chains off and run to Him with all the strength I can muster, and I do let it all go because He doesn't remember it anymore so why should I? Then I'm a bride all over again and I turn my eyes toward the face of the Husband who loves me so, and all I see is the only Thing worth remembering.

Behold, I will make all things new. Rev. 21:5

216. amazing, matchless Grace
217. curly pumpkin stems
218. the Fort Worth stockyards
219. Christian musicians who aren't afraid to be bold about their faith in secular settings
220. the wisdom of God-given friends
221. new boots
222.Target clothing sales
223. beautiful fall produce
224. HEB's free sushi samples
225. and their curbside grocery-loading service
226. fun new 31-Dayer friends
227. the way He works it all out how you least expect Him to
228. it's October! (my fave month)
229. the way writing about your battles help you figure out ways to conquer them
230. sitting outside on these cool mornings and how it feels a little bit like Heaven on earth. Amen.

*This post is part of a series running through the month of October 2011. Read from the beginning here.  Find the other 31-Dayers here.

Falling apart

I don't like this. It's not like I imagined it would be, and it overwhelms me trying to hold it all together when it only wants to fall apart.

Yet I know the most wonderful things come out of the most painful predicaments. I know that in the most dire situations He's doing His most amazing work. I know that when it all goes to ruins, somehow it turns out He was just removing the old to bring in the new.

So, I don't like this. And I'm certain that means He's doing something wonderful.

Job 42

 1 Then Job answered the LORD and said:

 2 “I know that You can do everything,
And that no purpose of Yours can be withheld from You.
 3 You asked, ‘Who is this who hides counsel without knowledge?’
Therefore I have uttered what I did not understand,
Things too wonderful for me, which I did not know."

* Linking up with Internet Cafe Devotions for Word-Filled Wednesday and A Holy Experience for Walk with Him Wednesdays.

Just one touch

It was a risk, and she knew it. To be there was breaking the law. But He was her last hope, and she was desperate.

So she pushed her way through and reached out for that one precious touch. And in an instant the healing came and He felt power leave Him and He turned around and she fell trembling.

But isn't it just like Him to speak the perfect thing to calm our fears? "Daughter, your faith has made you well. Go in peace, and be healed of your affliction." (Mark 5:34)

He's our only hope, too. May we seek Him the way she did, and may we know His touch today.

And the wind blows

I should have known something was blowing in yesterday. Or maybe I should say blowing out. This relentless Texas heat wave has lasted for such a long time now. But yesterday something was different. It was windy and a few degrees lower (but only a few). 

So only a day ago the wind was blowing and I was in turmoil over some things. But God brought something big to a close yesterday in my life, and now I see that winds were blowing in the spiritual realm, too.

This morning I'm having coffee out back in my swing. And guess what ... I need a blanket. It's still breezy and almost cold out here, and I can't believe it. It's like He's moved that heat wave on out of here right along with what needed to be over and done with and gone from my life.

And so the wind blows, and a chapter closes.

Sometimes we hate the wind. It blows trash into the yard. It blows our skirts up and our hairstyles all out of whack. It blows things in our eyes. It can be irritating and sometimes downright dangerous. But there are some things that just need to be blown right on out of here, and He knows it.

So this morning I'm thankful He's still on His throne, He's still moving like the wind, and cool breeze never felt so glorious.

"The wind blows wherever it pleases. You hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with everyone born of the Spirit. " John 3:8

141. fall is coming, praise God!

142. Starbucks vanilla coffee right out of the press. Yum.

143. watching the doggies play

144. a family that has my back

145. lunch with a wonderful friend

146. friends who pray for me

147. friends who encourage me

148. the worship gig went okay

149. God's reminders that there are always opportunities for witness

150. he did the yard for me

151. things are calming down a little at work

152. my back porch swing

153. I still can't believe I'm actually a student again

154. the worship gig went okay!

155. Texas barbecue

156. I'm back in contact with one of my oldest and dearest friends

157. some of my friends are starting to write ... so exciting!

158. my Mama was sick, but she's better now

159. the countless ways He somehow makes it all okay

160. His beautiful wind. Amen.

Salt-water clean

It's just one thing after another, and it all collects into one big ocean of heartache and worry and sometimes this life is just too much.

