Philippines 2014: Initial Thoughts

Women's Retreat in Pozorrubio

I have been avoiding this—the writing about my trip to the Philippines.  Rarely at a loss for words and guilty on countless occasions of exceeding the recommended 500 word limit for blog posts; I am known for throwing propriety and caution to the wind.  I write until I am done with my thoughts.  Perhaps it is fear that keeps me from writing now; fear that words might fail to do justice to what my heart knows to be true.

Don’t let me be guilty of overdone platitudes: “I went to give but how much more I received,” or “I thought I would serve but it was they who served me.” Not that any of that is untrue.  It just isn’t enough.

You have to know this about me first—I am sentimental, but I am not.  I am romantic, but I am not. Tears do not come easily to me.  I am a realist.  I am suspicious.  I have learned not to expect too much and therefore, I am often pleasantly surprised.

All that I knew was that I was supposed to go.  I didn’t know why.  Honestly, I wasn’t the least bit excited about this journey even a week before.  Oh, I pretended to be excited.  Truthfully, I held more dread than anticipation. What if the heat was unbearable?  What if I felt suffocated being around people for two weeks?  Where would I find the peace and solitude that I crave?  What if I don’t sleep and get cranky and horribly offend someone?

Please understand, I am the same woman who stood on a hill overlooking Jerusalem in 2000, surrounded by friends who were weeping for joy at their first sight of the Holy Land, all the while feeling nothing but shame for having no tears of my own.  I was miserably tired, hot, and unimpressed by the pale beige tones of the desert and the pierce of the thorny ground into my Birkenstock-exposed toes.  Jet lag is not my friend.

Afraid of setting my expectations too high, the best I knew to do was to lean in to the prayers offered on my behalf.  There must have been more than I even imagined.  I had the privilege of an assignment prior to the trip…the writing of a devotional for the women we would meet in Manila and the provinces, “31 Days of Hope.”  One of the days was about letting go.  For someone like me who lives alone and has the illusion of control, journeying with a group to other side of the world can be daunting.  I took my own advice and it helped.  Well, actually, it was the advice of a friend to me when I was escalating up the hill of a roller coaster I had never ridden before; “Just relax and let it happen.”  And so I did.

It didn’t matter that I didn’t get more than five hours of sleep at a time while I was there.  It didn’t matter that I was drenched with sweat much of the time.  It didn’t matter that there was a typhoon and we were without electricity for an entire day, and portions of days thereafter.  It didn’t matter than I had way too much rice and (sometimes) food that I could not identify. None of that mattered because this adventure, this, was the best trip I have ever taken…even better than Italy.  How could this be?

My heart was fully engaged.  That is what mattered.

On the way to the airport 07_09_2014

Manila...after 38 hours of travel

This rainbow was waiting for us at the Manila airport

Oh, I am not done…this is only the beginning…

The Summer I Saw the Crape Myrtle

In warmer climates like those of North and South Carolina, there is a beautiful flowering tree commonly known as the Crape Myrtle.  The flowers can be white or pink or purple.  In Charlotte, they line streets and can be found in commercial and private landscaping.  In my neighborhood, I can see them from my bay window when I look out at my neighbor’s yard.

I was reminded of my love of Crape Myrtles this morning as I took my daily walk.  The flowers are beginning to shed and they sprinkle the ground like colorful snowflakes.  

Crape Myrtles make me smile.  Not just because they are so beautiful.  There is a deeper meaning for me.  You see, I had lived in Charlotte for nine years before I ever remember seeing one.  In my personal timeline, I affectionately call it “the summer I saw the Crape Myrtle.”

It was the summer I turned thirty years old.  I had just purchased my very first home in March of that year.  When the Crape Myrtles began their glorious display that summer, the first one I saw was from the view from my dining room window.  It took moving in and settling right next to one for me become curious about them.  What is this lovely tree and where had it been all of my life?

I asked my friends about it and they laughed at me.  Had I not seen them everywhere in Charlotte summers?  I began to see them as if for the first time.  They lined the street on the way to my church.  They are all over my neighborhood, where I had rented for three years before I moved into my own home.  They really seemed to be popping up all over the place.  Why had I never noticed? 

