Terms and Conditions

   I was casually reading my Facebook feed a few days ago and ran across a post from a lady that said "I just want everyone to know that I am not a Christian because I take anti-depressants".  She went on to say that she had been informed of this by someone in her church.  In. Her. Church.
   When I read or hear of stories like these, I feel like I have been punched in the heart.  Having carried the weight of depression myself (medicated and non medicated), I felt the sting of those words. I wanted to find these women, read one of them the riot act, and wrap my arms around the other one.  However, since rioting is not productive, I messaged the writer of the post to encourage her.
   "People speak freely and ignorantly into situations that they know nothing about.  I have been guilty myself. Your relationship with God is between you and Him. Taking a medication does not save you....neither does it keep you from being saved.  Salvation is a gift for ALL who believe.  Beyond that....how we choose to walk out our faith is a matter of personal choice. Dunked or sprinkled.  Hymns or Praise bands.  No make up or all decked out.  It all comes down to the cross."
   When did our salvation become dependent on special terms and conditions?  If that were the case, then does it mean that all unmedicated  people are automatically saved? What about those who are medicating for cancer? Diabetes? High cholesterol?  It sounds silly to me.  From everything I have read in the Bible, I have come to understand that salvation is a gift from God. Free for the accepting.  For all who believe.  There are no prerequisites.  "All" means all......
   .........and thank God that  "all" includes me. Imperfect. Damaged. Just as I am. ......Me.
 
   
 

Chew on this.....

  Can anyone relate to this picture besides me?  You know....where a great idea comes into reality and you feel like you are choking on it??  This is me today.  Trying to get it all done and still be able to breathe.  Praying that the road will become less bumpy along the way. Wondering how this is going to be used in the story of my life. Believing that God is still leading and directing even when I feel discouraged.

What was I thinking?

  I know I can't be the only one who has had this moment.  The "what in the world was I thinking?" moment.  I have had many of those moments over the past week. You see, a few months ago I had the bright idea that I would attend college.  It looked good on paper. It made sense in my head. The registration process was fairly simple, and the financial aid eligibility was appealing.  I was gung-ho.....until Monday.....when I actually had to walk through the doors as a first time college student 26 years late for her first class.
   That first class was not too overwhelming, and I confidently thought "I can do this". The second class left me feeling intimidated, the third class - bewildered, and my fourth class (all online) reactivated my previously stabilized heart palpitations (no joke).  I am unquestionably out of my comfort zone as I try to recall grammar rules that I had obviously thrown out of my head (you know...you've read my stuff), try to remember why in the name of everything sane do letters have anything to do with math, and try to navigate online technology that was unheard of when I was in high school.  I mean....during my senior year we got our school's first computers with DOS programming. That was the latest and greatest at the time. Seriously.
   I thought college would be challenging, but  I had mistakenly underestimated the workload. For years my two most time consuming pastimes have been thinking and writing. However, now I have to reign in all of those rabbit trails that scamper through my brain and actually produce stuff in type that makes sense to professors who don't share my sense of humor or care for my whole "writing like I think/speak" style. I have to be all "academic" in my writing now....which makes that little flappy thing in the back of my throat kinda twitch a little.... along with my left eye.
   Every day since classes started, I have wanted to give up (heck, I have wanted to throw up).  I wanted to take back all of the papers I signed and the books that I purchased.  I am praying that week number 2 goes better. I am trusting that God sees the bigger picture and already knows how these new challenges will benefit me and prepare me for things to come.  Pray for me.  Seriously.