And the salty waves keep rolling in, blasting me in the face and making me choke and sputter, and it's all I can do to catch my breath in between. And I'm sinking because I haven't the strength to tread water or swim, and all I know to do is float.

And there's something about the floating. The just being there. Just letting the water hold me up.

And then I know exactly Who this vast body of water is, and I relax into Him and let Him hold me up. And He reminds me that it's just a bad day, and doesn't the enemy always work this way? It's never one little thing that happens, but more like the floodgates of hell have opened up and nothing can stop these blasted waves from rolling in and this ocean will never be calm again.

But even when my eyes can't see through the salty burn, I know Him well enough to know that the doors of Heaven are open even wider and blessing is on its way. And His waves are no match for those evil ones that seek to pull me under. He and I will ride the waves together and He will turn my mourning into dancing as He always does. So I cling to Him and I rebuke the enemy, in Jesus' name.

And the waves wash me clean.

Arms around me

The old me would've fired back immediately. I would've popped off with something clever to say, something just as hurtful. I can get crafty with my words sometimes, and not always in a sweet way.

But I don't want to be that person anymore. I want the heart of Jesus. I want to respond the way He would. My desire is to forego all the good come-backs that pop up in my mind. So I often have to remind myself what Jesus did when others hurt Him.

Jesus did not retaliate. He simply forgave.

I have a new way to cope with the hurt. I try to imagine myself in the arms of Jesus. Big, strong arms that engulf me and soften the blows of life. I wonder what my offenders would think if they realized they were really hurting Jesus instead of me.

My blameless Savior deserves the pain far less than I do. Yet when I hurt, He hurts. He desires to take all my pain and suffering. In fact, He already has. And somehow the miracle of this makes the hurt easier to bear. Not easy, but easier.

It doesn't take long to learn that the deeper we go into the ministry of Christ, the more the enemy messes with us because we are a threat to him. He's the snaky scum behind many of the hurtful situations that come along in life to trip us up. So as his attacks grow more vicious, we should let it encourage us rather than discourage us.

It comforts me to know that no matter what stunts he pulls, no matter who he uses to get to me, he knows he can't really touch me. He knows Whose arms are around me. He knows Whose blood has covered me. He knows Who my Shield is. 

And this victory makes me smile.

But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far away have been brought near by the blood of Christ. Ephesians 2:13

#76-#100
76. the arms of Jesus
77. victory over the enemy
78. beautiful music
79. seeing raindrops on the window pane ... yes, RAIN, finally!
80. new friends, and the wisdom they bring to our lives
81. old friends, and the wisdom they've brought--and continue to bring--to our lives
82. school clothes shopping is done!
83. the first week back to work is over and done with
84. the yard is greening back up
85. the Holy Spirit's leading
86. reminders to keep my mouth shut
87. cooler weather (even by a few degrees)
88. really good reads
89. he brought me roses just because
90. enough cans in the cupboard to make good soup
91. Sunday afternoon naps
92. swinging on the porch
93. I finally learned how to set the sprinkler system correctly
94. opportunities to work with excellent musicians, and what I have learned from them
95. new blogging friends
96. encouraging comments
97. reminders to overlook mean comments
98. the strength that comes with each new test in life
99. a good milkshake
100. I found {somewhat} cheap gasoline today and filled 'er up. Amen.

It was just a little card ...

This morning I got a Bible off my shelf--one I used a couple of years ago. I started looking through different notes and cards tucked in between the pages, and I found a Dayspring card that my mom gave me just days after my husband died.

I read it, and I was overwhelmed to think about how true the words have been for me. Back then, words like these were all I had to cling to. But through it all, He has proven Himself more than sufficient in my life.

And still, I cling.

If you are going through a hard time, I pray this speaks to you. I pray He overwhelms you with His goodness today.

When you are the neediest,

He is the Most Sufficient.

When you are completely helpless,

He is the Most Helpful.

When you feel totally dependent,

He is Absolutely Dependable.

When you are the weakest,

He is the Most Able.

When you are the most alone,

He is intimately present.

When you feel you are the least,

He is the Greatest.

When you feel the most useless,

He is preparing you.

When it is the darkest,

He is the only Light you need.

