New Year's Eve 2019

I've never been a huge fan of New Year's Eve.  For one, I'm not a party person.  Although I often wish I were just to fit in, I'm really more of a hang with my family for game night kind of girl.  I've tried the going out thing, but I'd like to have some friends around.  Of course, I want them on my territory so I don't have to go out.  Someday...

Truth is, I view it as just another day.  I wake up and go to bed and usually long before any ball drops signifying the Cesarean created calendar's end and beginning of a year.

Beyond the actual New Year's Eve stuff, I also hate all the looking back and planning forward.  It all just reminds me how inadequate and unprepared I am.  Yet with all the hub bub from everyone else, your mind can't help but go there.

As I reflect on this year, it's been an exceptionally hard one.  I feel stuck in the middle of a storm watching my world fall apart before my eyes, but truly helpless to do anything about it.  And I feel more alone this year than I have ever felt before in my life, yet my world is crowded beyond belief.  So many are only in my life because I keep trying to hold on to them, help them, be there for them, while I can't even hold on.  Yet I feel guilty for those I have dropped.  It's a lonely place to be. 

And oh, have I missed my daddy this year.  He always knew exactly what to say or do in situations.  After 19 years, I think I miss him now more than ever.  The other night I dreamed of him for the first time in a long time.  I woke up and smelled baked apple, but heard the cabinets slamming (baking and slamming were things he did when frustrated).  I walked down the hallway and saw my mom's tray ready with her tea, toast, and home-grown rosebud.  I didn't check but I'm sure the napkin had a note on it.  Then he turned and saw me; that infectious smile lit his face as he walked over and hugged me with that hug that lets you know everything is going to be okay.  I've never met anyone who could hug like my daddy.  When I awoke from the dream, I found that the silence of the house (it was 3:47am) was deafening and such a letdown to my hurting heart that just keeps pondering if this will be the year things get better.

This morning, after I read one of my morning devotionals, I was irritated and frustrated because it was the same old New Year's Eve "the past reminds me how blessed I am" message.  As I fumed, I started reading the biographies of the contributors to the devotional.  And of course, there were plenty of the ones where everything is perfect in life - side note: author bios are the original Facebook posts; everything is grand and you only see the good.  Then I read one where the writer talks about how all the mishaps finally caught up with her and she was left feeling anxious and unsure.  "It was a season for gathering under God's wing - because that's the only place I feel truly protected and made strong." (1)  Another discussed feeling like it was impossible to escape the heat in life.  Another said her word for the year was transition.  Another ended hers with the news of the death of her husband of 70 years after being cared for at home.  Others talked of self-doubt, changes, struggle, pain.  One listed songs that she listens to when things are too gloomy and heavy to help transform her heart back to its focus of trust (yes, I created a playlist of those and more).  

I know it seems strange, but this brought me such comfort.  Sometimes life is just so overwhelming.  Especially when it feels like everyone else is surfing through life while you are under the board, can't find the bottom to get some footing and the waves keep coming so you can't catch a breath.  Don't get me wrong, I know there are people struggling in the world, but when they're not in your inner circle, they might as well be characters on TV.  And everyone's struggle is different.  A person struggling with a sick child feels very different than one struggling with divorce or addiction.  Truth is we all struggle.  And although our struggles are different, struggling is still hard. 

 Galatians 6:2 says, "Carry each other's burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the way of Christ." I don't believe that this means we won't ever feel alone.  I don't believe this is a command to handle other people's problems or try to control lives or a request to fix things.  I believe that this is a command to reach out, to walk alongside, to listen.  I think it's a call to know that all struggle is hard, and each person is different.  I think we need to love one another.  I think we need to know it's okay to need to let go, to not be able to fix things and to not have all the answers (the control freak in me is getting hives from stating that).  