Overwhelmed

  This depicts how I feel. Simply put, I feel overwhelmed. There are so many things swirling around at the moment that I just keep anticipating the crash of the wave swallowing me alive. 
   I know I am not the only one who has moments like this. We all have those times when life's circumstances seem to take over. Financial crisis. Family obligations. Relationship rifts. Health nosedives. The unexpected. These can instantly take our breath away and leave us reeling from the physical, emotional, or spiritual impact as we stagger around trying to find stable ground again.
   I keep hearing an old, but comforting tune running through my head. As I started to recall the lyrics, the song became even more soothing to my soul.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YjhW8_KgcnM

"When my heart is overwhelmed
  Hear my cry, give heed to my prayer
  When my eyes are dimmed with tears
  O, Father, make them clear
  From the ends of all the earth
  When my heart is fainting
  Let me know that You have heard
  Lead me into safety
  And lead me to the Rock
  The Rock that's higher
  Lead me to the Rock
  That's higher than I"

Psalm 61:1-2

What I Think

 This is my brain. Well, really it is a good illustration of my brain. A lot of stuff goes on in there. All the time. I think about everything. EV-ER-Y-THING.    Sometimes my brain feels overloaded. Like there are too many tabs open at once. Other times my brain feels constipated. Like if I can't get some of the stuff out, my head will explode.
  I am an introverted person. If you don't know me well, you probably wouldn't think so. I love people and conversing, but the talking drains my energy.
  Enter writing. This is my outlet. My way to clear space in my head .....so I can think about more stuff. I write lists, poems, journals, stories, blogs, chapters, and songs. Writing can be a scary thing for me. Letting someone read what I have written is scarier yet. Suddenly the thoughts and feelings of what goes on inside me are out there. On paper. And while spoken words can be forgotten.....written words are always there. They can be ignored, challenged, thrown up in your face, or used against you.......
   ..So I try to choose my words carefully. Most of the time. I don't always get it right, but I usually get it real. Then I second guess my words. Which leads to more thinking.
   Lately I have had a lot of stuff inside of my head. Stuff I don't want to write. Stuff that some people may not understand. Stuff that doesn't come with a happy ending. Real stuff.
   After watching what I thought was going to be a "feel good" movie about a man's life and being impacted more than I had expected, I keep having a sense of urgency to write. To get it out. To share the triumphs and the heartbreak. The struggles and the turning points as they both come.
   I told someone the other day that I fantasize about locking myself away in a cabin for several days, taking the longest uninterrupted nap ever, and then writing until I can't see straight.....Then afterwards... praying about the where, when, how, and what to share in hopes that my story, my struggles, and my faith can encourage someone else along the way.

Wasted

   There's this boy that I love. He consumes my thoughts and invades my dreams. He is my son.
  We don't see eye to eye on a lot of things. He is in full pursuit of whatever feels right to him at that particular moment, while I fear for his future.  It has been a long, painful journey during which I have poured out my heart, my soul, my tears, my prayers, and countless hours of my time trying to remedy the situation.
   The problem is that I am the only one in this duo who thinks there is a need for a remedy, so most days it feels like wasted effort.  Wasted tears. Wasted meetings. Wasted time. Wasted words.
   I know that God has the ultimate say, but I know how I want it to unfold. I see the warning signs. I obsess over the "what ifs". I ask for some reprieve. I think about Jesus shedding tears. Sweating blood. Wasting his very life away. So I take a deep breath and quietly whisper.... "There is this boy that I love, and I know You love him too......"

Progress and Set Backs

   This is a photo of the "parting gifts" I came home with after a stay at the hospital in September. Missing from the picture is yet one more bottle of a narcotic pain reliever that I chose not to fill because my body was already overloaded with medications.
   I remember my first follow up appointment with my new PCP. He wasn't impressed with my questions about what I could do to help my body recover in order to reduce or eliminate the need for all of these medications. He looked at my lab results and hospital discharge summary and stated that it didn't matter what I did..... I was going to be on these medications indefinitely.
  Two weeks later I had to return to him due to my IV site becoming infected and extremely painful (the reason for the prescribed narcotic). While there, he looked over an ultrasound report and told me there were some cancer indicators (cue the anxiety attacks) and that I needed to have a biopsy done. After another two weeks and another PCP visit, my lab numbers were showing significant improvement and my biopsy had been cancelled.
  At the end of November I was finally able to see a specialist who did further testing and finally put a name to the craziness that has been going on in my body. Hashimotos Disease on top of Type 2 Diabetes. In the meantime, I have completely changed the when, how, and what goes into my mouth. I am not going to pretend that it has been an easy thing. EVERYTHING had to change.

