when I don't know what I am doing

I do not like to consider myself a quitter. But right now I'm really considering quitting and that makes me think I'm just one wonky decision away from being on God's bad side.

Don't we just think crazy when we aren't really thinking?  We are just reacting.  

What's wrong with me?  And maybe you?

I'm sitting here wondering if maybe I should have tried harder? Maybe I should stay longer?

Aren't you loyal?  I ask myself.

People who draw lines in the sand are not liked.  People who say I'm done and walk away are looked at by the ones who say Should have put me in their shoes, I would have done that differently as quitters.

I'm feeling like everything gentle and Christ-like in me is being strangled as I struggle to know what to do.

I've poured an endless amount of energy into a bottomless pit and is the Spirit keeping me in place for reasons unclear to me or am I a coward?  Or would it truthfully be very brave?

And I want to walk away gracefully.  I don't want to answer questions or give reasons.  Or make excuses for my behavior because telling the truth would be like pulling out my bow and firing parting shots.

I told my girls in this post  that when you are hurt and look back on it one day in the future, the only thing that will matter is how you acted.  Did you keep your dignity and self-respect and walk away or did you stake your reputation on validation?  Are you proud of yourself or does your soul burn with shame at the memory?

I find myself praying often that God will remove a certain weakness from me.  Paul prayed three times for a thorn in his flesh to be removed before he wrote that this handicap was a gift. That a messenger of Satan was sent to harass him.  But just as Jesus has the keys to hell he overrules Satan's trickery and in God's master plan we are made perfect - in our weakness.   God grants me this gift to keep me in constant touch with my limitations.

For when we rely on our strength we always end up brought to our knees.  But aren't our knees a great place to be when we fail? Just another twist God gives us in all His goodness.

A friend told me yesterday that when it is very hard, when it seems like I'm jumping off a bridge, that it is probably God.   And this is very hard, and I really have nothing much to fall back on except sheer obedience to God.  But oh, praise God, that is all I need.

So right now I'm pausing and listening for an at-ease command or my marching orders.

And God has promised me in His word that His grace is sufficient for me.  That when I am weak He is strong.  And I am so weak.  I don't want a self-help book to find my strengths.  Just let me be weak.  Let God be magnified in the sheer fact that I don't know what I am doing. 

when you are doing fine, my child

And sometimes dissatisfaction in your life is overwhelming.  Wondering if you are walking closely enough, doing enough, being enough.   Many of these feelings are truths of the Holy Spirit leading you to be the man Christ wants you to be.  Which is the man you are searching to be? Yes.

Which is why you confide in me that you are not feeling worthy, not feeling enough.

You've been a Christian for years now.  You may not remember it but when you were ten you marched yourself right up to me in Vacation Bible School and proclaimed you were born saved.  You had a huge grin on your little face.  You were proud, yes you were.

I prayed for you then.  I prayed your joy in Christ would not be lost as you grew.  I prayed it wouldn't take you long to realize no one is born saved.

And I don't think it did.

But what about that hot topic - joy and contentment?  You don't want these thoughts to steal your joy but what if they are meant to steal your contentment?

Because, my sweet, we can get too content.

Contentment can be a lovely place to be.  Books have always been written teaching us to be thankful in all circumstances and to be grateful even for our difficulties.

God's word breathes often of contentment.  Paul declared -

For I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content.  I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound.  In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need.  

Philippians 4:11-12

to the Thessalonians he urged -

give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus. 

1 Thessalonians 5:18

to the Philippians -

Rejoice in the Lord always.
 Philippians 4:4

But should we always be content as if it's a life rope thrown to a dying Christian?  I don't think so. All situations we find ourselves in are not of God's will.  Some are due to a sinful, fallen world.  But just as Christ looked into history and saw your face as He was being crucified proclaiming he's mine He gave Paul the powerful words to teach us to be peaceful in times of suffering and discontent.

But often discontent is a life-force given from God to reveal to us we need to make a change.

That we are falling short of our potential. We have gotten comfortable in shoes instead of bared our feet to be washed by the hands of Christ.  We are living this world instead of dying to Christ.

