Casting Call

Let me just begin by saying that I am not a spiritual guru. I do not have all the answers. In fact, I have more questions than answers. The difference for me is that I allow those questions to go unanswered allowing God to fill in the blanks when and how He sees fit. Of course I haven’t obtained perfection in this area either. I often find that in my effort to not disrespect the Almighty I remain mum, at least outwardly. I just accept it as it is, eventually. Of course upon hearing shocking news I will freak out first. Then shut my mouth and try to turn off the relentless ranting in my brain. I know better. I do so many things that I know better not to do. Like, freak out for example. It’s like once I allow the shock to absorb I try to just absorb the shock. That isn’t what God has commanded me to do.

Today as I attempted to nap the phrase, “Cast your cares,” rolled through my noggin. “Give all your worries and cares to God, for he cares about you.” (1 Peter5:7, NLT). I imagined that I was drifting off to a place where there were no worries. No cares. No concerns. No demands. No stress. Just weightless, joyful peace. I considered busting out my iTunes library of serene sounds like ocean waves, rain, thunder, and birds. However, I almost need a hoyer lift to get myself out of bed these days so I just let my mind drift. Into a place of calm, quiet. Breathing deeper and deeper surrounded by lush beauty. There was no such thing as cancer, infertility, endometeriosis, preeclampsia, depression, abuse, death, or sorrow.  That must be what it is like. God takes it all away as He wipes one last tear from our eyes. “He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.” (Revelation 21:4, NIV).

Then I woke up…. My heart longed so much for Heaven that it began to ache.

And I steam rolled myself out of bed and out to the couch. Where I sat with tears.

“A season is not over until God has deemed it over,” I have heard Beth Moore say this on more than one occasion. And I completely agree, now more than ever before. The last few years have been a roller coaster ride, to put it mildly. The Top Thrill Dragster has nothing on me! I can go from gut wrenching laughter to tears in 8 seconds flat. I have ridden extreme waves of emotion. Experienced the highest of highs and the lowest of lows. I have wept tears of joy, thanksgiving, praise, regret, pain of every sort, and pure sorrow. But there is honestly something to gain from all of it. Before I became pregnant I was seriously incredibly thankful for the entire difficulty of infertility. I have even thanked Him for my nephew’s cancer. And sincerely felt thankful. Because I know that my God is good, no matter what. No matter what. He will turn everything to beautiful in it’s time.

That’s the hard part. Waiting. Time. It can tick so slowly. Especially when you are actively waiting. Waiting for results, for answers, for healing, for a baby 😉 “Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord.” (Psalm 27:14, NIV).

God didn’t just put these things into His Word so I can read it and say, “Oh my that sounds so nice. I will just wait for the Lord,” In a little southern belle accent. He put it in there for us to obey it.

For someone like me, and many of you, bed rest is like being hit by a freight train. I go go go go go (or at least I was trying to during this last trimester of pregnancy) and then bam! I find myself sitting aimlessly on the couch for hours, days, now a week and a half. At least after my surgeries I was encouraged to get up and move. And every day I was able to do more and more. With every doctor’s appointment that rolls around this time, I hear more of the same. “You need to continue on bed rest…”

Okay. So, I’m going to stop the steam engine blaring in my brain and just cry out to God.

“Lord, You created me! You know how much I enjoy relaxing with a good book or a good movie now and then…but seriously! I can’t take this much of myself. What do you want me to do? I am willing to surrender. Just show me what to do.” Honesty with God. It’s such a stress reliever. And I love how He accepts me and showers me with peace when I am openly honest with my feelings with Him. No more trying to shove it away because it seems so sinful in relation to a perfect and holy God.

I’m still waiting for an answer. I pray that I can quiet my heart and my mind to hear Him and to gain direction, wisdom, and understanding. Perhaps it is something as simple as allowing me to go through these things so that I gain a greater compassion for others who find themselves in difficult situations. Or maybe He sets me apart in times of loneliness for a more complex reason. I will do whatever He asks of me, I will put my full trust in Him, cast my cares on Him, and I will seek Him diligently as I wait.

Like Martha and Peter

It has been way too long since my last blog. I just haven’t had a mind clear enough to write. Surely, I was going to blog all throughout my pregnancy and share the hilarious, the humiliating, and the humbling aspects of pregnancy with my friends and few faithful readers. Alas, it did not happen. It’s not that I didn’t talk this over with God. But the conversation went like this, “Lord, I just don’t feel like it and honestly I don’t have time.”