  I seemed to be making good progress until December 18 when out of nowhere I became light headed and really off balance to the point of falling on my rear in my kitchen. The first thing I did was check my vitals and found everything was normal except an elevated blood pressure. I played it off to working extra hours and pushed onward.....until three days later I almost dropped at my piano while leading worship at church. By that evening, I was laying in the ER with a blood pressure that was as high as 203/118. After hours of tests, IV fluids, and observation, I was sent home with no conclusive explanation. The next day my blood pressure readings were normal again and have remained so without changing any medications.
  Today I had an appointment to see the specialist who offered some knowledge and understanding about what has been going on in my body. For the first time in 4 months my thyroid levels are normal. NORMAL. The medications that my PCP said I would always be on will make my levels too low if I continue to take them, so I am being weaned off of all but 2 of the medications, and one of those is being cut in half......for now.
   I am still at the beginning of this journey. There have been lots of complications and set backs, but for today, I am thanking God for progress and holding on to hope for continued improvement.

Slow Fade

  We all have our core values. The standard to which we hold everything up to. We have our lists of what we would never choose to do. We look at those around us who don't share our values and vow to never become like that. Then life happens.
  It starts with a thought. A lapse of self control. A second look. A slip of the tongue. A surrender to the pressure. It could be a judgmental opinion. An outburst of anger. A curiosity. An unkind word. One hit on a bottle. We tell ourselves that it won't happen again, but find that the next time it becomes a little easier. Then it becomes habitual.
 We begin to reason. Justify. Minimize. Until eventually, if we don't make the conscious effort to regroup, we lose sight of our original values, and in the process we lose sight of our own value. We get caught up in the slow fade. We look in the mirror and think again about those core values, but we no longer recognize the person staring back at us.
  We become disappointed. Disillusioned. Miserable. We need to be reminded of who we are in Christ. Not to condemn us, but to draw us back to the truth. We can then be in a place of conviction. Not to make us feel guilty, but to motivate us to re-examine our values because of our value. As we lean on His grace and mercy we can allow Him to guide us back to His heart. Right where we have wanted to be all along.

Providence

 As a little boy he lived on a farm in a simple house with no frills. Water was carried in from a pump. The "bathroom" was only accessible by walking across the yard.  A pot belly stove provided heat and a cooking surface.
  His mama was preparing a meal when she noticed the fire had died down. She grabbed a can of kerosene and splashed some onto the coals. The fire leaped to life and followed the stream of kerosene back up to the can which exploded. That little boy's life was altered in a split second as his younger brother died in the house. His mama succumbed to the infection from her painful burns weeks later. His infant brother, no longer able to nurse, died when he was switched to cow's milk.
  He was sent to live with his grandmother and was raised with his uncles. They became more like brothers. His father was able to find new love, remarried,  and moved on.....without him.

  She was conceived out of wedlock which was unacceptable and shameful during that period of time. To cover her tracks, her mother left her with a neighbor lady to be raised from infancy on. She would visit her from time to time, but when asked about whose beautiful little girl she had with her, she would say she was that girl those folks down the road were raising. Her mother found love, married, and moved on....

  While fishing with his uncles one afternoon, he noticed a long legged girl running barefoot through the field near the stream. He recognized her as that girl the neighbors were raising. He looked at his uncles and said "See that girl there? I'm gonna marry her one day."  Throughout the remainder of their childhood they shared the same fields, the same stream, the same school. When they became older they shared a love, they married, and moved on ......to make a family of their own.

  Had they never encountered those terrible childhood tragedies,  they may have never even met, but God had a plan for their lives....a plan that two generations later included.....me.

What I like about you.....

I have been working like a maniac over the past several days, so when I sat down to start writing this evening I looked at my 9 year old daughter and asked what I should write about. She replied "You should write about how much you love me."  We started discussing that topic and came up with 10 things that we like about each other or that we both like in general. Her list is first:

What I love about you (and me)

1. How we have fun together
2. How we both like kiwi
3. We both like the Steelers
4. Our favorite puppet from kid's church is Joe Crank (he's been in a bad mood for 20 years).
5. We both like to cuddle up with Dexter (the wiener dog).
6. We both like green.
7. We have a lot in common.
8. We were both born on the 11th day of our birth months (which both start with "J").
9. That you watch Cupcake Wars with me.
10. You let me wear your high heels to play

Now for my turn:  I love you because.....