Thomas Edison said discontent is the first necessity of progress.  

And discontentment can be redemptive.

God never intended for the Israelites to be content in Egypt.

Men have pieced  together the writings of Paul's prison epistles and it is known he spent two years in Caesarea confined to Herod's palace.  Imprisoned there and unable to leave he appealed his case over and over to Caesar.

While there his joy in Christ led him to write the words Rejoice in the Lord always but he was not content to be undone and his work stalled in that place.

So you are feeling a little undone.  Hang onto your joy but ask for guidance and cry Help me, Lord more often than not.  

And again, if you could visually see Christ or audibly hear His voice He might just say to you - you are doing fine, my child. 

But not because you are walking closely enough, doing enough, or being enough.

Only because of  love.  

Because we will never be worthy.  But never stop trying.

Because feeling undone in this world is to see the face of Christ.

So be peaceful. 

But never be satisfied. 

when it's a bad day

It was a bad day yesterday, wasn't it darlin'?

For me, too.

I spent my day anxious, worried, concern - how many adjectives are there for a lack of faith?  Too many.

I went from the hours of a morning we will remember the rest of our lives into an afternoon that found me falling and failing.  Found me allowing hurt to seep in from someone's unkind words.   When I should have walked away found me lashing back. 

Found me judging, criticizing.  Found me breaking the golden rule. 

That simple little rule we learned in grammar school so we wouldn't steal pencils or break in line or tease the ones with glasses or gaps in their teeth or hair or skin the wrong color. 

The ones we think are less that make us feel more. Shamefully more.

Yeah, it was a bad day baby girl.

And now in the early morning hours of a new day I sit here and write, wondering how you are.

I've written my apology email to one I made feel unwanted and unwelcome and checked my phone to see if there was one for me.  I wonder why women hurt women.  I wonder why I play the game.

And I wonder how to help you.  You my sweet girl, still so young and unknowing.  You taking a giant step into the unknown and me still fledging stumbling around in it all these years later.

It's grace.  It's a prayer of mercy.  I'm praying God give you mercy and grant you all you need in strength and wisdom to not stumble but finish this race that is won with a lowly crawl.

Because that's where you find the answer sweet girl.  Low.  Face down arms outstretched at the foot of the cross.

Always low at the foot of the cross.

You are never "alone as a solitary bird on a roof."

                                                                 Psalm 102:7

 

 

   

when we remember to be free

We are no longer slaves to problems, but instead are freed by His promises.

 

 

For all the promises of God find their Yes in Him. That is why it is through Him that we utter our Amen to God for his glory. 2 Corinthians 1:20

 

 

And we no longer live on a teetering edge, bound by fear, desperate for hope. We live our lives on the solid Rock-

 

rooted and built up in Him and established in the faith, just as we were taught, abounding in thanksgiving. Colossians 2:7

 

 

when you feel yourself slipping

Her name was Patty and she was my best friend. 

She had a kind of clown trailer in her backyard that her daddy rode on for parades, and when she and I pleaded hard enough he let us play in it.  He wore a funny hat with tassels hanging and did charity work and Patty won beauty pageants and wore white go-go boots. 

 

She had hair one would describe as raven black.  She could twirl a baton and dance and had cases of trophies and tiaras and wore real diamond earrings and won a car before she could drive. 

 

Her teeth were perfect and she never wore braces.  

 

Her bedroom furniture was a matching suite and her room was pink with a double canopy bed and ruffled everywhere.  A large pink stuffed snake she had won wrapped itself around the post of her bed and I thought she was the luckiest girl in the world. 

 

She was kind and shy and didn't sit with the popular girls. 

I had mousy brown hair that hung straight and limp and a huge gap between my front teeth.  I wore glasses and Steve Finnegan always called me four eyes.  I wore whatever shoes Howards had the cheapest and one day when I was at school my mama covered the walls of my bedroom in green ships.

 

 I never owned a pair of boots until I was grown. I've still never owned a pair of white go-go boots-

 

But there's always tomorrow.

Patty and I were a pair.  Someone should have written a book about us.