I believe it is because landscaping was irrelevant to my life until I had my own yard to nurture.  Once I took ownership of a piece of land, as small as mine is, I began to notice yards and landscaping everywhere I went.  My eyes became attuned to the colors and the beauty around me as I contemplated my own yard.  I opened my heart and mind to the beauty around me and I was astounded at what I began to see.

Do you have eyes but fail to see and ears but fail to hear…? (Mark 8:18)

That summer my eyes were opened; not only to the beauty of the Crape Myrtle, but to the idea that I am capable of not seeing what is right in front of me.  If I can overlook the Crape Myrtle, what else have I not seen?

When I think of the Crape Myrtle, I am reminded to pray for eyes that see and ears that hear.  What is my role in this life I have been given?  How can I become more attuned to God’s presence and His voice?

"My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me." (John 10:27)

Learning to discern the voice of God is a lifelong pursuit.  I have to be open to His voice.  Not just open, but hungry for it. 

I don’t want to miss Him.  I am convinced that days go by where I close my mind and heart to what God desires to do in my life.  I don’t want to be like the people Jesus described in Matthew 13:

For this people’s heart has become calloused;

    they hardly hear with their ears,

    and they have closed their eyes.

Otherwise they might see with their eyes,

    hear with their ears,

    understand with their hearts

and turn, and I would heal them.’  (Matthew 13:15)

Oh Father, let me have eyes to see and ears to hear You.  Help me to create space for You in my days.  I don’t want to have a calloused heart.  I want a heart that is open and soft before You.  I want to be healed.

Holy Yoga...An Unexpected Refuge

Picture from Holy Yoga Charlotte Facebook Page

There is something incredibly healing about human touch.  My awareness of this fact is heightened because I do not often receive physical touch.  Gentle touch to the feet can be amazing.  As I was lying with eyes shut, arms out, palms open wide, breathing slowly and deeply…I felt something so nurturing and kind…hands coated with oil, gentle smooth pressure all over my feet in quick strokes.  Soon my feet were covered in a soft swirl of oil and the sense of care swept from my feet to my heart and to my mind…"what a thoughtful and kind way to serve me."  It is humbling.  It is loving.  It is what my Jesus would do.  Kristine, she allowed herself to be Jesus’ hands and heart towards me…towards each of us in the Holy Yoga class.  It didn’t matter that we had never met.  She gave freely. 

After class I told her how I appreciated that act of kindness.  It reminded me of the day that my feet were washed many years ago after a season of temptation and shame.  How Jesus used my friends' hands and prayers to wash me clean.  How I was physically reminded of God’s endless grace and compassion towards me.

She said she doesn’t always do that.  She just tries to listen to the Holy Spirit.  She allows God to change the course of her classes.  It was a class designed for me that day.

I had a difficult week where the voices of my past and the voice of the enemy whispered in my ear.  At every turn, it seemed, even in the midst of kind words towards me, I heard the one negative or the thing that could be taken either way and magnified it in my mind and heart as if it was shouted to me, “I am not enough.  I can’t get it right.  I failed again.”

  

As I drove myself to Carmel Presbyterian for the first time that morning, I prayed that I would find the building and get to the class early enough to get situated.  I had never taken a Yoga class.  Holy Yoga had popped up on my Facebook feed.  I “liked” it with the intention of visiting one day.  This day, I was hoping for some stretching and a little inspiration.  I didn’t know how worshipful it would be.  

When I walked into the room, Kristine greeted me with a beautiful smile and a warm hug.  There was a table set with candles and a box for prayer requests as well as donations ($5 to $8 is suggested).  I filled out a form with my contact information and a waiver not to sue if I injured myself.  Pretty standard for exercise classes.

She had all the equipment ready for me.  I was situated on a mat near the front.  There were some bolsters and bean bags to help with positioning.  Soon, the others filed in and the class began.  I was greeted with smiles and some introductions.

This particular class was called Gentle Holy Yoga…a perfect class for a beginner.  It was as much a worship time as it was a stretching time.  There were several scripture readings read by Kristine from moment to moment, mostly from the Psalms.  Also, a reading from Sarah Young’s Jesus Calling as we stretched and breathed:

“Relax in my healing, holy Presence.  Be still, while I transform your heart and mind.  Let go of cares and worries, so that you can receive my Peace. Cease striving, and know that I am God.