Scott Walker, a guideposts contributor, says, "Faith is renewed through the broad range of our experiences and emotions." (2)  This is my takeaway from 2019.  Life is more struggle than blessing right now.  And yes, I see blessings too, but they are far outnumbered right now.  But that is okay.  Faith is being renewed.  I will keep putting one foot in front of the other until I cross this bridge from struggle to resolution.  Whether I feel alone or surrounded, I will not stop because hope is what anchors my life.  That hope has been built on the evidence that with God all things are possible.  Evidence that God will use all things from my life for good.  Evidence that weeping may endure for the night (and it's been a LOOOOONNNNGGGG season of nights), but joy will come in the morning.  Evidence that I am not alone, but God will never leave me or forsake me.  That evidence is that past 47 years.  Bring on 2020!

Transforming my Heart Playlist

(1) Carol Knapp; Daily Guideposts 2019; p591

(2) Scott Walker; Daily Guideposts 2019; p602

Favorite Christmas Carols

Every year there is one Christmas carol that becomes my favorite of the season.  Last year it was "When We're Together" from the animated short Olaf's Frozen Adventure.  My heart becomes overwhelmed with lines like, "'Cause when we're together I have everything on my list, and when we're together I have all I wished," or "'Cause when we're together that's my favorite place to be."  Last Christmas, my grandchildren were the fun ages of 1 and 3, my son was a struggling 13-year-old and I was overwhelmed with just how fast time goes and how short life can be.

This year, I've been the one struggling.  Life has been exceptionally messy and difficult this year.  I've found myself weighed down by life and my inability to figure out the next step, or even how I'm feeling in this moment.  I've been praying James 1:5, "If any of you lacks wisdom, he should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to him.  But when he asks, he must believe and not doubt because he who doubts is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the wind."  I believe with every fiber of who I am that God has a plan for me (and my family).  I have absolutely no doubt that He can use all things for good because I've seen Him do it.  Yet I still feel like I'm falling short.  The evidence is overwhelming, and I feel like I'm living in a darkened pit.

This is not the recipe for an awesome Christmas season.  As we started advent, the message was "Be aware and be prepared."  My first reaction was, "Oh, I'm aware...and to prepare, I'll start bracing myself now."  Wait...that's not what he meant.  So, after re-listening to that sermon and the one from Thanksgiving, I started by prayerfully asking God to show me what I needed to be be aware of.  In comes this year's Christmas carol.  

I was driving to a training for work, listening to the "Christmas Focus" playlist I created (my attempt to get my mind right), when Francesca Battistelli's "Be Born in Me" comes on.  From the start the song grabs me:

                             Everything inside me cries for order

                              Everything inside me wants to hide

I start to laugh while talking to God, "I'm pretty confident what I am thinking isn't what she intends here, Abba, but oh is every fiber of me crying for order and every part of me just wants to hide away.  Lord, life has never NOT been messy, so why am I feeling this way?  Years of single parenting, teaching/working, kids with health complications, roller coaster issues and I have never felt so unglued."  Then comes the chorus:

                              Be born in me. Be born in me.

                              Trembling heart, somehow I believe

                              that You chose me

                             

"Oh, Lord, my heart is trembling because somehow, even through all of this, I do believe that You chose me.  You. Chose. Me."

I couldn't get out of my head the next few lines:

                              

                              I'll hold you in the beginning, 

                              You will hold me in the end

                              Every moment in the middle,

                              make my heart your Bethlehem

                              Be born in me

I know this song is an ode to Mary and the birth of baby Jesus, but I kept thinking about how those words spoke of our faith.  When we first find our faith, we hold so tightly onto Jesus, His word and all His promises.  We work hard to build and strengthen our relationship.  And then in the moments that we are struggling; when our faith is weak and our doubts need to be overcome, He holds us.  Every moment in the middle I long for Jesus to make my heart His home - His Bethlehem.  Just to be born in me.

Of course, with my mind pondering this, I completely missed the rest of the song so on repeat it went.  The more it played, the more my mind solidified its thinking.  Then suddenly the bridge became my heart's cry:

                           I am not brave, I'll never be

                           The only thing my heart can offer is a vacancy

                           I'm just a girl, nothing more

                           But I am willing; I am Yours

As the tears yet again stream down my face while I write this, I find comfort.  I may not be aware of much right now and I certainly do not feel for prepared for much of anything, much less Christmas.  I don't feel any wiser to deal with the things I'm struggling with and I still feel overwhelmed and unglued.  BUT that's okay.  I'm holding on to Christ and He's holding on to me.  I may not have anything to offer this season, but I am willing, Abba, and gratefully I am Yours.  So, I will continue to be aware of even the littlest blessing and I will continue to prepare my heart by remembering God's promises.  For this year that's enough because here in the middle, He's making my heart His Bethlehem.  