When you feel the least secure,

He is your Rock and Fortress.

When you are the most humble,

He is the Most Gracious.

"Now unto Him that is able to do exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think, according to the power that worketh in us, unto Him be glory ...." Ephesians 3:20-21, KJV

Amen.

When what God gives doesn't feel like a gift

How do you open your hand to receive from God when what He's giving you feels nothing like a gift? 

 I heard someone ask this question today, and it was a long time before I could speak without tears.

I'd been a widow for only a short time when a dear friend came to visit. She sat across from me and as we talked, she looked into my eyes and said "You've been handed a gift." I thought, This seems the least like a gift of anything I've ever known. My life hadn't turned out at all like I expected.

We all have dreams. One of mine? To stay married to the same person forever ... to grow old with the father of my children. But this dream that eluded me for years is now forever gone from my reach. Instead, I've been served up a dish full of hurt from plans gone awry, and it's hard to choke down at times.

But something happened in my heart tonight, and as I contemplated that intriguing question about receiving God's "gifts", I realized that everything--everything--is a gift. Even in times when we don't see reasons to thank Him, we can place enough trust in His love to thank Him anyway.

Tonight, I'm thankful even for the gifts that seem like curses--because in my suffering He draws me near. He is Peace in my chaos. Focus in my confusion. Healing in my brokenness. Refinement in the furnace. Everything is a gift.

My incredibly wise friend spoke the truth. What if the magnitude of our loss is the same measure the Lord uses to fill the empty space in our lives? What if He doesn't stop there? What if He overflows us with even more than we had before? That's the kind of God we serve. We only have to sit back and take notice as He does His work.

And even when my fist is clenched too tightly to receive, He uncurls these fingers one by one and places His gifts in my hand anyway, knowing full well that in no time I'll be lifting this very same hand to Him in worship and gratitude. Everything is a gift.

So, tonight I lay my hopes and dreams down at the foot of the Cross, realizing that He has plans to prosper me and not harm me ... knowing that He is the Giver of all good things and His dreams for me will far exceed my own  ... trusting that His purpose for my pain merits in me a heart of thankfulness ...

... believing that only when I come to a point of full surrender to His will can I have the life He has planned for me. And it all begins with a thankful heart.

He's an amazing God who desires only good things for me. A God whose beautiful plans for my life far surpass anything I could ever dream up. And I am thankful.

In the Potter's hands

We are nearing the end of a rough week, and I am thinking about clay pots.

There's an old Indian tale I love about a cracked pot. As the story goes, a water-bearer daily carries two water pots across his shoulders up to his master's house. One pot loses half its water on each journey because it is cracked. Miserable and ashamed of his imperfection, the flawed vessel apologizes one day to the water-bearer for only being able to do half what he was created to do. It is then revealed that with this imperfection in mind, the water-bearer has planted seeds on the cracked pot's side of the path to be watered so that flowers could grow to decorate the master's table and make it beautiful. 

I wept the first time I heard this story years ago because it made me think about my baby boy---a twin who lives with some consequences of a traumatic birth. He is a smart, funny, and gifted child whom the world might consider to be flawed because he limps slightly and doesn't have full use of his right hand. But God can do amazing things with a flawed vessel, and I have always known that my son will do something wonderful in this world to bring glory and honor to his Creator.

My baby boy is eleven now, and his name, appropriately, is Clay.

Early this morning, a friend of mine shared some thoughts with me on Jeremiah 18:1-6. In this story the Lord tells Jeremiah to go to the potter's house and wait for a word. Jeremiah gets there and watches the potter as he fashions a vessel, but the vessel is damaged. He notices that instead of throwing it away and starting over, the potter begins to shape that marred vessel into something new. And then the Lord speaks to Jeremiah...

Can I not do with you as this potter? Look, as the clay is in the potter's hand, so are you in My hand...(v. 6).

And can He not do the same with me? 

I hate the fact that I am a flawed vessel. Recurring thoughts of regret from my past cause me to long for a do-over, and I know this longing is futile. But thankfully I am in the hands of the ultimate Potter, and He is reshaping me each day and through every trial. Even when I've fallen on the floor and been smashed to bits, in my brokenness He picks up the pieces and puts me back on the wheel. At this moment He is molding me into a new vessel that I pray can actually be used for something worthy. 