Do not be like Pharisees who multiplied regulations, creating their own form of “godliness.”  They got so wrapped up in their own rules that they lost sight of Me.  Even today, man-made rules about how to live the Christian life enslave many people.  Their focus is on their performance, rather than on Me. 

It is through knowing Me intimately that you become like Me.  This requires spending time alone with Me.  Let go, relax, be still, and know that I am God.”

In between the readings there was worship music.  My favorite was "No Sweeter Name," sung by Kari Job:

Adobe flash is needed to watch video

As we listened, I heard the most lovely soprano voice singing along with Kari.  It was Kristine.  Later I found out that she is married to the music director at the church.  Her Facebook page tells me that she has a Bachelor of Music in Vocal Performance.  I am not surprised.  But let me be clear, she was not performing.  She was worshipping.  She was singing along intermittently, naturally, beautifully.  It was not distracting at all…it added to the sense of peace and flow and worship.  

I had walked in to the class with a heavy heart.  I left feeling a sense of God’s peace and love for me.  He ministered to me through scripture, music, touch, the sweet aroma of oil and candles, and prayer.  At one point, as she prayed, Kristine even asked what voices we had been listening to in our heads, “Is it my voice?  Is it God’s voice?”  There was a long pause and I thought about my week and added silently, “The enemy’s voice.”  And then Kristine said, “The enemy’s?”

It was as if this class was tailored for the struggles of my week.  I shared this with Kristine afterwards.  She says it is always different.  She doesn’t always use the oil and touch feet.  She has learned to follow the lead of the Holy Spirit.  I looked at my copy of Jesus Calling this morning and I realized that the reading she used was not the reading for the day of our class.  It was the one I needed to hear.

I am reminded once again of how personal God can be to us.  He met me right where I was upon entering that room.  He whispered Peace and Love to me through Kristine’s ministry.  He whispered Hope and Nurture.  And once again I am reminded that He is Enough.  And because He is, I am enough in Him. 

“Cease striving and know that I am God…" 

Psalm 46:10 NASB

To connect with Charlotte Holy Yoga click Here

To learn more about Holy Yoga and find a class near you, click Here

Dreams and Crossroads

I dreamed about a tape measure last night.  My dad was still alive, and I was buying him a Christmas present.

He was hard to buy for...a simple man who was happiest walking in the very field you see pictured above. I wanted to give him something other than the usual socks or underwear.  I found this unique tape measure, in my dream, which was actually two tape measures side by side.  I thought he could use it in his little shop/workbench in the basement.  It was sold with other crafty type stuff included in the box, similar to things I had seen in the nooks and crannies of his work table.  I also got him a paperback novel, which Mom scolded me about, "You know he can't read anymore!"  Okay, I thought in my dream, I won't give him the book.  The double tape measure will be enough.

I woke up, dream so vivid, and I asked God what it meant.  I may let you know when He reveals it. I have learned that often God will let me know what He wants me to know when I ask...it just usually isn't immediate.  

I will hear His voice when I am walking or blow-drying my hair or driving.  It will hit me all-of-the-sudden. I have learned to pay attention.  It is not an audible voice, but a strong thought that hits my mind and heart at the same time.  

So, I don't yet know what He wants to tell me from my dream.  There is also the possibility that the dream is about my subconscious-self speaking to me, revealing what my heart believes is true.  That is good information to have as well.

Once, many years ago, I had a dream about going to church in my bathrobe and curlers.  I was sitting near the front, and on this particular Sunday, the pews moved and revolved so that everyone saw me and I felt embarrassed and woefully unprepared for worship.  

I asked God, when I woke up, what the dream meant.  I was sure it was from Him.  I was frustrated when He did not answer immediately.

But then, hours later, as I opened my mouth to sing in the worship service, the meaning hit me suddenly and clearly...it was like a "whoosh!"  

I sensed God speaking, "Janice, you would never come to church physically unprepared...you always look your best.  How many times have you come to church spiritually and emotionally prepared?  How do you prepare your heart for worship?"

That was a revelation.  That was a call to respond.  During that season of my life, I started to attend a prayer meeting early in the morning before church.  I sensed that I needed to pray before I attended the service, to prepare as much internally as I always did externally.

