Take time...

Hurry...

The persistent yet invisible word-burden that always seems to infiltrate every barrier I put up.
The kids. Aaron. Church. Ministry. Needs. Have to's. Should have's. Want to's.

It pushes, and pushes and pushes some more.

The language of Hurry always brings friends along with it. Failure. Frustrations. Overwhelming. Just to name a few.

Mirrored in the eyes of the precious two gifts I've been entrusted with, I see my reflection. An unsettling image. One that I don't want duplicated.All too often I have seen and ignored in great detail the damage that this five letter word does when I refuse to lay it down.

Their disappointed faces at my too quick and too ready responses.

Their sadness at my all too often "Schedule" we live in.

So today I decided to be brave.

Pray a courageous prayer.

"Change MY heart."

I asked the Lord to help me to lay down the Hurry-burden, along with it's friends. To find the beauty of now. The perfect picture of grace by the moment.

It began with sitting humbly at the Saviors feet. Where mercy and grace are free. Second chances are given. And "Super-Moms-In-Training" learn a very important lesson...forgiveness freely dispersed by my sweet little blue eyed boy, whose mohawk isn't too tough to forgive his mama when she asks.

We have since completed 30 min of "mad-house-cleaning", swinging outside, watching a movie, doing each of us our own devotions, playing with Libs, picking peaches at Nana's, and now we are enjoying the delicious smell of fresh cobbler in the oven.

Want to see the miraculous? The taste and see that He is good moment?

I've accomplished everything on my "schedule", all the extra's with the kids, and even have had time to spare! God is good. Always. Even when this Jesus-girl stumbles along learning to Take Time...

Moving forward....

It's sort of a numbing pain.

I was putting up the lawn mower deck and (since it was raining, wet, wearing sandals and well...you get the picture). I stepped down hard on the deck pedal, and yeah...my foot slipped off. In the wrong direction. Not a good combo. The pedal collided with the inside of my ankle. Directly on the bone. It hit a vessel and quickly swelled to a nice little purple knot. Very attractive.

Then numbness.

It feels the same way on the inside of me as well. Only not so funny this time.

Sherry went home, dancing. She is fully healed and fully alive in her spirit. Normal is now sorta like limping along, knowing that one day you will feel again and operate in a somewhat familiar way. More wary. More teary. More like living with a deeper revelation of life, because of pain.

I've struggled with knowing how to write. I want to pour out my thoughts. Shout out my anger and frustrations. Sob out buckets. And even laugh at some fond memories I have. Such an up and down of emotions, clearly NOTHING close to what I know her family, and dearest friends are feeling. The amazing thing about her, is Sherry let others win.

We are grieving. Random memories flood in and fill my eyes. Darn it, I'm just sad and learning how to move forward.

I refuse to step on one more lego.

Seriously.

After a sleepless night with my princess, I awoke with my prince's toys underfoot.

I wish they'd send forth warning signs like: "DANGER...Step to the left" or "WATCH OUT...." Argh.

Sherry has been heavy on my heart this morning. So heavy. I'm reading Psalm 23. Over and over.

Like the lego fiasco, I am reminded once again of the Lord's ability to take us into uncharted territory. Through dangerous toils and snares. Over mountain highs and valleys low, because it is HE who stands ready to defend.

He is confident of HIS ability to protect and guide even in the danger zones.

Even over lego strewn floors.

We as friends can only walk so far. Oh how I wish it was further.

I swallowed tears encouraging a friend this morning. I burst forth in tears over the legos. Little princess bit mama on the shoulder with her razor sharp teeth. Tears only smarted.

He is near. The LORD is near.

I'm calling on Him.

He is near to all who call on Him.

Join me this morning in walking with our friend. With ALL our friends going through trials.

Go the distance with them. Shoulder to shoulder, and arm in arm.

Allow the tears to flow.

Tears water the ground, that cushions our feet, on the path that leads us to the Father.

Come Lord Jesus. Comfort. Guide. Protect and do what only You know to do.

You are good.

When there is nothing good in me, Lord.

You are Good.

Carrying On...

Good sunny summer morning!

We are still carrying on. Sherry is still with us.

This part of mercy is difficult to understand. Merciful deliverance vs. Merciful time given. God's gift to both.
Each day is weaker. More tired. Less interaction.

I find myself holding my breath as I watch her breathe. In....out. In...out. In..............out. In......
Over and over I think, "O Lord, have mercy. She suffers so..."

On my walk this morning, I noticed I was randomly humming..."Open the Eyes Of My Heart Lord". How appropriate. She wants to see Him. We all need to see Him. In the way that He is moving. In the revelation He desires to be seen.

This morning I tried to bring some cheer as I got up and fixed her hair as has been my habit to do so for the past week. She looks great! Her natural curl bounces up and her eyes sparkle just a bit as she sees herself in the mirror. She doubted my  abilities this morning after I was telling her about accidentally shaving off my eyebrow last week before we came. Oh, well. I've not had them before, so I'll survive....But I could understand her angst. =)

You don't think about the words you say until you say them and wish you hadn't. In circumstances like this one, its not very appropriate to say things like...."See ya later" (because some won't). Or, "I just about died....when that happened." You get my point. I have alot of those "duh" moments these days. Careless words....that I pray fall dormant.

Its almost dream-like. Out shopping we picked up a blouse or shirt, knowing she'll love it, only to remember reality. We bought it anyway and put it on her. We women are die hards when it comes to fashion.

Well, there I go again. See what I mean?

When I go out today I guess I'll buy some duct tape.

Victory over the grave...

Death is heavy.

My heart it heavy.

The subject of death and dying is not a light subject. We are here in Michigan with my folks. Visiting, laughing....and struggling.