PS I keep thinking that I need to make note somewhere of the song that becomes my favorite each year.  As I think back over what some of them have been, I think they are a testament to where I am at those points in my life.  <3

PPS Here is the link to our sermons, just in case you're looking for some sound teaching:  https://www.buzzsprout.com/522397

A Legacy of Life and Love

The first Maundy Thursday foot washing service I remember was in my teens.  It was just my daddy and I that night, though I don't remember why.  We sat in the 2nd row at St. Peter's having made the journey across the bridge for this event; back when making the journey across the bridge was a bigger deal.  Daddy washed my feet with tear filled eyes reminding me that, like Christ, we are not here to be served, but to serve.  After regaining his composure, he hugged me and told me that it was a great privilege to serve me.  It was a "real" moment for me.  The ones that stick tight to your memories and deep within your heart.  I can close my eyes and go back to that moment so clearly in my mind.  Another tender time we shared.  Who knew that within the next decade, he'd walk his own path to death on an Easter weekend.

These days prepping for Easter are always tough for me.  As busy as it is with all the church services and other busy things going on, it doesn't matter what dates they fall on, they will always remind me of Daddy's final days.  This year they are especially raw.  I'm not sure if it's because the dates are close (he died the 21st), or if it's the number of years that have passed (19), or if it's something with my youngest now being a teen, or if it's because I've been struggling so much with life lately.  I've missed him more in the last year than ever.  I long for his perfect hugs - the smell of his Old Spice that let me know he was near - the deep sigh before he prepared to impart some wisdom, that although I groaned at MANY times, I always tucked away - his goofy humor and many laughs - his ability to put the past in the past and treat each day/experience/mistake as a new one - his love for all things of nature (and his many pictures that never had people) - his never-ending encouragement, especially when he was always in so much pain himself - his ability to always make me believe that everything was going to be okay, no matter what.  I  miss him terribly.

This year's Maundy Thursday service started with a parishioner clasping his hand on my should to say hello.  Something about this man has always reminded me of Daddy, eerily so.  But last night I wasn't looking; I was focused on my thoughts and prayers and it was as if Daddy had walked into the room as he had a million times in my childhood.  It made me jump the familiarity was so strong. 

Throughout the service I was edgy about something.  I could feel my irritation setting on the surface.  I even seriously considered not getting my feet washed with a ton of reasons/excuses to back it up.  But I gave in because it's what Daddy would have wanted me to do... "Let go and let God"  So with intentionality and a mind of stuff, I allowed my feet to be washed.  When done, it was my turn to serve.  I looked up to see whose feet I would be washing.  There, my reluctant teen son was next in line.  Suddenly I, like my daddy so many years before, was overcome.  As I washed his feet with my tear filled eyes, I think I may have known a little of what my daddy felt that night.  So overwhelmed with the privilege of serving this child, yet a little fearful of the enormity of the task. 

Raising children is hard.  Don't get me wrong, it's a privilege and there are wonderful moments.  And it's an honor to believe that God thinks I'm worthy and able to do this most important job.  But, MAN!!!  IT IS HARD!!!  And the older they get, the harder I find it...I've learned I have some control issues.  And most days I look at them and see more ways I've personally failed than succeeded.  As a single mom, I come so short of being all they need.  Then add that there are some medical issues that have made some challenges greater.  And their faith struggles make me feel like I should have done more; it breaks my heart to not be able to fix it.  And even though 2 are adults, there is still so much I want to make sure they've learned.  But most importantly, I hope that I taught them what my daddy taught me: 