When God asks something specific of me and I KNOW it, I have a choice.  I have a choice to obey or not. To whom much is given, much is required.  (Reading the Bible is life-changing but loaded...once I know His will and His plan, I am faced with decisions.)  Sure, if I choose not to do as He asks, I can be forgiven. But that forgiveness did not come cheap to God.  Ask Him about Jesus.

My holiness is not dependent on my righteousness, it is based on Christ's righteousness.  It is based on accepting and knowing that it is only because of Jesus that I am "saved."

But...walking with God is a relationship.  It is an opportunity to grow deeper in love with Him and to grow into maturity and into a life-that-is-truly-life.  An opportunity to become who I was created to be.  THAT cannot happen without obedience.

We face this crossroad daily, those of us who call ourselves Christian.  We have forks in the road where we get to choose to obey or to do our own thing.  Sometimes we feel that we are getting away with something when we say no to God and know that He still loves us and forgives us.  But we are lying to ourselves.  And even though there is no escaping God's love, there is also no escaping some of the consequences of disobedience.

It is true that He loves us more than we can know.  He will forgive us if we repent, but we are not getting away with anything...we are cheating ourselves out of the life that we were created to live.  When we say "no" to God, we deny ourselves deeper intimacy with our Creator.  We stifle our own spritual growth and growth as human beings.  

Saying "yes" can be painful and require sacrifice.  But the joy...the joy and peace is SO worth it.  

I'm not gonna lie and say I've learned my lesson.  I will still say "no" to God at times...I am human and I am selfish and I struggle to say "yes."  My desire is to learn to say "Yes!" more and more so that the "no's" are fleeting.  

With each "yes" I am stepping closer to His heart.

"My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow Me..."  

John 10:27 KJV

When Is It More Lonely to Be With Someone Than to Be Alone?

This video is being passed around on Facebook...which is kind of ironic, given the subject matter.  What do you think about it?

Note: This video is on You Tube (click here).  If you cannot see it on your smartphone, please check it out from your computer.  It truly is worth a watch.

Look Up Video by Gary Turk

I like it.  I confess, I have been guilty of being the one "looking down."  I have also found myself sitting next to someone who was the one "looking down."  It was a lonely experience. 

I have been told, over the years, that there is no more lonely place than to be in a marriage and feel isolated.  I imagine that is true.  I am thankful that I have not experienced that kind of loneliness.

Have you ever felt lonely in a crowded room?  I have.  And yet, I took a trip overseas by myself and I did not feel lonely.  Why is that?  Perhaps it has to with expectations and focus.

When I traveled to Italy solo in 2008, I knew that I would be alone much of the time.  I embraced it and I prepared myself for it.  It was a wonderful adventure in which I felt satisfied just being with myself and my God.  I reveled in the triumph of it, really.

My travels were in the days before Facebook for me.  I was able to get to an Internet kiosk every so often and send a letter home to friends and family.  The letters are included at the beginning of this Blog, Travelling Solo.  Sometimes, there would be replies waiting for me.  This communication was valuable for me and reminded me that I had people thinking of me and rooting for me back home.  I was thousands of miles away but we still connected on some level.  I guess I wasn't really alone at all.

The times I have felt terribly lonely in a room full of people were times when I did not feel connected to anyone in the room at that moment...times when I felt insignificant.  Times when I was believing lies in my head that said, "No one cares that I am here."  Or, "Everyone else is having more fun than me." Kind of self-absorbed, wasn't I?

I am learning a lot about myself.  Some good things and some not-so-great things.  Information is power.  

I have learned to ask myself an important question, "What do I need?"  The answer is not always the same.  If I put myself in a room full of people when I am sensing the need to be alone, I will not thrive.  I may offend someone.  I won't be the best conversationalist and I may leave feeling more empty and alone than when I arrived.

Conversely, sometimes I need to be around a group of people.  I feel energized in the company of people whom I value.  There is an energy in the room that I pick up within myself.  It's a bonus when I can laugh with others. Laughter is a medicine which my soul craves.  Sometimes I need to be with people so that I am reminded that I am not alone.

I am so grateful for the many friends and loved ones in my life who share moments and memories with me.  I value our conversations and our pondering.  I treasure the times we have laughed together, yes, even when it is at my expense.  Life is rich because of you.