1. When you are sleepy....you hold my hand (you also hold my hand underneath of the bathroom stalls)
2. You make me laugh
3. You give the best kisses
4. Even when we have spent the entire day together....you tell me that you missed me.
5. You still love princesses and believe in fairy tales
6. Even when you are scared or frustrated you try and try again
7. You play "Go Fish" with the dogs
8. You insist that you will still be sneaking into my bed when you are thirty and still living at home
9. You write sweet notes and draw pictures for the people you admire
10. You were an unexpected surprise and wriggled your way into my heart

Binding

 

   Every week when I sit down to write, I contemplate what I should write about. I try to think of happy little nuggets that will bring smiles to every reader's face. I always end up coming back to simply writing the real deal....whatever I may be going through at that moment. And sometimes ....it ain't pretty.
  Last week I unintentionally hit a nerve with lots of folks when I wrote about feeling like I have failed my kids. I wasn't looking for pity or trying to drum up support. I was just putting my thoughts out there about what was going on in the "real" part of my life. You know, the part that not everyone sees when they look at me. The part that struggles. The part that battles and yes, sometimes gives in to discouraging thoughts. The part of me that is flawed. Human. Still in process of being transformed. The part of me that mirrors the thoughts that a lot of you out there have concerning our want to fix everything... and being frustrated when we can't just wave the magic wand and have life go the way we think it should.
  I was overwhelmed at the responses I received. My phone, email, text messages, and Facebook feed literally blew up. I couldn't keep up with it all, and it took me a few days to catch up. The thing that amazed me the most was the encouragement that poured out like a soothing ointment. People who I have never even met wrote to me about their own journeys with parenthood. We swapped horror stories. Then we swapped scriptures. Encouraging each other to keep on keeping on. Pledging to hold each other up when one of us feels like we can't take another step. Binding up those places that need supported while waiting for God to move. Being the body of Christ in loving action.
  To every one of you who spoke life over me and reminded me what the truth is...... Thanks. I needed that.
 

Did I Miss Something?

   

   Ever since I was a little girl I couldn't wait to grow up, get married, and become a mom. I would imagine my home.... full of babies and toddlers with dirty diapers and sticky hands, the smell of cookies baking, laundry drying in the breezy sunshine, and smiles all around. They would be the loves of my life, and I would be the center of their world.
   In my early 20's it became quickly apparent that something was wrong with me and I was unable to get pregnant. I shoved my thoughts and feelings about the situation way down deep and pretended like I was fine with it. But I wasn't.
    I mean... I literally had dreams of making my pregnancy announcement to family and friends. I dreamed about feeling the symptoms of pregnancy. I dreamed about giving birth. I dreamed about my future babies and what they would look like. But I would always wake up empty handed.
    When the opportunity to foster and adopt came to my attention, I was all for it. Every decision I made hinged on how it could impact my chance to be a mom. I turned down jobs that would keep me from being home in the evenings, searched for a house that would pass inspection and hold lots of kids, and spent hours scouring information about available children. After years of going through painful medical tests, drugs, financial struggles, disappointment, orientation, background checks, inspections, and then several failed adoptions, we were finally able to adopt.
    I anticipated that I would bond with my children and that they would love me as much as I love them. I thought that giving my time, showing them love, making them feel safe, and bringing God into their lives would be enough to erase the pain of their pasts. But it hasn't been.
   They don't rise up and call me blessed......it's more along the lines of "stupid", "paranoid", and other words that I don't want to type. I kick myself every day for not being enough. For being incapable of meeting their needs. For not being able to fix their broken places. For not being able to create an environment that they don't want to leave.
    I have listened to (and read on social media) people's comments regarding my lack of parental ability or about me not really wanting my children. I have stumbled upon messages to my son about how "God needs to work in your mom's life"....... and I find myself thinking that maybe I have  missed something.
   Maybe if I prayed more? Maybe if money wasn't so tight? Maybe if I kept the "I hate you"s and the "you're not my real mom"s from penetrating my soul? Maybe if I could meet hostility and abuse with grace? Maybe if I was more like a fairy godmother and less like a correctional officer? Maybe if relationship wasn't as important to me as limitless boundaries are to them?
   All I know is that for quite some time now.......I feel as though I have failed.