And this is where I have become like Martha. Usually more of a Mary myself, living for the opportunity to just sit at the feet of Jesus, I have warped into a new species, Martha. Martha was dearly loved by Jesus (John 11:5) and Martha certainly wanted Jesus to know how important He was to her (Luke 10:38-42). But in this section of Luke we see Martha distracted by preparations. Since becoming pregnant I have become preoccupied with “need to do’s” and “have to do’s” and making plans for this and preparing for that. I have planned, prepped, and preoccupied my mind right out of what is truly important. Jesus. I was still being obedient of course. Like Martha I invited Jesus into my home. “Come on in Lord! Have a seat let me get You some coffee while I make breakfast, clean the house, go to work. You sit there and make Yourself at home while I sit here and think about the list of things I have to do in order to glorify through my career…” Yeah, I used to just sit down and drink my coffee with Him. I stopped opening my heart and my ears because I had too much to think about and too much to do.

Well, now I have no excuse. Bed rest has that effect, it forces you to make time. And believe me I miss being Mary.

Jesus never said that what Martha was doing wasn’t important. He just simply said only one thing is necessary. Oh thank You Lord! That is so freeing!! Of all things on my “to do” list, only one of those is necessary and that is being present with Him. Hallelujah! I have more peace in my heart from that one Truth than I have had in months.

Yesterday I realized that instead of just “noticing” that there were 3 bright yellow finches and one red finch on my finch feeder I was able to enjoy them. The beauty of their colors and markings and the sweet sound of their song. And they way they just flutter around, weightless, joyful. Yes, God indeed was right to slow my butt down and force me to rest.

But I’m not just like Martha. I am an awful lot like Peter too. I want to see my Savior walk on water and I want to join Him! Look at what I can do because of You, Jesus! … as my feet begin to sink and the waves punch me in the face. I haven’t been feeling well but as most of us nurses know, we can be incredibly stubborn. Oh yeah, I’m seeing spots that’s probably not a good sign but I should try to work 2 jobs at the same time anyway. I mean, I have Jesus and with Him I can walk on water! I don’t know about you but I am making myself laugh.

So Tuesday I get this feeling in my gut that I should go over to the Birth Center and ask my lovely seasoned co-workers what they think about my “symptoms.”

“You look like crap,” one of them said. Thanks, I feel like crap. And as it stands I have preeclampsia.

Seriously!? Immediately, I started feeling guily. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have ate that chicken sandwich and sprite for lunch today. I should have ate more fruits and veggies. I should have walked an extra few miles this week. And then I hear, “you will probably be on bed rest…” Bed rest? What? You mean, no working 2 jobs?! Nothing is ready for fall semester! I’m leaving my co-workers to sink… No cleaning, cooking, walking? I WON’T GET PAID! Ahhhhhhhhhh. If I hadn’t been Martha, I probably wouldn’t have become Peter. But just like that I took my eyes off of Jesus and looked around at all the waves surrounding me and crashed.

Jesus said, “The one who comes to me and hears my Words and puts them into practice is like one who built their house on solid foundation. When the storm came that house could not be moved. But the one who hears my Words and does not put them into practice is like one who built their house on sand. When the storm crashed into that house it was completely destroyed.” (Luke 6:46-49 paraphrased).

Sometimes God has to go to great lengths to get my attention. I’m sorry Lord for ignoring Your still small voice and listening when I should have. This isn’t what I had planned. But I have said over and over that disappointment is a part of life and I accept it as it is. Nothing at all can change Your plans. Besides, Your plans are better than mine.

.

What the Lord has Done for Me

In September of 2007 I was experiencing consistent right-sided abdominal pain. A trip to the ER led to surgery for a ruptured ovarian cyst and appendicitis. After that surgery I was never the same, physically or hormonally.

I would continue to see doctor after doctor for terrible menstrual cramps and abdominal pain. Vicodin was typically the drug of choice prescribed to me, which left me feeling like nothing less than a drug-seeker. One ultrasound after another pointed to no ovarian cysts and no explanation for the physical pain I was experiencing.

And then their was the rash. The red burning rash that would cover my entire body. The rash that felt like my body was awash in flames. And fatigue, oh the fatigue. My legs would splinter with muscle pain, even walking became a hard task.