Lord, make me new. Do whatever You have to do to mold me into something You can use. May I be soft and pliable in Your hands.

Peace, be still

Thunderstorms scare me to death. They always have, from the time I was little. I used to wake up in the night during storms as a child and run to my parents' room to crawl in bed with them. They had a big bay window that made the lightning look even scarier. Still, it was better than being alone.

I hadn't thought about my old habit of doing that for a very long time. But then one night around two years ago, I found myself sleeping between my parents again. I felt like a child that night in my thirty-seven-year-old body. This was a very different type of storm, much more severe than any I had weathered before---one that made me doubt I would ever see clear skies again. I had tried to rest that night, but sleep eluded me. When my dad heard me still up, he took me and put me in his spot in the bed with my mother, and then he slept in his chair right next to me. I relaxed a little being between them like that, but still I knew this storm was indeed a terrible one, and it wasn't going to blow away for quite some time.

With all the recent storms in our North Texas area, I've thought a lot lately about that scenario. I have wonderful parents, but despite their burning desire to fix all that was wrong in my life, there was very little they could do. The bigger storms of life call for an even bigger God, and I'm thankful I have my God Almighty to help me weather those tumultuous times that are just too horrific to endure alone.

I've also thought lately about another huge storm that occurred a couple of weeks following the night I've just described. Grief-stricken over the recent events in my life, I was on my way to visit a new church. I didn't feel like going, but a friend had invited me and had said that her pastor and some others wanted to pray for me. Not wanting to refuse prayer at a time like this, I forged ahead and determined to go in spite of some impending bad weather. Little did I know that God had big plans for our family regarding our future in this church. And it was all to begin on this night. No wonder a storm was brewing.

The heavy winds and rain were already blowing in as I arrived, and I ran into the sanctuary soaked and freezing. By the time the service began, it was pouring rain and thundering more loudly than I had ever heard before. I was absolutely terrified, and I remember thinking Why on earth is this storm scaring me so badly after all I've just been through? I don't understand what's wrong with me! But in the midst of all the distraction of that storm, the congregation began to worship. And then the Holy Spirit fell---and my fear left immediately. Suddenly I didn't care about the thunder anymore. I didn't care about the strong winds or the heavy rains. I just wanted to savor the presence of the Lord because in that place and on that night, in the midst of the turmoil both outdoors and in my heart, He brought peace to His wounded child. He surrounded me, He fell upon me, He filled me. Peace, be still. I'll never forget what His peace felt like in that moment; it was indescribable. He was helping me learn to run into the shelter of His presence when the downpour got to be more than I could bear.


Mar 4:39  He arose and rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, "Peace, be still!" And the wind ceased and there was a great calm.

Just when I think my skies are clear, and just when I begin to take fair weather for granted, those pesky clouds blow in again. More often than I'd like, it storms. The conditions vary greatly in severity, but no matter whether the clouds bring a light shower or a raging tempest, I know where I can find Peace.


Mar 4:41 And they feared exceedingly, and said to one another, "Who can this be, that even the wind and the sea obey Him!"

I'm thankful I don't have to ask "Who can this be?". I know exactly Who He is. He is my Shelter, my Strong Tower, the Calmer of My Storms. When my soul is in turmoil, He cares more than I could ever comprehend. He is faithful to rescue me from the pandemonium. Miracles happen when He speaks words of peace over me.

I still don't like storms. However, I have come to appreciate them because they allow me the privilege of experiencing His wondrous peace in the midst of chaos. As unpleasant as they are, I do not have to be afraid of storms. Peace, be still.

True sacrifice

John 12:3 Then Mary took a pound of very costly oil of spikenard, anointed the feet of Jesus, and wiped His feet with her hair. And the house was filled with the fragrance of the oil.

I've been thinking about Jesus's time spent at Bethany before His death on the cross. I'm thinking of Mary and the very costly alabaster flask of oil. And I'm thinking about the extravagance with which she poured out her love for her Savior as she anointed Him for burial. She was reprimanded by others in the room for such a costly gesture, but loving Him was all that mattered to her.