1)  To love God with all their heart, soul and mind....it's where hope grows from.  Life has never been easy for me, mostly because I get in my own head and way and that is not a good thing.  But even on the days that I feel like giving up, I can't because I know I have a purpose and plan here, even though I don't know what it is.  God promised in Jeremiah 29:11 that He knows the plans He has for me; they are plans to prosper me, not to harm me; plans to give me hope and a future.  PLANS.  He never said it would be easy.  He never said there wouldn't be pain.  In fact, He promised there would be challenges and disappointments and hurt.  But He also promised that He could use all things for good and that He would never leave me.  He told me not to fear, but to trust in Him.  And on the days I feel the most hopeless, He reminds me....sometimes it's by overwhelming me with the guilt of leaving this mess I've made behind for someone else to clean up, but those are on the really bad days.  Most days, I'm encouraged to keep trying by His love and His promises.  A love my daddy used to talk to me about all the time.  A love I believe in with everything I am.

2)  To love others.  It never ceased to amaze me (and annoy me during certain points of my life), how my daddy always loved others.  Even when I found a person detestable, Daddy could point out something good.  And he never met a stranger.  It didn't matter what you looked like, smelled like, acted like or what you were going through.  He talked to everyone and about everything.  He could point out everything that you were doing wrong and make you feel like a million bucks about it and you'd walk away encouraged and with hope.  Everywhere we went he knew someone.  But it wasn't because of some power or prestige.  It was because he loved.  He was always willing to help others, no matter what it took of him.  It didn't matter how he felt.  My daddy's medical issues kept him in constant pain, at least for my entire life with him.  Pain they never found a source of, an answer to, nor relief of.  He had more surgeries and device trials than anyone I know.  A pacemaker, a tenz unit - I sometimes thought he was a human science project.  And because of his struggles with addiction, he usually refused to take anything.  He joked to me once that his drugs were Jesus, laughter, Mom and others.  He truly served others with his heart.  He lived his life to the fullest and to the fullest extent he could love.

So as I sit here and reflect on Holy Week, I pray about this legacy of love.  Eternal life given to me through the cross so that I may live, forgiven and free to give eternal love.  I pray that I can make both Daddy and Jesus proud.   I pray that I can look past the outside to just love like they did.  I pray that my fear never gets in the way.  Most of all, I pray that I pass that same legacy on to my children and grandchildren.  And I pray that one day they know the privilege of serving. 

Where's the race taking me????

This morning I was reading a devotional from Katy McCown (First 5).  It ended with this prayer:

"Dear Jesus,
           I want to run the race marked out for me in 2019 with my eyes fixed on You.  Set my pace that it may complement, not compete with, your purposes.  In Jesus' Name, Amen."

Instantly I reached for my journal.  I had to write this down!  I don't do goals or resolutions...they only make me feel bad about myself.  But this prayer?  This was perfectly my heart.  As I was writing, I found myself, like most of us do, making adjustments.  My personal addition to the prayer looks something like this:

Abba,
        I believe with every fiber of my being that you know the plans you have for me.  I believe they are plans to prosper me and not to harm me.  I believe that your plan is to give me hope and future.  I just have no idea what that plan is or which way to go.  I have a tendency to get stuck in the rut of life, Abba.  It becomes my track and I run this race on it.  Afraid to change lanes too much.  Afraid to leave the track and run somewhere else.  Afraid to slow down.  Afraid to look like I don't know what I'm doing or where I'm going.  Unable to focus on anything except everything around me that is trying to threaten my race - schedules, jealousy, confusion, emotion, etc.  Focused on the train wreck I can't seem to avoid, I plow on through as fast as I can. 

But that is NOT what I want for 2019.  I want to run the race YOU have marked our for me.  I want to keep my eyes fixed on you so securely that even when those distractions come, they are no more than a passing glance for you and I to discuss.  I want my pace to complement your purpose for me.  I don't want to compete with you, because I know your way is better.  My pace is exhausting in a life draining sort of way.  Your pace is easy, your endurance is light; your endurance is steadfast.