A doctor finally sent me to a rhuematologist for check for an autoimmune disease. It was then that I was finally diagnosed with hypothyroidism. A reason for the fatigue and muscle pain. However, I was still unsettled with the diagnosis. First of all, as a nurse I knew the long-term effects of this disease and it was all I could focus on. Heart disease, mainly. Secondly, I still felt that something else was wrong.

At this point in my journey I had still not become pregnant and I really began seeking out a reason. I knew something was wrong with my body. I just knew. I was stressed and tired and overly emotional. I had more ultrasounds and I took my temperature every morning. My doctor put me on the dreaded clomid, which intensified my already hormonal temperament. No one seemed concerned about the abdominal pain, which felt like someone was ripping apart my muscles and squeezing my internal organs. Rated a 10/10 on the pain scale, this pain would bend me in half, cripple me, paralyze me, cause me to sweat, and become nauseous. My amazing husband had to pick me up out of the bathtub because I couldn’t move. I thought I was dying, seriously.

One evening I went to a quiet place beside the church to pray. I was in so much pain but the sun was setting against a clear sky, burning colors of orange and pink. I thought a distraction and some time with the Lord would ease my mind and help me to refocus. By the time I left the church parking lot, I couldn’t even sit straight in my seat to drive. I am not even sure how I made it home. Right away my husband took me to the ER and I came home with nothing. No answers. Just more frustration.

Throughout all of this time I cried a waterfall of tears. I prayed for and loved the baby I was waiting for. I laid flat on my face before God, soaked my Bible with tears, suffered depression, saw a counselor, and ended up with more peace in my heart than I can even begin to describe.  I read of Sarai, Rachel, Hannah, and Elizabeth. I began to realize that God wasn’t punishing these women by keeping their wombs closed but He loved them tremendously. Eventually, each one would be blessed with a son who played a major role in God’s redemptive plan. God always has a significant purpose for hardship. Of course, I would have moments of frustration and cry out to God, heart aching, not knowing what He was doing in my life. But deep down I knew, God is good. I trusted Him with my life. And in the deepest days of sorrow and pain I was thankful for this hardship. Jesus was tangible and there were many days that He would wrap me in Himself and carry me from sunrise to sunset. My relationship with Him deepened and grew, I wouldn’t change that for one painless day.

In March, 2011 God led me to a Christian doctor. I sat in the exam room for 5 minutes. Her eyes met mine and she listened. A week later I was having exploratory abdominal surgery. I was diagnosed with stage IV endometriosis. My uterus and ovaries were wrapped in scar tissue, covered by endometriosis, and adhered to my intestines. I would need major surgery.

The night after that surgery I lay in bed with the Words ‘Luke 13’ swirling through my head. It was so persistent I couldn’t sleep. So, I kneeled at the edge of my bed and read in the dim moonlight about a woman who was crippled over in pain, bound by Satan. And Jesus said to her, “Woman, you are set free from your infirmity.” (Luke 13: 10-13). Of course, this led me on a Word hunt and what I found became my life-line. The Word infirmity used here is the same Word Paul uses to describe the thorn in his flesh in 2 Corinthians 8: 8-10. “Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But He said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”

What I was about to witness was God’s miraculous power through my weakness, my infirmity, my infertility, my pain.

On June 1st, 2011 I was pruned down to the heart of God. He was all I could rely on. I sat in the OR prep Bible clutched in my hands reading 2 Cor 12 8-10 over and over. If God chose not to heal me through this surgery, His grace was enough. I didn’t need anything else.

After 6 hours on the OR table I was glued back together and began a journey of healing. I was told by my physician that I had a 40% chance of pregnancy in the first year and after that it became less and less every year.

On December 28, 2011 I was driving late at night to my best friends house in Indianapolis. My husband was fast asleep in the passenger seat and I was listening to praise music. Every song spoke to my heart, it was one of those moments when God became tangibly bigger than anything else around me. Suddenly, I felt Him closer and softer, more tender than I had ever felt Him in my life. I turned off the radio and sat there, stunned. All I could say was, ‘thank You.’ And the thought entered my mind. Did He just knit together a baby in my womb?’ (Psalm 139:19).

A few weeks later I sat in my quiet time when I felt this still small voice say to my heart, “I have a surprise for you.” Am I pregnant? I felt God smiling down on me. Finally, a couple of days later on January 9, 2012 I took a pregnancy test. And God said, “Surprise!”