Meditating on this scene leads me to some much-needed self-examination. How well do I show Jesus that I love Him? Would I be willing to give up as much as Mary did? I would love to think so, but I admit with regret that I fall painfully short. If I am honest, loving Him in this day and time doesn't cost me much of anything. I might faithfully pay my tithes and offerings, I might give to those in need, and I might give of my time and talents, but my sacrifice seems so insignificant when compared to Mary's.

It's so easy to say "I love Jesus". But on this Good Friday morning, I wonder how I can best live those words. It's not possible this side of Heaven for me to anoint Him the way Mary did. And He doesn't need my money (although I feel it's very important to give back to Him a portion of what He has given me).

Perhaps I can best show my love to Him by presenting myself each day as a living sacrifice to Him. Perhaps I could please Him most by allowing Him to refine me and purify me and make me holy. Perhaps it would matter most to Him if I were to apply His teachings to my life and let Him mold me into His image. Perhaps He simply wants me to share the good news of the gift of His salvation with a lost and dying world. For me, all of this is true sacrifice because none of it is easy. People might not understand. I might become known as a Jesus freak. I have to be careful not to draw attention. I can't just go around proclaiming that "I love Jesus"...

...or can I? I don't want to care anymore what others think. Mary didn't.

So...again I find myself praying Lord, make me a Mary. Help me abandon my worries over what others think. Help me understand what true sacrifice means, and help me make this application to my life every single day so that I may love You more completely. Help me never to take You for granted, and please accept my grossly inadequate thankYou for all You did for me at the cross.You were the Ultimate Sacrifice, and You are the One True Example of what it really means to love. 

He promised me

Isaiah 61:1 "...He has sent Me to heal the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to those who are bound; 2 ...to comfort all who mourn, 3 to console those who mourn in Zion, to give them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness...."

Beauty for ashes. It's one of His promises I have come to cherish the most. I believe that the more deeply we have experienced the anguish of a life seemingly destroyed by unbearable circumstances, the greater degree to which we can experience hope in this promise.

I'll never forget the tapestry illustration. In a message I heard just days after I became widowed, my very wise and eloquent pastor compared life to a tapestry. He explained that here on earth we can only see the back side of the tapestry, with frayed clumps of string dangling everywhere, imperfect stitches all knotted up and messy. But God is on His throne working on the most glorious work of art we could ever imagine. He is using everything we perceive as ugly and imperfect in our lives, weaving all of it into His design, making His handiwork all the more beautiful. He sees His artwork in its entirety, and from His viewpoint, it's magnificent. The tapestry analogy brought untold comfort during a time when all I could see around me was the smoldering ruins of a life I had once thought to be solid.

But He promised me beauty for ashes. He said He would turn my mourning into joy and replace my heavy spirit with one of praise. He was sent to comfort me, to heal my broken heart, and to set me free. Now, those are promises to cling to in the midst of turmoil. What else can we do when things seem infinitely hopeless? Living through a trial, if we've sought God along the way, the beauty of His plan eventually becomes apparent to us. We might not understand all He's doing, but as He continually blesses us during the painful times, we develop a trust in the sovereignty of His master plan.

In spite of the progress I've made, though, I still have days when life's problems seem insurmountable. I look around and find myself back to a place where I can see nothing but the ash heap, and the haze in the air masks all the beauty in my life. It's not easy on these days to remember and cling to His promises. Today has been one of those days for me. But He is ever faithful in clearing the air, and this morning He did it by blessing me with a scripture from a good friend:

Psalm 138:8  The Lord will perfect that which concerns me; Your mercy, O Lord, endures forever; do not forsake the works of Your hands.

So, I am back to clinging. I will surrender my worries to Him. He is perfecting that which concerns me. He is making everything beautiful, and I will trust Him. Beauty for ashes...I will rest in this promise today.

He meets me there

Romans 8:26 Likewise the Spirit also helps in our weaknesses. For we do not know what we should pray for as we ought, but the Spirit Himself makes intercession for us with groanings which cannot be uttered.