Looking forward

  In mid September our band had a photo session. This is one of the results. I remember being so sick that I sat down between every shot.... on that couch, on a stump, on the ground. When I look at this picture I can't help but think about the storm that was brewing, and my health crisis was just the beginning.
  My brother in law (far right) received a phone call 2 weeks after this photo that his father was heading for the ER. An infection in his leg quickly took over and he was gone. Just like that. Two days later my husband (far left) got the 2 AM phone call that his uncle had lost his battle with cancer. The couple (standing in the back) had been helping a young woman who was in addiction recovery when she abruptly disappeared leaving her 2 children with them and then tried to press kidnapping charges weeks later. My own father had a sudden urgent health issue and was hospitalized, and today my husband's mom had a quadruple bypass surgery.
  I don't know why all of this hit at once, but I do know that God was in the midst of it all. We stuck together, supporting each other, praying for each other, hanging out in hospital rooms, attending funerals, listening to each other, encouraging each other, and tending to each other's practical needs. You see we are not just a music group.....we are friends. We are family. And we are looking forward to walking together wherever God opens the doors to touch others with His love.

Greater

  When I became ill in August, the first words I heard out of my dad's mouth was "Greater is He that is in you.....". Two weeks later when I told Mom and Dad that Dr. Doom had mentioned the "C" word, Dad repeated those words to me. Matter of fact. No doubt.
  Four days ago Dad was helping my brother install a basement door when he suddenly collapsed. My brother who also is an EMT called 911. Dad insisted that he was fine and was just tired. He was planning on driving home and taking a nap, but when the EMTs helped him to his feet he staggered backwards and collapsed again. When I got the call, my heart jumped and I burst into tears. I shouted out instructions to kids and grabbed my keys.
   When I arrived at the hospital, Dad was being tended to in the hallway due to lack of rooms. The doctor came and talked with him and with my brother to determine what tests they should run. Heart. Brain. Lung. Blood. Mom, Bill, and I were listening and trying to process all of the possibilities when Dad spoke up and said "Greater is He who is in me".
   Over the next 48 hours lots of tests were run. A blood clot in his lung was discovered. Every time he was rolled out for another test we heard "Greater is He..." I spent both nights at the hospital with him and lost count of how many times I heard him say those words. His heart, brain, arteries, and labs all checked out and he was released with blood thinners and a sprained knee from when he fell.
   When he got into the car with Mom he smiled and said "Hey, there's my favorite song". Playing on the radio was the song "Greater" by Mercy Me. "Greater is the One living inside of me than he who is living in the world."

Check out the song...   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GXI0B4iMLuU

We have this hope....

 

 I am traveling home from New Jersey after attending my second funeral in 4 days time.  The first one was for the beloved father of my dear friend who also happens to be my brother in law. It was my first experience of a Catholic service, and it was a beautiful, ceremonial tribute to the life and legacy of a wonderful man.
  The service today was for my husband's uncle. Also a beloved husband, father, and grandfather. The service was simple and emotional as daughter and granddaughter spoke through tears about their great love for this man.
   Both services paved the way for families to come together. Brothers and sisters, cousins, aunts, uncles, and grandchildren.....some who haven't seen each other for years.  Even though life has taken these families in many separate directions, they dropped everything to come together. To be together. Any differences were left at the door and exchanged for fond memories.
  Both services spoke of hope. Hope that family bonds are strong no matter what life throws at them. Hope that our family members have merely stepped out of this world into heaven. Hope that because of the grace of a mighty Savior we have the opportunity to see them again.

