Moving on...

Moving on doesn't mean you forget about things. It just means you have to accept what happened and continue living...

I Miss This Girl...

    I miss this girl...

                                                                         this girl...

                                                                        this girl...

this girl...

this girl...

                                                                      ......so much.

The Pink Shirt

A long long time ago, in what seems like a whole different galaxy and a whole lifetime ago, my daughter bought me, with her own money and not on my birthday or Mother's Day or Christmas, a cute pink shirt. Because she thought I would like it. and I did.

Then the whole world kinda fell aprt...and she left...and she hated us...and betrayed us...and I hid that shirt where I didn't think I would find it. Some time later, I came across it. And the pain was fierce. I came very close to throwing it away.

But I didn't. Now it is in the very back of my closet, reminding me of who she used to be, who she will be again someday. I have to trust.

Sometimes that shirt mocks me. Some times it gently chides me. But sometime I will wear it again.

The Girl Who...

                                         I Miss the girl:

                                        the girl who used to find happiness with her family...

the girl who lived life on the edge

                          the girl who had so many dreams and plans and so much to do 

                              that she didn't expect to get married for a long, long time....

                                                            the girl who liked to cook...

                                       the girl who was "peanut-butter" to Rachel's "jelly"...

                                                            (Rachel misses her, too)

                                                  the girl who liked to visit this place...

                                                      the girl who loved her siblings...

                                                      the girl who played the guitar...

                                      

the girl who loved her perfume bottles and pearls...

the girl who liked to write on her arm and shoot a gun...

 the girl who was so dramatic...in shows and real life

                                      the girl who had so much fun wearing these shoes...

                                                         the girl her siblings miss...

                                                     the girl who didn't say goodbye...

Ugly

It was ugly--raw, brutal, gut wrenching sobs--the words  "I miss her so much" burst out, unbidden and unexpected...

Yet beautiful. He held me--his tears joined mine. No words, just his arms around me.

No accusations tossed back and forth. No heated discussions about perceived failures.

Just two wounded souls who found each other...at least for this moment in time.

Two parents who are learning they are not responsible before God for the choices made by their child.


Two people trying to figure out alot of things:
--how to set boundaries, yet reach out to her
--how to protect younger siblings from bad influences, yet have a relationship with her
--how to love her, yet protect their own hearts

Two people who need to learn:
--how to talk to each other without rubbing salt into tender places
--how to discuss hard things without blame or sarcasm or hidden agendas
--how to be gentle with each other

Motherhood

Motherhood is a choice you make everyday,
to put someone else's happiness and well-being ahead of your own,
to teach the hard lessons,
to do the right thing even though you're not sure what the right thing is,
and to forgive yourself over and over again for doing everything wrong.

Donna Bell

The Hardest Work of All

Never think for a moment that waiting is idle. 

Sometimes we do no harder work in our lives than the work of 

         "waiting"

         "being still"

         "sitting back"

and letting the Holy Spirit work.

It is a totally active time of choosing to trust God's perfect timing.

~ Beth Moore

Cowboy Theology

Texas of course is famous for its cowboys, and some of those rough riders are pretty smart fellas. Some even have better theology than some professors and preachers I know.

I heard the story of a cowboy who applied for health insurance. As the agent was making his way through a marathon list of questions, he asked the cowboy, “Have you had any accidents?”

The cowboy replied “No, none at all. I was bitten last year by a rattlesnake and a horse kicked me in the ribs. That did lay me up for awhile.”

The agent responded with a confused look on his fact, “Wouldn’t you call those accidents?”

“Why no,” said the cowboy, “They both did it on purpose!”

(I don't know who wrote this--if you do, please share. I would like to be able to credit the author!)

Wait

by Russell Kelfer

Desperately, helplessly, longingly, I cried;

Quietly, patiently, lovingly, God replied. 

I pled and I wept for a clue to my fate . . . 

And the Master so gently said, "Wait."

"Wait? you say wait?" my indignant reply.
"Lord, I need answers, I need to know why!
Is your hand shortened? Or have you not heard?
By faith I have asked, and I'm claiming your Word."

"My future and all to which I relate
Hangs in the balance, and you tell me to wait?
I'm needing a 'yes', a go-ahead sign,
Or even a 'no' to which I can resign."

"You promised, dear Lord, that if we believe,
We need but to ask, and we shall receive.
And Lord I've been asking, and this is my cry:
I'm weary of asking! I need a reply."

Then quietly, softly, I learned of my fate,
As my Master replied again, "Wait."
So I slumped in my chair, defeated and taut,
And grumbled to God, "So, I'm waiting for what?"

He seemed then to kneel, and His eyes met with mine . . .
and He tenderly said, "I could give you a sign.
I could shake the heavens and darken the sun.
I could raise the dead and cause mountains to run."

"I could give all you seek and pleased you would be.
You'd have what you want, but you wouldn't know Me.

You'd not know the depth of my love for each saint.
You'd not know the power that I give to the faint."

"You'd not learn to see through clouds of despair;
You'd not learn to trust just by knowing I'm there.
You'd not know the joy of resting in Me
When darkness and silence are all you can see."

"You'd never experience the fullness of love
When the peace of My spirit descends like a dove.
You would know that I give, and I save, for a start,
But you'd not know the depth of the beat of My heart."