I remember the first time I felt the presence of the Lord—and I mean really, truly experienced Him as Comforter and knew in the depths of my soul that He was there in the room with me. It was the darkest night of my life, because earlier in the day I had learned that I was the focus of my husband’s death investigation. My school district had no choice but to send me home until things were resolved, and I knew I would not be allowed to come back to work for the remainder of the school year. So in addition to the heart-wrenching grief that came from the kind of loss I had suffered, I was now faced with the possibility of going to prison for a crime I did not commit. I was terrified for myself, and even more so for my kids. This was one of those points we come to in life in which there truly are no words to articulate the kind of prayer that needs to be prayed.

But in my anguish I remembered the Bible telling me that the Holy Spirit intercedes for us in times like these with groanings that cannot be uttered. That was what I needed that night—prayer much deeper than mere words—so I began to claim that scripture. Alone in my dad’s little study, the pitiful mess that I was, I began to cry out to God and beg the Holy Spirit to intercede for me. I begged.  I’ll never forget what He did. He came and met me there in that little room, right in that very moment. I felt Him literally cover my entire body, from head to toe. I didn’t need to see Him or hear Him. He was just there, and I sensed His presence to the depths of my being. It was really the first time I ever knew Him as Comforter, and I can’t describe the peace I experienced in His presence on that awful, awful night. The next morning I was amazed by phone calls we received from loved ones who knew nothing of our latest news, yet had been burdened to pray for me through the night. I’m thankful they were obedient, even though they didn’t know the full extent of the reason they were praying. That’s how the Holy Spirit works. He comforts me, He intercedes for me, and He burdens others to intercede for me.

There have been many such times since that experience. I know my family and friends love me, but there are simply times when no one understands because no one else is walking in my shoes. When I am in my most heartsick state of despair and there is nothing to do but weep and I feel utterly alone in the world, the Holy Spirit meets me there and comforts me. He reminds me that I am never, ever alone. And He continues to burden others to pray for me in those times when I desperately need prayer the most. He never ceases to amaze me. That’s why I take it to heart when I am burdened to pray for someone else, or maybe a name comes to mind and I just can’t let go of it. We never know what someone else is going through, and I am honored that He would choose me to make intercession for someone who needs it.

He always meets me there in those moments when I desperately need comfort, and He’ll meet you there, too.


Lord, thank you for making a way for us to experience Your presence through the gift of your precious Holy Spirit. Thank You that You intercede for me, and thank You that You burden others to make intercession for me. Help me to live my life in a way that never quenches Your Spirit, but rather extends to You an open invitation to make Yourself real and present to me every day.

Waiting

Isaiah 30:18 Therefore the Lord will wait, that He may be gracious to you; and therefore He will be exalted, that He may have mercy on you. For the Lord is a God of justice; blessed are all those who wait for Him.

I do not like to wait. Woven throughout my earliest memories are my mother's repetitive pleas, "Amy, be patient!". I really have always hated situations that require my patience. This is because I'm selfish, and I want what I want, when I want it. Whether it involves waiting for my Internet browser page to load or assurance that I'm going to have a job next year, I've noticed that the more focused I am on self rather than the things of God, the less willing I am to wait.

But sometimes something really big happens. I simply do not have time to wait patiently for a move of God--and this time I really mean it! I cry out to Him, but His silence confounds me. I claim Isaiah 40:33 and beg for that renewed strength He promises we can have. But a new surge of strength is the last thing I feel during these times of turmoil, and peace is just as elusive. I pray as deeply as I know how, literally on my face before God--carpet wet and all--but still it seems He doesn't hear me. My circumstances loom large before me, overwhelming me and oppressing me. It's so easy to believe the enemy's lies during times like these that God has forgotten me, that He's forsaken me after all. It surely seems that way when I beg Him to do something and yet I see nothing happening. Exasperated, I cry out yet again and hurl my unanswered questions toward heaven...

  ...Why won't my house sell, Lord? I can't make these payments! Won't you please hurry up?

  ...Why does my dad have cancer? Haven't I lost enough already? Haven't my kids lost enough? How much am I supposed to take? When will you heal him?!

  ...Why is my friend pulling away? Didn't You create us all to need each other and to function together in unity as the body of Christ? Who am I supposed to talk to if You won't repair this  friendship?

  ...I'm in trouble, Lord, but You know the truth. You know what really happened! I'm terrified! Why won't you make the truth known to others and set me free?