Dr. Doom

  The doctor (actually CRNP) who has been following me since the onset of my health crisis is an interesting fellow. And by interesting...I mean he is not the most bubbly optimistic person I have ever met. Nope, he is quite the opposite. I refer to him as "Dr. Doom".
  On my first visit to him, I had just been discharged from the hospital. I wasn't feeling too bad...in fact, I was surprised that I had been kept overnight for observation because my only sensory symptom at the time was a rapid heart rate which I thought was anxiety.
  As he assessed me I told him that I wanted to figure out how to change my lifestyle so I won't have to be dependent on medications. "Oh, you are definitely going to be on medications for the rest of your life" was his candid reply. Then he stated that I should be on insulin and made no bones about how "unhealthy" I was. At my very vocal resistance, he settled with doubling my blood sugar medication and kept me on the other 3 that I had left the hospital with. He ordered an ultrasound on my thyroid and sent me on my way.
  Within a few days, I began to experience cold symptoms including a fever, my period started, and I developed an infection in my arm from the IV site. Another trip to Dr. Doom added an antibiotic, steroid, and narcotic pain reliever to the regimen. He informed me that the ultrasound showed a cancer (yes, he said the "C" word) indicator and ordered a biopsy. My body was starting to react to all of the medications in a not so good way. I was weak, dizzy, nauseated, and couldn't walk across a room without nearly passing out. My heart would pound so loud I could hear it in my ears and see my chest pulse. My arm hurt so bad that it woke me up at night. I was sicker than I have ever been in my life, and now, I was worried......
   I had already been making MAJOR changes in the when, how, and what I was eating. I was monitoring my blood sugar and my vitals, and being compliant with the medications. I was praying like crazy. It took about 3 weeks before I finally stared seeing normal numbers. Then my energy levels began to return and last longer each day. I dropped almost 20 lbs over the course of 4 weeks. Then came the call from the radiologist who was to perform my biopsy...... I didn't need it.... There was no reason for him to do it. (Huge sigh of relief).
   I visited Dr. Doom a few days ago....proud of my progress. He looked over my labs and informed me that I am still diabetic (my blood sugar was 128....down from 391). My A1C which gives a picture of blood sugar levels over a 3 month span (normal is around 5) had dropped from 9.5 to 7.7 in 30 days time! My weight had dropped again to the lowest it has been in 23 years. Dr. Doom finally admitted that I had been making some good strides, but I could still hear the cynicism  in his tone.
  I am determined to prove him wrong. I am continuing with the changes and am down from 7 medications to 3. I am seeing normal blood sugar levels (without the insulin he was insisting upon) ..and every time I see those numbers, I think to myself..... "My hope is NOT in medical opinion.....My hope is in the One who made me.......Take that, Dr. Doom!!!!"

Grateful

Since my health took a nose dive at the end of August I have struggled some days with the smallest of tasks. There have been days that I could barely get from the bed to the couch. When I could muster up the energy to take a shower, I did it sitting down. I had to rest between getting dressed and drying my hair. Makeup was too exhausting. Walking across the room made me sweaty and shaky. The sound of my heart pounding in my chest kept me awake at night.
  After being on a heavy duty medication regimen for 3 weeks, I am finally beginning to see some improvement. Numbers for vital signs and blood counts are shifting closer to normal. Energy is coming back in short doses. I am feeling grateful for little things that I usually didn't give thought to.....like being able to walk across the room without fainting, run the vacuum, make my bed, take my kids to school, pick up groceries, and put laundry away.
   I have been blessed over and over again by my parents and other family member as well as friends who have jumped in to help me. I have had laundry washed, rooms cleaned, kids taken to appointments, food brought by, and dishes cleaned up. I have had accommodations made for me. I have had people call me, text me, and visit me. I am overwhelmed at the prayers and words of encouragement that have been spoken to me and for me. My kids have even stepped up at times to help with cleaning, cooking, and laundry.
   I am so very grateful for every kind gesture, every positive word, and every beautiful person that I have encountered over the past month. I am grateful for every minute that I don't feel sick.....for every hour that I don't crash and have to nap....for every work shift that I am able to complete.....for every task that I have the energy to tackle.....and for the hope that all of this is temporary.