Our long time family friend is in her final days. Possibly hours.

A precious warrior princess prepares to make her final voyage. As she leaves us behind, we remember. So much. Memories. Songs. Laughter, and now a season of tears. Not for her. For us. Even now, as we cheer her on in her final lap, she finds time to comfort. Her often glazed look focuses momentarily. She knows. I know. She squeezes my hand, and I respond.

My heart makes another memory.

As I have sat and watched her these two days past, I have noticed her strength waning. Sometimes fears. Sometimes strength. Isn't that so much like a warrior? The strength isn't in the armor, but in the heart. A fierce flame of Faith still burns bright. It will never leave. Faith isn't the absence of fear, but the assurance that God will win in the end.

Her friends come and go. They sing, they laugh, they cry. Grief. The elephant in the room. The heaviness that makes rainy days like today seem oppressive.

Libbi laughs and shows off her strength. Cade, the servants heart, makes sure Sherry has snacks in abundance.

From the other room I hear her sweet friend Renae singing songs of the King. Victorious Warrior. The One who, because He stands in victory, we don't have to be afraid anymore. Our Sovereign is in complete control. He alone controls our breath.

We have prayed for healing. Begged for it even. He is giving it. He has answered.

I watch my parents in this role as caregiver. Mom gives the medicine, always on schedule. They hold hands often. A friendship that sinks heart deep. Each holding onto the other, while both quietly fall apart. Coming to grips with this side of heaven.  Dad offers support. Solid. Steadfast.

Mercy.

Grace.

Physical reminders that this world is not our home.
"Our God is Greater" plays quietly. I see Sherry sing. Then I can't watch anymore. Tears spill down my face during the chorus. A worship leader....a TRUE worship leader that I have looked up to so often and always. Singing. Praising. Past the fears. Past the sorrows.

"How Great Is Our God"....more tears. Ugly cry going on. But...God is good. Always.

Good morning Monday

It's Monday again!

I guess the first day of the week HAD to be named...and No-fun-day would be too much to write out, and since Monday rhymed, it sorta stuck.

Or something like that.

I digress....

Here are a few of my favorite things about Monday...I'm so full of memories that my eyes burn. There's so much good, and just simply so much.

Anyhow...this weekend we celebrated as Aaron's oldest brother received good news...he can see and will recover over time. He was involved in a serious explosion that burned most of his upper body, at his job. Praise You Healer!!!

While the family was at the hospital, I stayed back with the kids and my father in law. Most of you know he's had a stroke back about 6 years ago. He wanted to know what was going on, so I sat on his bed & told him. Fathers have a tough role. Being strong in the midst of pain. His eyes filled with tears, yet in his way (as he cannot speak well) he gave me the "ok" sign. I tried to cheer him up. As I was transferring him to his wheel chair I made him promise that if I dropped him he couldn't tell a soul...;) he locked his legs, and I held him up/lifted him & we danced. Just like the old days. The days when he led and I followed. Those brief moments when his stoic personality would crack-just a bit. Being paralyzed now, years later, he cannot choose...but his eyes lit up and in his stroke-like-mask way, he smiled.

My morning routine has begun. Coffee in hand my books laid out to worship, and my girl is singing in her crib. My heart is full.

My mind keeps drifting to my sweet friend Sherry as she clings to this world. Our hope for healing on this side of eden, grows fragile as each day fades, but NEVER gives out. As I mentioned The Healer, even now He's at work. Being an impatient person, I want to see his work here on earth, not wait for the other shore. Selfish, I know.

Libbi is trying to crawl. She began eating real food and now it seems her growing is a constant as is her teething. And so it is.

Monday, Monday....

Such a good beginning. Here is a bit of encouragement from Eugene Peterson's Message:

"God, my shepherd! I don't need a thing. You have bedded me down in lush meadows, you find me quiet pools to drink from. True to your word, you let me catch my breath and send me in the right direction.

Even when the way goes through Death Valley, I'm not afraid when you walk at my side, Your trusty shepherd's crook makes me feel secure.

You serve me a six-course dinner right in front of my enemies. You revive my drooping head; my cup brims with blessing.

Your beauty and love chase after me every day of my life.

I'm back home in the house of GOD for the rest of my life."

Psalm 23

Morning has broken...me

It wasn't supposed to be this hard. 

Mornings aren't supposed to start this way, right? 

My toe found a piece of random glass that missed yesterday's multiple sweepings. My knee hit the dishwasher door as I was attempting my acrobatic balancing act after the toe incident. Libs awoke from all the craziness. *sigh* 

It's only 5:45am. 

I intended to get up early to read HIS message to me. Soak in the lyrical genius and melodious sonnets of worship, not the screeching cry from my crazy girl goat who trapped her head once again in the fence. (Feeling her pain only moments earlier with toe situation.)

All wasn't loss. In fact, He met me here in the midst if chaos. He always does. My cry for some normalcy in life is being answered. He's here and he's living me. Even my chaos. It's meeting the holy each time I breath His name: JESUS.

Not in curse but praise. 

This beautiful craziness of struggling for Christ-like-ness IS this "normal" I've been seeking. This is the only hell we will know this side of heaven. Finding those moments of quiet poses quite a challenge for me at times, but when I do, I praise instead of scream. Sing instead of swear. Listen instead if talk. Laugh and even cry.

Here's my encouragement for us all today: it only gets better! 

Jesus. 

Breath Him in. 

Wrap the toe; let the bruise heal. Get the goat out of the fence and feed the baby. If there isn't another quiet moment if this day, breath His name. 

Letting love explode inside of us is sure to cause a mess of chaos around us. 

 

#letlovewintoday

#breathethenameofjesus