And when we were nine years old she accepted Christ as her Savior and Lord.  It was bible school 1974 and she whispered in my ear that she was scared and took my hand and we walked that long aisle together, holding hands.  I did what she did.  I prayed after Brother Benton and answered the questions right and we were baptized together one right after the other in the same water.  She went first.

Watching her life it seems and always seemed obvious she knew what she was doing that summer of '74.  But I was just there to hold her hand.

And I never seemed to know what I was doing.  I rarely did the right thing because I never searched to do the right thing.  I just acted on feelings.  I followed desires instead of a heart that was flooded with the love of Jesus.

And it wasn't until thirteen years later that I surrendered a lost life to a One and Only Savior.

And I don't want to be a mere believer of Christ, as if I'm believing in a fairy tale or myth of old.  Showing no more proof of my love and loyalty than a babe nursing.  A babe who would take of any substance offered to remove pangs of hunger or fear or death.

 

I don't want to walk everyday surrounded by barren land while I live under the guise of grace.  For God has poured His salvation onto my life and I have lived in the sheer goodness of God.  Forgiving.  Saving me from judgment of death.  Eternal hell.  Loving me for who I am.  Not who I was or can be.  But for who I am now.
 

And does my life show proof of fruit sprouting up from life watered with the Word?  For my Heavenly Father does not miss anything and knows if I'm staying the course or if I'm spending each day with back turned to Him.  If I'm just living on His promises with no work in the field. 

 

And a life walking away from my Father instead of toward Him is a life of crucifying Him again and again and bringing shame to the only One that gives me life.  My life eternal.  My hope and my peace. The One who loves me with an uncomprehendable love. 

 

Do I think of these things each day?  Am I drowning in an ocean of selfishness? 

Don't let me slip into a world that is bored with you, Father.

Do I remember that Christ won't allow Himself to be crucified again and again by the ones who have seen and felt and tasted and know the truth?

Do I remember fields with nothing to harvest will be burned?

Father, don't let me be content in talking about what team won the game or new recipes or my problems or the world's problems.  Let me long for you and your Word.  Don't let me move or even drift. Take away my contentment and confidence and replace it with urgency of judgment and fear of you for myself and an unsaved world. Let me remember each day how much you love me.

Soften my heart.  Don't let me neglect.  Don't let me rest.
Amen.

sharing with http://jenniferdukeslee.com/tellhisstory-what-you-need-to-know-about-yourself-when-you-think-youre-a-loser/

when you don't know how to bury the man that gave you life

I look around my house and it is a mess.  The wedding boxes are all out and at their correct locations but the very small Christmas we had is scattered.  Laundry is spilling over.  The sink is full of dishes.  The counter is full of papers.  Trash and mess are on things under things and around things.

 

I don't care.

 

One of my first blog posts was an attempt at humor and what I would do if something tragic happened and my house was a mess.

 

And it has.

 

And I don't care.

 

My daddy's gone. 

 

The day before he died he told my sister he'd been dreading this day for so long.  Leaving Mama.  Dying hard.  He told her where the money was to buy the gun he wanted to give his grandsons.  He shook their hands and mumbled words full of love.

 

He high-fived our baby Beau. 

 

He told my girls to take care of their mama.  He told me Max was smart and not to let him waste it.

 

He listened with closed eyes as we told him we loved him.  We told him we adored him and were proud to be his daughters.  We told him he was the best daddy there ever was.

 

He waited on the daughter not there.  Her and her's.  His first-born trying to wrap up things that needed to be done while she hoped and prayed she'd see her daddy again.  He listened to her words over the phone and held on until Mama told him not to any longer.

 

My mama lay by my Daddy's side and whispered words we could not hear.  Sweet nothins' he'd probably call them.  Love words.  Good-bye words. But only for a little while words.

 

The strawberry shake he wanted sat melting until my sister picked it up, drank, and passed it around.  We all shared that shake as we sat by his side and touched whatever part of his body we could reach.

 

When I got in trouble at school about the Indian chief named Bowels he laughed. He had snakes in his belly button and warned me not to swallow watermelon seeds and pushed the mower up the hills I couldn't. 