For 2019, I need you!  You have made it clear to me that I have to make some changes.  There is a restlessness in my heart nudging that it's time.  I am confessing that not only am I terrified, but that I have no idea how to do it or what changes to make.  Be my running partner.  Or even better, my pace car!  Guide me on the path to your plan for me.  Show me the way and the speed.  Put blinders on me to train my eyes (& my heart) to be fixed only on you.  And may 2019 be the year that you want it to be for me; filled with your best, with learning experiences that grow me in you, and without all the pitstops for my wayward injuries from plowing through without you.

2018 was all about grace.  May 2019 be all about your plan.  And may it be the best year yet!

A question for you today

Okay, my faith filled friends.  Deep thoughts:  I want to ask a question I've been pondering for years, but has been weighing on my mind heavily the past few days as I pray for a sweet family I know and follow through a prayer group on Facebook, as well as share with others.  Let me start by sharing a snapshot of their story:

On December 26 their sweet baby son made his entrance into the world to face insurmountable complications from a wrapped cord, including the strong possibility of never waking up.  After many starts and stops, hills and valleys, tests/labs and discussion, the decision was made the on December 31st, to remove the baby from all tubes and allow Jesus to bring him home.  As of 9:30pm January 1st, he is still alive, and decisions are needing to be made for the next step...all of which point to how far to go with assistive measures until he passes - hours, days, weeks, months. or years from now.  People on the prayer site (now 1.7K strong) are now sharing their miracle stories with the family to encourage them through this time.

So here is my question:  How do you pray fully for a miracle but not allow yourself to get selfishly caught up in the expectation that it will happen? 

I believe that God can and does do miraculous things everyday.  I've seen them, read about them and even lived them.  But I find myself praying for this family with caution and worrying about them getting their hopes up based on the miracle stories others are sharing.  Can God choose to save this baby and have him grow and flourish in this world?  Absolutely!  I believe with every fiber of my being that He can.  But what if He doesn't?  What if that is not the plan?  What is this is just a piece of an ever bigger thing we can't see?  God's plan is perfect but we can't always see it all.  We don't know how this moment plays out in the whole picture of God's plan. How do we pray for the miracle but also guard our heart to know that it might not be His plan?  If we declare the miracle - accepting preemptively that it is God's ability and plan, are we veering into our own belief of how it should be, rather than trusting God to do what is best in all that we can't see yet?  Kind of like saying, "I know you CAN do this and so you WILL do this." Demanding in our hearts/expectations as we ask in our prayers.  Then, we get ourselves so assured as we "rest in our knowing" of God's plan that we fall horribly if that is not the path or choice or result.  Then we crack open the door into a crisis of faith as we wonder why God didn't choose us.  Did we do something wrong?  Was our faith not strong enough?  Are we being punished?

I find myself praying with caution:

I know you can do this Abba, but if you don't, give us/me the strength and courage to deal with it, the wisdom and discernment to understand, the peace to accept it, and the faith to hold on in hope for all of your plan.

Is my faith weak?  Do I believe, but struggle with unbelief?  Am I allowing fear to hold me back from the miracle that could occur if I just reached out and touched the hem? Am I being too practical?  Although it is this situation that has my mind here now, it is true for every prayer request I make.  I wonder all the time.

So today's blog is not a statement, but rather a question.  It's a conversation starter and I hope that you will comment where you stand.  I will be continuing to look to God for my strength.  I will be holding on to His promises and searching prayerfully through His word for answers.  Hebrews 6:19 reminds me that "We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure."  So IMHOPEFUL4EVER!

Just a few of my favorite verses about hope:

You will be secure, because there is hope; you will look about you and take your rest in safety. Job 11:18

At least there is hope for a tree: If it is cut down, it will sprout again, and its new shoots will not fail.  Job 14:7

Guide me in your truth and teach me, for you are God my Savior, and my hope is in you all day long.  Psalm 25:5

We wait in hope for the Lord; he is our help and our shield.  Psalm 33:20

Yes, my soul, find rest in God; my hope comes from him.  Psalm 62:5

Therefore, since we have been justified through faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ,  through whom we have gained access by faith into this grace in which we now stand. And we boast in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope.  And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us.  Romans 5:1-5

Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer.  Romans 12:12