Today as I write this I am 19 weeks and 5 days pregnant with a baby BOY. I feel what Sarah, Hannah, Rachel, and Elizabeth felt. The joy of the Lord! Now, I can say these words said by Hannah in 1 Samuel 27-28a, “I prayed for this child, and the Lord has granted me what I asked of Him. So now I give him to the Lord. For His whole life he will be given over to the Lord.”

I have journeyed through Egypt, been released from bondage, walked through the desert, blessed beyond imagination. I have crossed the red sea and watched God devour my enemy. I witness Jesus walk on water, calm the storm, and call me to Himself. I have been pruned (John 15) so that I can bear a fruitful life by a God who loves and disciplines. A God of miracles. The God who has healed me. I wouldn’t change one piece of my journey. This is what the Lord has done.

The One Who Knows My Soul

Whenever I read a Karen Kingsbury novel, I feel inspired to write. She makes it seem so easy. The words flow smoothly from the pages as I find myself immersed in the story, in the characters, and the plot. Parts of my soul resonate with each of the characters and I can feel what they feel. That is the best part of a good book.

I think about it a lot. Writing. But I rarely have the time to dedicate myself to it. Life just flies by and the next thing you know that character I thought up diminishes with the setting sun.

It makes me emotional. I’m not even that good at it. Nor do I have much experience. My love and passion for writing comes from a place within my heart that I am not too familiar with. That kind of passion almost frightens me. So, it gets pushed aside.

Writing for me is like a cure for loneliness. It is an escape from the reality of loneliness that grips my heart and soul. This feeling is something I have never quite been able to grapple with. I can be surrounded by friends and family and still feel starkly alone.

Finding the positive in all things has been on my radar lately. Hence, the blog. I need to put into words what I am thinking and feeling before it disperses like a mist.

Loneliness reminds me that this temperate planet is not my home. When I am surrounded by loved ones yet feeling completely alone, I am reminded that no one can fill the void in my life. There is a God-shaped hole within my soul that can only be filled by Him alone.

If I long to be known, I remember the One who knows the number of hairs on my head. If I am aching to be heard, I remember the One who hears my every thought and prayer. If I want to be understood, I remember the One who knit me together.

This God who loves me is so intimate and tender. Yet, looking at the night sky I marvel at how enormous and powerful He is. Billions of light years away, is a star ten times the size of our sun. And lying next me with fur as soft as silk lies a cat who wants my attention. My God did that, all of it. And then He shared it with me. He gave me the ability to gaze at the stars. Daily He shares with me the melody of birds, the sound of which lightens my heart. He allows me to watch as the sprouts of flowers and buds burst forth in spring and as they slowly open to life, I humbly enjoy the palate of colors.

For what more could I ask of Him?

False teachers, and prophets, and deception OH MY!

I just cannot sit by and watch any longer as our nation and churches fall apart. We are living in an era of great deception and I’m not just angered by it, I am moved by it. My heart aches for the lost. Literally, there are knots in my stomach.

I don’t claim to be the most intelligent person in the world. I do not have a degree in Biblical studies, I am not a theologian, or a Biblical scholar. I am just a simple girl living a simple life who happened to ask God to open her eyes.

The other day I was in a patient’s room assisting my students with giving IV meds. This patient had the TV on, flipping through channels she stopped on “Good Morning America.”  They were talking about the changing roles of women in America so immediately, of course, my ears perked up. I love women and it is challenging in this day and age to “be” everything our culture says we should be. For example, I should be able to hold down a full-time job, raise my kids, drive a mini-van to practices, cook dinner, clean the house, coupon, fold laundry, and make sure my husband doesn’t cheat on me by keeping my body thin and wearing Victoria Secret bras and panties. It’s ridiculously impossible.

So, these women on Good Morning America begin talking about how women are “doing it all” and the attitude among American women today is…Dun Dun Dun…we don’t NEED men. I don’t think I need to go into much more detail there. We all live in this culture, we listen to radio and watch television. If you haven’t seen it by now, you are totally blind. This is not just an attack on women in our society, it’s an attack on men as well. Men need to be needed and this American woman certainly NEEDS her husband. He makes me a better person. In serving him I am fulfilled. He helps me and I help him. He encourages me, lifts me up, and makes me feel important. Yes, that was God’s intention! I don’t just need any man, I need my husband and I am thankful for him. There are many men and women who are doing it alone, without a mate, and it’s not easy. My mom was a single mother for many years and I know it took its toll on her. And some people choose to remain single. If that is the life that God has called you to, then He will give you the strength be victorious in it. But that does not give us the right to develop attitudes of superiority.