 

When I cried about the orange house paint that wasn't and never would be he told me people don't always say what they mean and never mean everything they say.

 

I can't go to bed.  If I do I'll have to get up and go bury the man who gave life to me when he held my mama and loved her the way a man was made to love a woman. 

 

I just care about figuring out how to bury my daddy tomorrow.  How to hold up my mama when all I want to do is fall.  How to get my bluebird through her wedding day without her Pete-pa.

 

How to understand God's timing.  How to thank God enough for allowing my Daddy to go easily and quickly.  How to understand not understanding it all.

 

I thought I'd care if my house was a mess and people stopped by.

 

But I don't.

 

I really don't.

 

 

when it takes eight ingredients to love like God

We're lying in the bed and Maxster says this - hands flying around counting on his fingers -

Mommy, God told me how to love like him.

 

He did.  How?

 

It takes vese ingredients.  Big hope, little hope, big faif, little faif, big love, little love -

 

Wait.  If you're going to love like God why are you saying little love?  God has only big, big, love.

 

No, he has just big love.  But ven when you add a little love wiv it and mix it up it makes it even bigger.  Get it, Mommy?

 

I say Got it as I watch him stir and demonstrate with lots of hand gestures.

 

So, big love and little love, big hope, little hope, big faif, little faif, and ven iron and Jesus.  Ven you smash it all togever.  I'm not sure why the iron but I vink you pobably need it.

 

 

So, He supplies all the big love and all we need to add to it is just a little - just a little love.  World, all the work has been done, all we need is just a little love - just a little.  We can do that, can't we?

 

He called a little child to him, and placed the child among them.  And he said: “Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever takes the lowly position of this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.

Matthew 18:2-4

Because God Does Whatever He Pleases

continued from yesterday

I saw her shoes first.  She was walking towards me as I was looking down at my belly button swelling thru my shirt. 

Is Gregg with you?  She wants to see you both together.  How quickly can he get here?

The space between the skull and the developing brain is too large is about all I remember.  She spoke maybe centimeters?  and how many times they had measured and  tried to explain to me what I really wasn't even listening to. Was she trying to tell me that my baby's brain had stopped developing? 

It was Friday afternoon and we'd have to wait until Monday morning to see a specialist. There wasn't anything that could be done and we would just have to wait.

There wasn't anything that could be done.

I don't remember much about the weekend.  I remember we told everyone and asked begged for prayer.

I'm sure I cried and watched the clock and most certainly questioned.

And I'm sure I agreed to try to accept God's will within the very moments I was pleading for my baby.

But there is something I do remember.  I remember bargaining.  As if the almighty omnipotent God of all would need anything from me.  What did I have to give that would be worth His miracle of healing my baby? 

There is no bargaining with God.  For we don't have to.  We do not have to convince God that if He does for us we will do for Him.  The parameters have already been set - and not by you or me.  In His covenants God told us what He would do for us and then told us what we would do for Him.

Because by no comparison He is the greater of the two and His love is the stronger of the two.  All comes from the Father above. And the strength and power that we have been given has been granted unto us for the reason of love.

He loves us.

And within that love lies mercy. 

But I still remember bargaining.  And I remember exactly what I promised God for the healing of my son.

Make him whole, Lord.  Make him whole and I promise...

I don't know if within His great unlimited mercy and grace God changed His mind about Max but I do know God performed a miracle on my son.   When new tests were taken Monday morning the measurements were perfect.  His brain was exactly as it should be.  To be honest I'm not even exactly sure what happened, those days were an emotional fog.  But we left the doctor's office on Monday morning with all assurance that our baby was healthy and strong. 

For a very long time I chose to believe that Max was healed.  And I still do.  Miracle.  For without a doubt our God cannot be controlled or manipulated or even convinced,  but I do believe His heart is tender toward us. 

But it doesn't even really matter.  God placed before us the situation in such a way as though it would happen.  What was important was how we responded.  We prayed and the situation changed.  But none of God's plans changed.  If by our prayer God showed mercy and granted this blessing unto us all we did was catch up to His future.