My Friend

Sometimes I hear God 

through the thoughts He plants in my mind

in response to my earnest prayers.

Sometimes I hear Him through your voice.

Sometimes it seems that I am laying in God's 

strong hand at night...

like my mattress is the cushions of His hand.

Sometimes I feel Him through your arms.

Sometimes I see God in the clouds on a sunny day,

or in a breathtaking view of mountains 

or an ocean that spans infinity.

Sometimes I see Him in your eyes.

Sometimes I feel understood by God

through reading His timeless Word

and sitting before Him in silence.

Sometimes I feel understood because you listen.

                                                  JKL 5-7-14

Today...

Miracle for Jen

I am still trying to wrap my head around all that I experienced this past weekend at the Knowing God Ministries conference in Apex, North Carolina.  The weekend was entitled, Making a Difference in my Corner of the World.  

I attended the conference by invitation of a friend who is also an alum of Grove City College (in Pennsylvania.)  Fuller, whose name at GCC was Karen Fuller, was only an acquaintance when we were in school.  We reconnected last year at an alumni event in Cary, NC and have become heart-to-heart friends.  Our faith especially connects us as our life experiences have been very different.  We share a heart for God and currently, the experience of being single gals.

Fuller and me at KGM Conference February 28, 2014

Fuller is on the ministry team at Knowing God Ministries (KGM).  She is gifted in speaking, writing, photography, and I'm sure in a multitude of other ways. I am so glad that I responded to her encouragement to attend this event.  

The main speakers at the conference were Linda and Jen Barrick.  Here is a picture of KGM founder, Tara Furman with Jen and Linda:

Tara Furrman, Jen and Linda Barrick (photo taken by Fuller Harvey)

Where do I begin?  Certainly, the highlight of the conference was hearing Jen's story and witnessing her joy and her relationship with the Lord.  Also, Linda is a gifted speaker and teacher in her own right.  She leads a Bible study in Lynchburg, VA that has grown to include over 600 women weekly.  Her sweet spirit and her openness was refreshing and touching.  I was encouraged by both the simple and the profound reminder that God is near and He wants to be my deepest friend.  

Take a look at this video to get a taste of what we heard this weekend:

What we heard is even more profound if you know the Barricks' story.  They were hit by a drunk driver in 2006, when Jen was 15 (she is now 22) on their way home from church.  Jenn was not expected to live through the night.  She was in a coma for nearly 6 weeks.  When she started to come out of the coma, instead of swearing (as her parents were warned that most people do), Jen prayed, praised God, and spoke the words to praise songs.  

Click Here to watch the short version of her story on You Tube  

Needless to say, I was honored to get to meet these beautiful women and to hear their story.  I was challenged to get back to the basics of my faith...God desires a love relationship with me.  That really is the point of the cross, the reason why Jesus came, the reason he had to die.  My sin does not have to keep me from a Holy God because of His great love for me.  The same is true for you.

In addition to three teaching sessions with Linda and Jen (which were all fantastic), we had the opportunity to participate in three breakout sessions with other dynamic women of faith.  I was blessed and challenged by these sessions as well.

Check out the adorable decorations (I love the "vase" and tulips):

Photo taken by Fuller Harvey for KGM Ministries

Such a fun weekend and impactful on so many levels.  I am so glad that my friend, Fuller, encouraged me to attend.  

If you are interested in reading Jen's story, she has a book called "Miracle for Jen" available at Amazon.  The Barrick family also have a website called Hope Out Loud.  

Finally, I was blessed to watch a two-part series produced by Joni and Friends:

PART 1

PART 2

These videos are free to watch.  If you have some time, they are well worth it.  

Jen signs her books with her favorite Bible Verse:  

However, as it is written, "What no eye has seen, what no ear has heard, and what no human mind has conceived--the things God has prepared for those who love Him."  I Cor 2:9

Auld Lang Syne, Valentine (To Endings and Beginnings...and Accidental Roads)

When I was a little girl, I went to lots of weddings.  My father had six brothers which means I had many cousins.  We weren't a close family. I rarely saw my cousins.  But we always went to their weddings. 