All of this reminds of Romans 12:2 when Paul tells the believers not to conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but to be renewed by the transforming of your mind.  It’s like if you tell the world you are a Christian, they think of you as puny, weak, judgemental, and plain dumb. Because the world says there are many ways to God. The world says, “it’s okay, do it. Fall in love, get married, but remember woman, you don’t need a man. Be independent and if you fall out of love, big deal. There is always divorce.” But looking at how the world lives, constantly trying to get ahead, and striving to gain what is so easily lost, I will still choose Jesus Christ. Somehow the idea of what a Christian looks like has been completely distorted. There are so many false teachers and preachers in this world. I for one, do not want to be deceived. No one knows when Jesus will return again but with our eyes open we can begin to judge by the signs of the times. It could be tonight or it could be 100 years from now, but one thing is for sure. He will be back…

“Jesus answered: Watch out that no one deceives you. For many will come in my name, claiming, ‘I am the Christ,’ and will deceive many. You will hear of wars and rumors of wars, but see to it that you are not alarmed. Such things must happen, but the end is still to come. Nations will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom. There will be famines and earthquakes in various places. All these are the beginning of birth pains. Then you will be handed over to be persecuted and put to death and you will be hated by all nations because of me. At that time many will turn away from the faith and will betray and hate each other, and many false prophets will appear and deceive many people.” Matthew 24:4-11

After watching a clip on Oprah this evening, I had about all I can take. Talk about false prophets…whoa. Sometimes, I wonder how on earth God can put up with such an adulterous, murderous, sinful nation. Then I remember that He is merciful and His patience is as a thousand years. He does not want anyone to choose death but desires that everyone chooses life. So, He gives us many chances to do so. But we must keep watch because we do not know the day or the hour of His return (Matt 25:13).

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JW4LLwkgmqA&feature=player_embedded

My Mom

The quiet rumbling of the railroad tracks arouses my conscience. The trains whistle blows persistently as it makes the way into our sleepy western Ohio town. Memories of years gone by flood my thoughts. We lived no less than seventy-five yards from the railroad tracks. My mom and I would sit on the balcony of our second story two bedroom apartment and dream about the day when we would have a “better” life. At times the trains would shake the wooden structure and drown out any nearby sound. Looking from above in to the fenced in backyard of the house across the alley we wished for a pool and a backyard with a dog. We spent many a summer night on that balcony. And many a winter night gazing out those french doors watching snow flakes flutter to the ground. It was in the apartment building that I developed a love for board games and the sacred time of togetherness. Those are memories I will cherish in my heart forever. Although just a young adolescent girl with raging hormones, I loved my mom dearly and with every passing day I grow to love her even more. There was and is nothing like her wrapping me in her loving arms and rocking me until peace enters my soul.

My heart has always longed to be a mom like her. To give love unselfishly and to say “I love you” and “I’m so proud of you” without reservation. To work hard providing and giving everything within my means. To make left over mashed potatoes taste like heaven. And after the anger passes, to find the humor in a sink clogged with bacon grease and walls painted in chocolate cake. What can I say? My mom has a special touch with children and she makes them feel incredibly special and immensely loved. Who wouldn’t want to be like her?

So, I just wanted to pay tribute to my mom. I want to say “thank you” mama for all you have done for me, for teaching me to work hard, love hard, laugh hard, play hard and to let the ones you care about know how you feel. Thank you for your encouragement and for always being there for me, no matter what. I wish you a very Merry Christmas and for the peace of Christ to rule your heart and mind. I love you,

Your Daughter,

Cindy

A Letter to Jesus

It’s not easy when your heart aches. It’s not easy when you feel like the only person in the whole world who wants to be honest about it either. Lord, I have asked you to break my heart for what breaks Yours. There must be a whole lot about this round planet that makes You weep.

I look into their eyes and I feel their pain. And maybe it’s my pain too. Maybe it’s because I get it and I’m not afraid to admit that this life hurts.

I could use a little more laughter. It seems so serious these days. I look around and all I see is pain. Oppression. Abuse. Loss. Disaster. Broken hearts.