That was not the only time we have been given what seems like more than we can bear to overcome. Within the last two weeks I found myself begging and asking for acceptance and even bargaining again for my oldest daughter. And we had to wait the weekend again, and then another week. And there seemed very little doubt what we would be told.

And once again mercy was granted and I choose to believe the gift of healing.  We believe we dodge bullets when we are really showered by grace.

Thank you, God, for your unchanging steadfastness and your love and mercy.  Thank you, God, for healing and for sickness and pain.  Grant to me the wisdom to recognize the power of you in all that is.
   

I'm not going to write here what I promised God on that weekend in the fall of 2006.  But I think of it often and try to act on it. 

Is it necessary?  No.  

But do I want to do it?  Yes.

Max's life had been planned. God knew we would pray and He would bless us for that prayer.

Our God is in heaven; he does whatever pleases him.  Psalm 115:3

Fragile

I thought it was morning and I had slept through the alarm and baby beau was here. 

When I heard the music of the phone it took me waking seconds to realize it was her song.  And there it was - in only the time it takes a heart to beat or a breath to leave - that knowledge.  That fear.  It comes so quick and it has come so often it surprises me that it startles anew each time.  But it does.  Startles me into awareness of fragile things. 

Her number was above 400 and I remain calm and we talk each other through a few moments while we wait for it to come down.
 

Can I tell you a secret? 

 

I used to practice staying calm.  When I was alone I would practice words out loud.  Rehearse the words that would assure her while I was near to a panic but practice out loud so she wouldn't see.

But I don't think it worked. 

I think she saw and sees through me.

It seems silly.  To practice staying calm. To sit in bed at night and practice words out loud because that was the only time quiet all day and I couldn't sleep anyway.

And I sit here tonight watching the clock tick time away.  Four more minutes before I can call again for the third fifteen minutes and see what sugar is.  Sugar.  What a strange word for what could take my child any day at any time.

 

Bring it down Jesus bring it down Jesus bring it down Jesus.

Two more minutes.

One more minute.

There's a little hole in the wall at the children's clinic.  Not very big, just big enough for a phone on a tiny shelf and a seat for mamas whose knees aren't holding.  He took me to it and told me to call her daddy so he could come.  And holding that phone, wetness between the receiver and my face, I said the word for the first time. 

And that began what was another first day of the rest of my life.

I just waited an extra four minutes.  Made myself keep typing while eyes kept shifting to that little clock at the corner of the screen and made myself believe she had fallen asleep and that is why her song wasn't playing.

And she had.  Number now 385 an hour later and why does it take so long to come down? 

I tell her I love her and she says I love you, Mama.  Instinct causes my other hand to reach for my phone as if I could touch her face through it.  Shouldn't a mama's touch heal?

I hang up and there it is.  That nagging little thought I fight to pray aside. 

 

Don't let it go too low Jesus don't let it go too low Jesus don't let it go too low Jesus.

Now I'll go to bed and resist the urge to call several more times and sleepless nights were easier when her head lay only feet from mine.

Thank you, Jesus, that she calls.  Thank you that she still needs me.  Thank you that I could call my mama right now if I needed to.  Thank you for each day of the last fourteen years and for the gift that is Delia.  I realize it.  I recognize it. And I thank you.

When The Only Reason Is Because My Father Says So

I told Sandra last night on the phone -

What if people think she doesn't love us - or worse - doesn't want us anymore?

What if they don't know that she stills comes over all the time?  That she still hugs me and tells me she loves me?  That she sends me messages like this one last night at 9:58 -

I love you mama, I'm going to sleep.  Goodnight!

What if they think that because I lie awake at night struggling so hard with accepting and the giving of a gift that she now belongs to others?

What if they don't know that she is her daddy.  Trusting, forgiving, accepting.  Wonderful.

What if they don't know that she believes in me, even when I have no idea what I'm doing and she gets caught in the crossfire.

And she listens and loves me through the phone and she tells me - No matter what, I stand with you.

But right now I have no idea where to stand.  I'm not all that great a choice right now.