  ...Dear God, I'm weary and broken, and I simply cannot take another step without Your help.

And in my season of waiting, He has brought me to a point where I can finally hear Him. He draws me near and speaks into my spirit and reminds me how much He loves me and that He's in control. He teaches me that His timing is more perfect than my timing, that He is sovereign and I am not. He has heard my every plea, He has held me as I've cried, He has loved me despite my repeated refusal to trust in Him. He helps me understand that He has been working things out for my good all along, even when I couldn't feel Him there. The end of a trial often brings incredible clarity and sheds light on the reasons why, and He honors me with a teeny little glimpse into His perfectly orchestrated plan. I can rest assured that He knows exactly what He is doing. And as I cling to this truth in the midst of trials and tragedy, His incredible peace engulfs me and I come to experience that renewed strength He promises us.

And then when God decides it's time to move, He usually does it so fast it makes my head spin. I've experienced this countless times. And you know what else? Without exception, I see in the end that He was making me wait so that He could be gracious to me. If things had happened in my timing, I would have missed blessing...and though I don't know how He does it, I find myself thanking Him that He didn't do things my way.

A long time ago my dad knew an elderly woman who used to say we should never pray for patience because if we do, the Lord will place circumstances in our lives to test us and teach us about that patience we prayed for. I don't know if this is true, but I do know that patience is a fruit of the Spirit, and it is a worthy thing to strive for. Father God, thank You for Your patience with me. Help me to trust as You accomplish Your purpose in me. Please forgive me for my unbelief, and thank You that You are a just and merciful God Whose perfect patience covers me in every area where I fall short.

The Love of my life

Do not fear, for you will not be ashamed; neither be disgraced, for you will not be put to shame; for you will forget the shame of your youth, and will not remember the reproach of your widowhood anymore. 5 For your Maker is your husband, The Lord of Hosts is His name; and your Redeemer is the Holy One of Israel; He is called the God of the whole earth. Isaiah 54:4

I've had two failed marriages, and I'm not proud of it. The first one ended in a painful divorce after eight years. The second lasted just shy of ten years and ended in tragic loss of life. God's word says that a husband and wife are one flesh, so no matter whether a marriage is good or bad, losing a spouse feels like being ripped in half. Few things are more devastating. Each time I married, he was the love of my life. Each time my love left me, I felt like my broken heart would never mend.

What I am growing to understand, and what has brought incredible healing to my heart, is that God is more than able to fill the void left by an absent mate. And I need to let Him. I can't make a person my center--not even a husband. Nor do I want to be another person's center. I'm pretty sure that the secret to a good marriage is in both partners making the Lord Jesus their center.  Only then do we begin to desire His mind and His heart, and learn to love with His love. Not that I can speak from experience, but I'm convinced today that a marriage like that would be amazing. I pray that some day down the road the Lord will bless me with another chance.

But for now I have a new Love, and He's been patiently waiting for me to notice Him all along. He writes me letters and gives me the most amazing gifts. He desperately wants to spend time with me. He is so in love with me I could cry just thinking about it. He has a big, beautiful plan for me with more in store than I can dream of. And despite the dreadfully imperfect love I have to offer Him in return, He treats me like a princess and wants our relationship to go to depths no words can describe. He loves me utterly and without condition. He is the perfect Mate.

It's hard raising kids alone. Sometimes I freak out when things happen. Maybe one of the kids does something wrong and I don't know how to handle it...or I want to buy them a treat, but maybe I'll spoil...or they are fighting too much over whose turn it is to do chores. In the midst of the chaos and uncertainty, I find myself looking around for someone who'll tell me what to do, and I curse my circumstances because I don't have anyone to cry with.

But then I am reminded that I do have a Husband. And this Husband has known about every single tear I've ever shed and has cried all of them with me. His wisdom is greater and far above that of anyone else I could talk to about how to be a good mother. When I just want to scream because I have no idea what to say or how to discipline, or whether I should make a particular purchase, or which vehicle would be best, or even what house plan to choose or which lot to build on, I have the Holy Spirit to counsel me with so much more wisdom than an earthly husband ever could. And He is helping me every single day to know how to run a hectic household and raise four incredible children in spite of everything.