Christmas is just a few days away. A time when many of us will gather with family to eat too much and open too many presents. We will indulge ourselves in excess because we think we deserve it. It is Christmas time. Everyone will smile, share jokes, and talk about the weather but no one will say what’s really on their hearts and on their minds.

Christmas, as we have been told, is a time for joy and peace. But what most of us have is anxiety and sadness. Because the Truth is that Christmas is a time to remember the Reason that You came in the first place: we live in a broken world and we are all in desperate need of a Savior.

Yes, Christmas is just a few days away and we have been told that we should feel peace and joy. Perhaps there is a hint of regret over the fact that we don’t. Honestly, Christmas is also a time when we recall all that is wrong. We miss those that have passed before us. We are acutely aware of broken relationships. The realization of financial hardship presses in like iron on a griddle. We want more time, more chances, more opportunities but none of it will ever be enough.

Let’s just be real. We are walking around this earth with holes gaping as wide as the Grand Canyon. Jesus, You know better than anyone that this world is a brutal place to be. It’s scary to be us. It hurts to be us.

Nobody ever asks me how I am doing and expects me to be honest. If we were sincere with one another the typical response of, “Good. How are you?”, would rarely be spoken. Did you know that in 2011 there was a record number of broken weather records? Tsunami’s, floods, hurricanes, tornadoes, and earthquakes ravished the world. Homes and lives were lost and destroyed. Unemployment is at an all-time high. Childhood sexual abuse is so common that it has become a topic at the dinner table. People are more concerned with money than with each other. Neighbors rarely talk and divorce is an easy option.

I can resonate so deeply with what the author of Ecclesiastes must have felt as he penned this divinely inspired book.

“Meaningless! Meaningless!” says the Teacher. “Utterly meaningless! Everything is meaningless.” What does man gain from all his labor at which he toils under the sun? Generations come and generations go, but the earth remains forever. The sun rises and the sun sets, and hurries back to where it rises. The wind blows to the south and turns to the north; round and round it goes, ever returning on its course. All streams flow into the sea, yet the sea is never full. To the place the streams come from, there they return again. All things are wearisome, more than one can say. The eye never has enough of seeing, nor the ear its fill of hearing. What has been will be again, what has been done will be done again; there is nothing new under the sun. (vs 1:2-9).

Everything is meaningless. According to Ecclesiastes this includes: everything, wisdom, folly, pleasures, toil, oppression, friendliness, advancement, and riches… Everything is meaningless.

But Jesus, You came. You came to seek and to save the lost. Because this is the state in which we live in a world that spins and rotates around and around again. Nothing is new. We are born and then we die. The Good News is that we who believe in You are not left to this fate. This is not all there is. There is life overflowing. There is an abundance of love, peace, and joy. Christmas is the fulfillment of all that was promised. You Lord Jesus were born, like us, and died, like us. But You Lord Jesus rose again! You gave us purpose! A reason to hope! A reason to cherish moments of joy. A reason to accept with thanksgiving, the hardships of this life. In the conclusion of the treasured book of Ecclesiastes lies the only answer to all that is meaningless:

“Now all as been heard; here is the conclusion of the matter: Fear God and keep His commandments, for this is the whole duty of man. For God will bring every deed into judgment, including every hidden thing, whether it is good or evil.” (Ecc 12: 13-14).

Thank You Father for the birth of Your Son, Jesus. For His life lived perfectly upon this earth in which He teaches me the Truth in love. For Your blessed Holy Spirit that leads me, convicts me, and brings my every deed, every hidden thing into judgment, and teaches me to be Christ-like. I love you, Jesus. Thank you for bringing meaning into all that is meaningless!

An Unexpected Path

 

This has been an especially long week. Let me get comfy so I can tell you all about it.

Okay. Much better. Cozy pj pants, hot cocoa, and a warm fuzzy blanket as I sit next to my 7ft pre-lit rustic country Christmas tree. Ah yes, I am all settled in for the evening finally relaxing and doing what I love.

The dog is walked, the dishes are done, the floor is swept, and I still have a list of things that need to get done at work. But that’s why I am writing because I need to wipe clean the chalkboard of my mind.