Mean

 This morning started off like every other morning.... fighting with my daughter to get her to get ready for school. I was still irritated from last night due to kids not respecting boundaries or following house rules. I would like to tell you that I "Let it Go" and handled everything in a gracious and loving way, but I would be lying.
   I blew it. Again......
  My husband told me flat out that I was being mean. I wish I could say he was wrong, but he is right. I have allowed daily stresses with challenging children to suck the kindness right out of me. I see every negative thing while the positives have to be pointed out.
  I want to blame it on the kids. I mean....if they would just listen.... I want to blame it on my husband.  I mean... if he would just do this instead of that...... I want to blame it on my recent health crisis. You know....if I felt better.... If this one hadn't run away... If that one hadn't got in trouble.... If there was more money in the bank..... If she was more organized.... If they pitched in and helped more.... If the dogs hadn't torn out the trash.... If the house was clean..... If the stove and dryer worked properly.... If....If...If....
  The truth is..... I am letting little things become super sized, and instead of unleashing my cares and frustrations to God, I am spewing them out on my family. This is NOT the legacy I want to leave for my children. This is NOT giving my husband any incentive to spend time with me. This is NOT how I want to be perceived.
   God, please help me to lay down the stresses and speak to my children with kindness. Please change my outlook and my attitude. Help me to believe that when You said that You work all things together for good... You meant it! Help me to trust You. Help me to allow You to work in and through me. Help me to be a blessing to my family and friends....and when I feel like I am about to blow a gasket, please help me to.....

Seasons

It seems that a lot of my thought life and emotions has been given over the last years of just getting to "my season"-the season of fulfillment, of walking fully in the promises of God etc etc etc

This week I was privileged to hear a Pastor speak on this subject and after I repented and surrendered it all-I saw the beauty and the wisdom of the Word and felt it was worth sharing.

He was saying that  Every season has it's struggles AND it's strengths. But when we are always looking forward to another time or season it is so easy to miss the lessons ,and  strengths  that this season will produce.

He also shared a testimony of Isaac Houghton of Israel and New Breed who told of a time when he had written a song that spoke of waiting for his season of fulfillment. Isaac said that God spoke to him and shared that this WAS his season of fulfillment. That the season we are in-If we embrace it-will equip us for the receiving of God's total plan for our lives.

Pastor went on to read the scripture "He makes everything beautiful in it's time. And while I believe that in God's timing if I am faithful that the finished product of the process will be beautiful, I also saw the fact that when we are present in THIS season and set the tone of it with our words and attitude that every season of our journey will produce a beauty that only THIS season can produce.

 St Ignatius stated-"The glory of God is man fully alive!" My desire is to live FULLY alive!! Lord-I choose by  your enablement-to allow you to shape me into your likeness by every time and season in which you place me. I am believing that this is a step by step-from-victory-to-victory-from-glory-to glory fashioning of us to be fully alive. Thank you Jesus!!!!!

Tests, Trust, and Time

   In our fast paced society we have become accustomed to getting what we want when we want it. I can jump into my almost new mini van and drive 2 blocks from my house at 4 in the morning and use my debit card to buy cheese sticks, churros, a milkshake, or an Italian sub. Instant gratification.
   Now I sit here watching as time ticks by at an excruciatingly slow pace waiting for a phone call, an appointment, a test result, an answer. Something has gone terribly wrong in my body. One day I was fine. The next day I was in the hospital. One moment I think I feel okay. The next moment I am sinking to the floor. My whole world has changed. Ambitions of cleaning and organizing my house, preparing and cooking a months worth of freezer meals, and writing the songs and stories that are rolling around in my head have been reduced to getting dressed, moving from my bed to the couch, taking a shower, brushing my hair, and putting on makeup.
    There is nothing I can do in my own strength to remedy this situation. It is beyond my knowledge, expertise, and ability. The only thing I can do is to trust in the Lord while I wait.