And she loves me and baby girl loves me so why do I keep fighting tears?  Because now I know so much more than I knew Saturday morning.

That so many others don't love me.  Don't even like me.  Nauseating?

I hide in the office in the dark so if someone sees the light they won't know I'm in there.  I'm trying to figure out where I went so wrong and the Spirit tells me to be bold and I'm hiding and arguing that I think I'll be better off if I just always always stay so quiet.

And then I remember something I heard on tv just a few weeks ago.  I scribbled it down on white space so I could remember it later -

and now it's later.  It feels like forever since Saturday morning when I very gently hit the off button because I didn't know what to say, because I was at such a loss, because the pain was growing stronger by the second.  Because I was beginning to believe what she was saying.

So I search and I read what I wrote on the white space-

my father says i am.  i am capable, his child, accepted,  i may not feel like it, you may not see it but my father says i am

Then I go to bed without that little pill to stop my tears and tell myself that tomorrow I will just put one foot in front of the other.  And I know I'm wrong so often but I'll just keep putting that one foot in front of the other and reminding myself that the ones that love me are so much more than enough.

In Which A Stranger Brings Me Grace

Yes - each time I notice it when I don't hold it together.

I notice it in a messy home.

I notice it in a laundry room overflowing and a van needing to be cleaned out and plants dying on the front porch.

It's in a kitchen not stocked and a child not being schooled and a husband not being loved.

It's everywhere when I don't hold it together.

 Children fight instead of play and love and even the dog lies lonely in the corner and I lie awake in the dark and despair.

It's everywhere when I don't hold it together.  Cause when Mama doesn't function the world seems to stop spinning order and just slings chaos.  I see the way they look at one another and hear the whispers so why doesn't someone just come on out and say -

Mama's not holding it together.

It's falling apart.  That's what it is.  And it's everywhere when I have days that I feel shook up.  Like a syndrome that shatters.

Like a three day migraine but this is the fourth day of not holding it together and where is a migraine when you need one?  I could count it as excuse but excuse is only that I'm refusing grace and accepting despair tied in a knotted black ribbon.

I'm late for the Pooh movie - cause I forgot the Pooh movie - the only one I wanted to see in the summer showings. When I come in Sandra has bought my tickets and saved my seats and listens when I complain before I ever even say hello.  Maybe I never said hello?

And then a stranger shows me grace and I don't even think she knew it or intended it but just like I used the buttons on his shirt for an impromtu math lesson my gentle Father uses this stranger to remind me that He catches every fall - every one.

I place my order in the drive-thru and she tells me $9.79 and I have a five and three ones and a dollar in change.  And no card.  I'm looking for my card and Izzy's digging for change and I'm looking for my card - the one I still can't find - and I'm remembering that I read somewhere, can't remember where, that only amateurs rush.  I remember hating that when I read it and I'm looking and thinking only amateurs rush when she rolls her eyes and asks me

Is that nine dollars?

Yes, but I'm trying to find my card.

Here. Just take it. Nine's fine.

There was no smile from her, no poor lady she's having a really bad day look on her face. No sympathy - just move the line along.

And I take the bag and wonder if I'll make it home before I cry cause my darlins' will think there's something wrong and there is something wrong but not what they'll think.

Cause now it's shame.  Because it is grace that is everywhere and my Father has a way out all around me and just like Elijah when touched by an angel God shows me that he indeed does care about my struggles and loves me deeply.  He loves me and He is saying she's having a bad day and He whispers a sweet love story to me.

And I listen.  And I ask for courage and faith.  And maybe just a little bit of that sweet life in the hundred acre woods?

And I think I heard my Father say -

Soon, it's coming soon, my child.

Love in every Language

Hey, It's Shelby! Never done this before but I am gonna give it a try!

Love

Amor

El amor

Lubov'

       Of course we all know the first word, but do you recognize any of the others? These are all words for "love" in Portuguese, Spanish, and Russian! This one word is known all over the world, some choose to show it while others don't.

Surely your goodness and unfailing love will pursue me all the days of my life...