I have just not been myself this week at all. It’s the strangest thing. I completely forgot about a meeting on Monday and missed it entirely. I cancelled an appointment that I was sincerely looking forward to because I didn’t feel like going or talking to anyone for that matter. I worked over 10 hours yesterday and completely forgot about youth group. I hate to admit that as those young ladies are always on my mind but somehow I didn’t even realize that it was Wednesday. I went to bed last night with a pounding headache and woke up this morning with one even worse. I took some medication and climbed right back into bed to sleep it off. I woke up once again just feeling oddly strange and a bit off my rocker. I feel like my body is in one place physically while my mind is somewhere else all together. My thoughts are unusual, lacking the depth they typically delve into. I stare into space as I picture a tiny little broom sweeping away the cobwebs that have replaced the synaptic connections in my brain. I don’t know, perhaps I am just exhausted. Maybe it is stress. Maybe it’s a defense mechanism or a coping strategy of my subconscious protecting me from the dagger of loneliness. It could be that God has begun leading me in a different direction than what I had originally thought or planned or expected even. Something feels strange and I can’t pinpoint it but whatever it is, I’m ready to move on.

Sometimes when God has plans for us that do not coincide with our own plans it leads us down a path of ill-acquaintance. The other day, in the middle of this odd week, I was on my way to work after stopping at the lab to get my blood drawn. I was on the opposite side of town from where I live so I decided to take a road which would return me to my usual route to work. One thing I have noticed about myself, I am much more predictable than I used to believe. My routes rarely change. I like the quickest and simplest way to arrive where I am going. Oh, but this day had to be different. Apparently, I missed my turn and continued driving until I eventually realized that I wasn’t even thinking about where I was going. It was almost as if I just “woke up” out of a slumber and stumbled upon myself in a car driving toward the west side of Lima when I needed to be heading east. I turned on the next road and tried to map out my route in my mind. I had it all figured out but instead of turning again I just kept on driving straight. Once again I “woke up” and realized that I was unfamiliar with the route I was taking. All I could rely on was that which I knew never changed, direction. North, south, east, and west. As I continued heading east I saw a sign indicating that I-75 was up ahead. I never did find an exit on to the interstate. I continued east and eventually came out at an intersection just south of my typical route. I would make it to work with only minutes to spare. Once I made the turn onto the road of familiarity it dawned on me that perhaps God has a different, unexpected route that He wants me to take. Something that I have not planned, envisioned, or dreamed. He created me for such a time as this (Esther 4:14) with a specific plan in mind. He has a reason and a purpose for my being on this rotating planet and I want to know what that is. So then, I must rely on what I know is unchanging, constant, and true. The One and Only God: my Father, His precious Son, and His guiding Spirit.

Regardless of what it feels like I want to be on the path in which I am unversed and unskilled. It is then that God’s power can rest upon me to let me and those around me know that He is here.

So which path are you on?

               OR

 

It’s Not Just a Bad Word…

It’s not that I want to complain. Writing is just a wonderful way for me to express my thoughts. And it has just been a bad day.

I am just tired. I am tired of the word infertility. The sound of that words pierces my heart like a dull sword and then rips through my gut. As if the blood draws every other day aren’t enough to remind me of the barrenness, the news of yet another friend or relative experiencing the joy of pregnancy is. Please don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I am not happy for them. What an exciting and joyous adventure it must be! It’s just that I feel as if I am being left behind in the dust. Literally the desert sands and barren land creates cracks in this clay vessel. The only thing that can quench my need is the Living Water. And yes, He is more than enough.

But can I just be honest? The ache in my heart never stops. Never. There are times when it is more obvious and other times when it is lessened by grace and yet other times when it’s not apparent as it is replaced with God’s peace and joy. Still, it is always there.

I am reminded when I can’t relate to what my girlfriends are experiencing: pregnancy, childbirth, and raising children. I am reminded as I decorate for Christmas and remember all the dreams that have lived in my heart for my children to experience. Dreams of hanging ornaments on the tree while sipping hot cocoa and watching The Grinch. I am reminded every time I glance at the stockings hanging from the fire-place and see three for my crazy mammals and one each for me and Craig. I am reminded when people makes subtle comments on my need to hurry and have babies. No one ever means harm and it’s easy to tell me to brush it off, but regardless the words having a lasting sound as they ring in my ear.

I have heard everything from a 40% chance of pregnancy to an 80% chance. You can tell me all day long that those are good odds however, what I hear is that I have 20-60% chance that I will never get pregnant. No, there isn’t anything that anyone can say to make it better. All I need is a hug, a strong cup of coffee, and my Savior Jesus Christ.