"The glow of my comfort late into the night,
The faith that I give when you walk without sight.
The depth that's beyond getting just what you ask
From an infinite God who makes what you have last."

"You'd never know, should your pain quickly flee,
What it means that My grace is sufficient for thee.
Yes, your dearest dreams overnight would come true,
But, oh, the loss, if you missed what I'm doing in you."

"So, be silent, my child, and in time you will see
That the greatest of gifts is to truly know me.
And though oft My answers seem terribly late,
My most precious answer of all is still . . . Wait."

"You'd have what you want but you wouldn't know Me..."

Two Sides

a poem by Hannah--11 years old

                                                           Hannah and Mary-Grace
                                                                The Alamo--2009
                                                                         before



Two sides of every story
Two sides of every scene
I'm not sure what you were seeing

I'm not saying I know your pain but I have mine

You changed so fast
I don't know who you are

I know I'm hurting your feelings but mine's already hurt

I was so confused--why did you leave us?

Misquoted Scripture

[The following is taken from the blog of a young mother, Jesica, who had ovarian cancer, and was written less than six months before she passed away. http://pixiemarierose.blogspot.com/2009/04/misquoted-scripture.html
It encouraged and admonished me.  And so I share it with you.] 

How often have you said or been told, "God won't give you more than you can handle"?

I bet it's a LOT.

Wanna know how many times I've heard it? About a zillion and ten, I think.

Wanna know something interesting? 

It's not even true! 

WHOA! I just blew your mind, didn't I?

That isn't what the passage of the bible says at all! It says God will not let you be TEMPTED beyond what you can bear, and that He will always give you a way out.

1 Corinthians 10:13 (New International Version)
No temptation has seized you except what is common to man. And God is faithful; He will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, He will also provide a way out so that you can stand up under it.

So you tell me ... 
when I say:  "I'm so tired of having cancer. I'm sick of being sick. Tired of being tired. Why won't God release me from this and heal me?," what exactly does that passage in Corinthians have to do with ANYTHING?

Oh wait ... I know ... NOTHING!! I'm not tempted, and I'm not sinning. (well ... ok, I sin ... but I'm not sinning when I'm tired of being sick)

God WILL most certainly give us more than we can bear. Yes, He will.

Wanna know why?

Because when we are weak, we are made strong IN HIM. Because when we get tired and quit, He takes over. When we can admit that there is NO WAY we can bear up through our trials ... but that God is faithful and ever present ... we are giving Him the glory.

He deserves the glory. Without Him by our sides, how would we ever get through any of this ... this ... crap we call life?

In 2 Corinthians, the 7th chapter, it says that God comforts the depressed.

Not that He removes all sadness and despair. He doesn't tell us our faith is lacking. He doesn't tell us to buck up and move on. He doesn't even say "I'll never give you more than you can handle."

He just comforts us. Picture a sad kid. Picture his daddy picking him up and holding him and comforting him until the tears stop. God does that for us.

I'm genuinely grateful for the people in my life who try to comfort me and offer encouragement. I love that people care enough to try. It's beautiful. It's humbling. It makes my heart warm and my day brighter.

But you can't fix it. None of you can. Offering up platitudes and cliches doesn't heal cancer. I don't want to be told that God won't give me more than I can handle, because He HAS. So much more than I can handle on my own. More than I ever would've thought I could survive, never mind handle gracefully. More than most people could even imagine. More. Much more.

Wanna know what Bible verse I'd rather you memorize and use?

Romans 12:15 (New International Version)
Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn.



That's all. Just be sad with me. Be tired of this journey, like I am. Hold my hand and just LET me be sad. Because I am sad. I am scared. And that's ok. Because God comforts me in my sadness. No one can "fix" it ... but God will see me through it.

Next time a friend comes to you with a broken heart, a broken spirit, a sad story, or in pain, will you please not tell him that God won't give him more than he can handle. Would you please just love them where they are? Just mourn WITH them, like the Bible tells us to do.

Thanks. 

Jesica

Incomprehensible

We should not be despondent.

In the sorrows we experience is concealed the mercy of God.
How the Lord arranges our life is incomprehensible for us.

~ St. Nikon of Optina

My Abraham Moment

I'm a parent. I'm a Christian. I'm not Abraham. Yet it seems to me that God is asking me to lay my Isaac on the altar. The thought of it is exquisitely painful. And if I didn't already know the end of the story, I don't think I'd even be able to consider it. As a mother, I would walk though fire to protect each one of my children.

With Abraham I can say "God will provide the lamb." By faith Abraham was obedient to offer his Isaac and God did provide the lamb. By faith, I need to offer up my own Isaac, even while I expectantly seek the ram in the bushes.

But I'm not Abraham and perhaps the end of my story is not the same as the end of Abraham's story. God may yet require a fiery sacrifice, not the literal sacrificial fire of Abraham's day but a trial by fire. I know how Abraham's story ends and I trust that is how my story will end---it's just the part right before the ending that I'm unsure about. 

Dutifully, yet a bit hesitantly, I purpose to release my Isaac in blind obedience and full faith. And obedience and faith are what God desires of me. God is God, whether a lamb is provided or not. My Isaac was His long before he was mine. And God loves him even more than I do.   

Here I have built my altar--here I have placed my Isaac. I release my child...to a fiery trial or to the gracious appearance of the Lamb of God.   

This is my Abraham moment.