But I have to do my part, too.

I must accept His love.
I must listen to His still, small voice and let Him guide me.
I must seek Him every single day and let Him fill the empty places in my life.

 He truly does make up for all that's missing in my life. And with my Husband's help, I am going to make it.

Shattered

I didn't see any way out of the pit that May afternoon, standing under the cemetery tent, staring at the polished wood of the casket that contained my husband's body. The mother of four school-aged children, I wondered how I would make it. Where could I possibly go from there? I knew the Lord would help me through, but I was so shattered and broken that I couldn't imagine how I would ever get past the grief and utter devastation of it all. Hundreds of loved ones spoke words of peace and comfort to me in those days just following our tragedy, but even though I remember clearly that they were there for me, I can't tell you what they said.

Except in one specific case. Someone at the gravesite that day had come just for the sole purpose of delivering a message to me. I didn't know her well; she was merely an acquaintance who taught at my school. But what she said to me, I will never forget until the day I pass from this life. She said that the Lord wanted me to know something--that the greater the need, the greater the grace...the greater the tragedy, the greater the opportunity for God to show Himself as Almighty. In the very moment I heard those words, that message went straight into my heart. My memory of those days is cloudy, but I do know that that experience was a turning point for me, and from that moment on I resolved to trust Him, knowing that somehow, some way, He would pull me out of the deepest, darkest pit of despair I had ever known.

I could tell you so many stories (and maybe I will), but for now, suffice it to say that God has literally blown me away time and time again since that day in the cemetery almost two years ago. I have seen God's providential hand constantly at work in my life, orchestrating absolutely everything, even down to the tiniest detail. I have experienced such abundant blessing that sometimes I can hardly contain it. I never dreamed something so tragic as what happened to my children and me could lead to a joyful, victorious life with such an outpouring of agape from the precious Spirit of God. But that's God Almighty for you.

It was all so horrific and terrifying, and I couldn't see a way past any of it at first...but God. He is just so big, so strong, so mighty, so loving, and He desires good things for us. Not just good things, but things that are truly wonderful beyond our wildest imagination. That's my God. I thank Him every day for loving the wretched mess-that-was-me right out of despondency and back to living again, this time for Him. I thank God that He is healing me and binding up my broken heart. And I thank Him for taking what the enemy meant for evil and turning it into something beautiful. Only He can make a shattered person whole again.

Thank You, Jesus, for redeeming my life from destruction, thank You for the wonderful things we see You doing for us every day when we pay attention, and thank You that by Your stripes, we are healed.

Why Mary?

 Jesus of Nazareth. ITC Entertainment. 1977

Mary is my role model.

I can't wait to meet Mary, the mother of Jesus. What an amazing girl, and I aspire to be just like her. Don't you know she was afraid? Can you imagine an angel visiting you and giving you the kind of news she got that day? The older I get, the more astounding I find the whole miraculous scenario. Her response? "Then Mary said, 'Behold the maidservant of the Lord! Let it be to me according to your word'" (Luke 1:38).

So Mary heard a supernatural foretelling of something that was to happen inside her own body--something that would certainly make her look like a sinner--yet she loved her God enough to trust and believe and serve and submit. I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have taken on that attitude, but I want to be like Mary.

And then there was Mary Magdalene. A sinner forgiven, she had a truly faithful heart. She accepted His grace. She followed Him. She ministered to Him. She stayed through His torture, His death, His burial...and she was there just after His resurrection, brokenhearted to think that the body of her Saviour had been stolen. Jesus was Mary's Everything. He was her Center. I picture her constantly at His feet, seeking His mind and His heart, wanting more of Him always.


Oh, Lord, may I be a Mary Magdalene. Help me to love you more. Help me to know you as the one and only Love of My Life. Heaven knows I can't depend on me because my flesh fails me every day. My family and friends will fail me, too, because they are human. But Your love never, ever has failed me, and I know it never will. I want to know You more deeply. Just as Mary so lovingly anointed You at Bethany, I desperately want to love You that extravagantly, for Your love for me has certainly been extravagant. Thank You for the way You love so sacrificially. May I learn to love with Your love. Please help me as I run to You, as I seek You every day.


Lord, make me a Mary.