Can you just pray with me? Can you pray for me? Please don’t tell me to relax. Please don’t tell me that I will get pregnant after I adopt. Please just don’t. All I need is to have my feelings acknowledged. Whether right or wrong, it’s how I am feeling. Jesus will make my path straight and eventually He will lead me to the river of God where I will have my every longing met. Sometimes I need to feel the hurt and I need to cry.

What’s Your Excuse?

Giving up.

What’s your excuse for giving up?

Discouragement. Fear of pain or loss. Uncertainty. Risk. Embarrassment.  Lack of confidence. Shame. Unbelief.

Harsh realities. Meaningful words.

When I was 12 I entered a story writing contest. Writing was my joy and my passion. Other than reading it was my second favorite pastime. I was pumped up, excited to create a story that I knew was destined to win. Lead strokes pressed to paper as my mind raced with characters woven into a riveting plot filled with love and adventure. Ah, yes every little girls dream… I submitted my story puffed with pride, certain that I had just penned a masterpiece of literature.

It was time for the results. As the teacher announced the contest winners I sat on the edge of my seat waiting for my name to be called. But it wasn’t. My story didn’t even make into the top three.

Discouragement.

Then something happened. I stopped writing. I became convinced that I wasn’t talented enough, creative enough, or smart enough. My dream of writing was deeply submerged into the deep recesses of my soul and I gave up. My literary masterpiece became a crumbled piece of trash.

It seems silly to me now that I would allow one small failure keep me from pursuing that which I loved so dearly. Perhaps it was an opportunity for God to humble me. Or perhaps it was an opportunity for me to overcome discouragement and failure with perseverance and reliance on God. Either way, I allowed my disappoint to rule over me and my hard work ended in the city dump.

The compassion that Jesus has on the women in the New Testament astounds me. I find that the more I go through in life the more I can relate with each one of them. The woman who was subject to bleeding is no exception. According to Mark 5:26 she had been under the care of many doctors but instead of getting better, she became worse. She was frustrated. Disappointed. Angry. Uncertain. Fearful. And treated as an outcast by her own people. When a women was bleeding in Jesus’ day, she was considered unclean and no man could be with her. In fact, as history tells it she had to walk around yelling out, “Unclean, Unclean!” Embarrassed. Oppressed. But when she heard about Jesus and put her faith in Him, everything changed.

A large crowd followed and pressed around him.  And a woman was there who had been subject to bleeding for twelve years. She had suffered a great deal under the care of many doctors and had spent all she had, yet instead of getting better she grew worse. When she heard about Jesus, she came up behind him in the crowd and touched his cloak, because she thought, “If I just touch his clothes, I will be healed.” Immediately her bleeding stopped and she felt in her body that she was freed from her suffering. At once Jesus realized that power had gone out from him. He turned around in the crowd and asked, “Who touched my clothes?” “You see the people crowding against you,” his disciples answered, “and yet you can ask, ‘Who touched me?’ ” But Jesus kept looking around to see who had done it. Then the woman, knowing what had happened to her, came and fell at his feet and, trembling with fear, told him the whole truth.  He said to her, “Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace and be freed from your suffering.” Mark 5: 24-29

                             

The woman did not give up. The crowd pressed around Jesus. Everyone was desperate for healing. Everyone wanted His attention. “The woman told all the truth. It is the will of Christ that his people should be comforted, and he has power to command comfort to troubled spirits. The more simply we depend on Him, and expect great things from him, the more we shall find in ourselves that he is become our salvation. Those who, by faith, are healed of their spiritual diseases, have reason to go in peace.” (Matthew Henry’s Concise Commentary on the Bible).

 She did not let her feelings of shame and condemnation stand in her way. All she wanted was to touch His clothes because she believed that He could heal her. And when she finally made it through the crowd stretching her arm out just enough to brush against his outer garment, she felt her healing and her freedom. She felt it. And so did He. He is so intimate and personal with each one of us. He feels it when we reach out to Him and we feel the chains of bondage break lose by His power. He knows when we are seeking Him. When we are desperate for healing we just have to keep reaching forward. Do not allow discouragement, fear, or uncertainty bind you from freedom. He is more than willing to give, if only we would believe and never give up pursing that which we love so dearly, Jesus Christ.