Psalm 23:6

Our God loves with a love that we will never comprehend. His love is remarkable and unfailing! I fail God more times in a day than I can count, but even so He never stops loving me. His love reaches to every corner of the world, no one goes without His Love but many never realize they are loved by Him.

Is it not our job to shine His light and spread His love? We all have our differences, none of us are the same but we are supposed to "love our neighbor as we love ourselves..." Leviticus 19:18

In our thinking, acting, and feeling toward other people and God must be done in Love, any of these not done in Love is sin. Even when God punishes us it is done in love.

It breaks my heart knowing that some people will never know God's love, some people will go their entire lives thinking that the world has abandoned them and cares nothing for them. As Christians it is our job to love, we are capable to love because we are filled with God's love!

I will give you a new heart, and I will put a new spirit in you. I will take out your stony, stubborn heart and give you a tender, responsive heart. Ezekiel 36:26

Some people in our lives will be a little difficult to love, I know because I have dealt with it. We are able to push aside our feelings and shine His light and love if we only let Him take control of our situations. He wants to be in the center of our lives, He wants to fill us with a new heart that is capable to overcome our feelings and love with a love like His.

Have you ever sat and looked at young children playing with each other and wonder how they can get along with kids of all shapes, colors, and sizes? It is because they have not yet been shown the hatred that can fill our hearts. Children love without thinking, how amazing would that be? To love without thinking of their religion, ethnicity, family etc.

This week is VBS at our church! I love this week, it is filled with excitement and joy. Knowing that there are children all over our church that come from different kinds of backgrounds and homes but learning about ONE thing! Our God and His amazing POWER! Adults and youth are taking time out of their week to be there and show God's love to these children. Children that they have never met and may never seen again.

We need to walk in our daily lives shining HIS LOVE, not caring about what other people think, only what our heavenly Father thinks! Taking time out of our day to reach out to other people who may just need a little love, God's kind of love.

Christians from all over in Portugal, Spain, Russia, etc all worship ONE GOD, the God who loves us all unconditionally without fail. Even though we are all different we all need to strive for one thing! Loving others and showing what God can do for you! How God can change the lives of others through you, and just think that all of this can happen when you let God pour His love into you!

How Great is our God ( world edition )

My Prayers Answered, the Final Gift of Four

You know when you want to climb mountains and shout from 'em?  When you feel like you should take your shoes off because the ground beneath feels holy?   When it's so sweet it feels like a dream but it's better because it's the wonderful wonder of reality?

And what is real in all of life is what you know in moments like these.

The beautiful gift of four. One and then another and then another and then another. And all so undeserved.

But isn't each gift?

And I've messed up so many things and done so many things wrong.

And isn't that why this is the biggest wonder of all?

That in spite of me I would joy in the grace that is the joy of a lifetime in the lives of each of my children.

Would it sound silly to say that it was the biggest smile I've ever seen on his face?  Because it was, you know?  The biggest smile.  Spring of 2012.  February 26.

Bigger than when he took that first step and we all had silly goofy grins of pride on our face - and he knew it was him.  Bigger than the time when Gideon coming was only one day away - or no days away.  Bigger than seeing the footprints Santa left behind or getting ten more minutes before bed or me saying yes to the second oatmeal pie.

He couldn't stop smiling.

And he said he felt funny inside and touched his stomach.  Smiling.

He ran to me, Mommy, I said my payers by mysel tonight.

Then again, ten minutes later.  He jumps up beside me.

Mommy, I asked Jesus to live in my heart.  I asked Jesus to make me a Chistian.  I told Him I love him best.

I mute the TV and pull him to my lap and he feels greater because he is and I know because of the beautiful gift of three before.  

And there is the smile.  He was almost shining and maybe he was?  That smile was large and he twinkled and I saw it.  Jesus in my son.

He can't answer all the questions correctly.  He's only five.  He doesn't completely understand the devil.  He only partly understands sin.  He doesn't understand death or hell.  There will have to be more later -

But he does understand the cross. 

Do you believe Jesus died on the cross?

Yeah, so I don't have to.

What happened after He died?

He wose.

When?

Thee days later.

Where is Jesus now?

And this is the part.  If I forget it all this is the part I want to remember.  This is the glorious part that becomes my greatest gift - my final gift of four answered prayers.

The smile is still there.  I silently think his cheeks must be hurting.

In me, Mommy.

I hug him tight.  Yeah.  But where does Jesus live now, after he rose?

And he looks at me, smiling.  He stares at me as if I am the one who doesn't understand.

He lifts his hand and points one little finger.  Right at the middle of his heart.

In meeeee, Mommy. 

And he laughs as if to say, silly mommy.

But who possibly loves more on this earth than a mother?  Who else understands the things they don't understand themselves?  Who else sees the possibilities of their future more than a mother?  Who more than a mother hurts more when they hurt?

Who else worries more that they might turn away?

And isn't a mother pregnant for a lifetime?

And when their flutters turned to kicks that turned to pain that you knew of but had no idea of, each time forgotten fresh, in each blessing turn of gift life you whisper and plead and need to know they will be safe in the life past this one.  That He will grant what you will never be able to.  That He will give the real life.

This you pray.  Even when they only flutter. 

And here I witnessed the last, as I witnessed the three before. 

The first who wanted to lie with me in the dark and whisper it soft.  As if it was so beautiful the moment might break.  Gentle with small hand in mine and a great confidence.  And beautiful it was.  And my heart swam for in this moment I realized the greatest gift of grace is the gift of life to her.

The second who didn't understand why she had to ask for what she knew was already there.  Hadn't He always been there?  She couldn't remember Him not.  He could have easily been her first word.  The help of a dear pastor to fill in her blanks.  Her taking my hand and stepping out.

The third with the crowd in the living room.  Family all around.  Rare moments of all together and she pulls me to her room.  She cannot wait.  She wants to do it now.  And in the quiet of a room, shared wall with love loud seeping in, she bows and prays.

And now this fourth gift.  He so unexpected, who I love wild and strong and in that way a mama loves only a son, he takes a knee alone.  Warrior.  Joining an army of the King.  Running to me to tell and feeling funny inside and smiling huge on the outside.

What is such grace as this my Father grants?  Proof that His love is not only greater than my sins but called to these four in spite of me.  Where I failed He triumphed and loved more and spoke softer but louder and called deeper and gave all to the ones that I would give all to

but the thing I cannot give that is His alone is the only gift there is.

So My Thanksgiving Has Come and Gone

Thanksgiving found me browsing my blog and reliving my year.

What a serious year. 

Where was my humor and there is so much sadness on the lines and between the lines.

My mind seperates my years into two sides of memories.

Good years and bad years.

Hurt filled painful years like 1983, 1987, 1994, and 2000. 

There was 2004 and 2005. 

Years filled with a loss and change that made me feel like I was weighted and drowning and would never breathe peace again.

Then 2011.

New Year's Eve began with a tornado that brought wind and rain and silence that maybe whispered a sign of what was to come? 

But does our guard and prayers for strength in the good times for the bad times ever really guard us?

Does our faith and our trust really wrap us in prepared hearts and minds?

And I read yes in every post of remembrance. 

And in the pain of 2005 we walked a hard path into what was meant to be in 2011.  A place of purpose and questions answered when I wasn't sure that I would ever know why was that? 

And now I see.

And an unexpected day that turned this year upside down saved my life and can I ever question goodness and am I guarded and wrapped in grace?

Yes my mind shouts joy.

And those bad years shelve themselves with the good years

 for purpose and reason see plainly in time.

Family leaned in closer and loved harder.  Some friends stuck by me in this year of a change in me and some have grown quiet. 

A little more grace I needed as I struggled to make sense of hard times.  As I tried to comfort my first girl and her missing her soldier, my middle girl and her pain, and my baby girl and her fears.  As I tried to support my love who was making life changing decisions.  As I searched out

what my Father gives in unending gifts that may unwrap slowly.

So my Thanksgiving has come and gone. 

And my giving of thanks stays.

Thank you, Father, for 2011.  Help me place it, and the others, where they truly belong.