I loved the weddings.  I especially loved the procession.  I loved the anticipation of the moment we would see the bride for the first time.  I loved the rose petals on the white runners and I loved that all eyes were fixed on the back doors of the sanctuary.  I loved the moment when the doors were opened and the music swelled and the song and the tempo changed.  My heart would flutter in my chest and I would find it hard to breathe. The emotion was so strong...this was it!   There she was, always looking more beautiful than I'd ever remembered...shining eyes gazed upon her groom who waited for her at the altar.  This was her moment. This was what she had waited for all of her life.

I was torn between looking at the groom's eyes as he first saw his bride in all of her glory and keeping my eyes on the bride's tremulous beauty.  I would fight to hold back tears.  It was always hard not to cry.

All I knew in my young innocence, is that surely this is when life begins.

If that were really true, at forty-nine, I am still waiting to be born.

By the time I finished college, I had begun attending weddings of my peers.  One would think that some of the emotion of the processional would have worn off by then, but it had not.  My need to cry seemed to escalate with each passing year.  My belief that life was beginning for these people I knew and loved didn't change.  My heart would swell and I would choke back tears.  And I would wonder and pray for when my time would come.

To make matters worse, or so it seemed, when I was twenty-five I attended a revival at my church where I was told that I would be married very soon.  I had fasted and prayed before this meeting as we were instructed by our Pastor, and I had sincerely asked God for spiritual renewal in my life.  When I went to the altar for prayer by the guest Preacher, he looked in my eyes and told me that God was telling him that He was preparing me for marriage.  He said that I would be married very soon.  And he said that my husband and I would be a healing team together.

I could hardly contain my excitement, I was in awe...God really does love me!  It wasn't my intention to ask for a husband at this meeting.  I was seeking God.  But He was telling me that He saw my hungry heart and that He was working on the details of my love life.  It couldn't get any better than this!

I believed, in my heart, that I wasn't really loved (or lovable) until I was chosen by a man.  Not just chosen to date but chosen for a lifetime.  I dated some and believed myself to be in love a couple of times, but my heart was so hungry and perhaps my desperation showed.  I ended two relationships.  Not because I didn't love them, but because it was clear that they could not love me.  Maybe they sensed that the hole in my heart was too big for them to fill.  My expectations were so high...they could not be my happiness.

I entered my thirties with hope beginning to wilt.  There was no husband in sight.  My peers continued to marry at a rapid pace.  Those years of weddings of dear friends were fun, don't get me wrong, and I rejoiced with my friends.  But inside, there was pain.  The pain of unmet longing.  The pain of feeling forgotten. The pain of feeling left behind.

It was like I was stuck in a time warp, repeating the same grade over and over while my friends "graduated" into married bliss, and then...building families.  Thank God that I didn't also have that ticking biological clock in my head.  I was never sure about having children.  Part of me wanted a little girl who would look like me, but I didn't allow myself to entertain the thought.  I just longed for the wedding first, and I figured that would follow in time.

It wasn't all misery--those thirty-something years.  I am grateful to have been part of a large church with a thriving singles ministry.  We were like a family, with the same joys and dysfunctions that most families have. I did not date much in the group, as the competition was fierce and I was never one to fight for a man.  I didn't have the confidence to flirt.  I had crushes that came to nothing.  But we had great fun together travelling to the beach or to the North Carolina Mountains.  There were Bible studies, parties, dances and just doing life together.  Life was rich, it was just very different from the way that I had pictured it would be.

Valentine's days were always hard.  I would hope and pray each year that the following year would be different, but it never was.  One year, I wrote a poem for a contest on the Christian radio station called Eternal Love.  I didn't win, but it was published the following year in Billy Graham's Decision Magazine.

Then, when I was thirty-six, I became a cancer survivor.  It was a tumor the size of a watermelon...Ovarian Cancer.  After emergency surgery, I was hospitalized for a week and out of work for seven months while undergoing six rounds of chemotherapy.  Here is a secret that I learned about my unexpected single life...I had an army of friends and family who loved me.

God used this unplanned turn in the road of my life to show me how truly loved I was.  I thrived during this trial.  One of my most treasured possessions now is a guest book that I had in my hospital room...eighty-nine different visitors came to see me in the week following surgery.  None of these visitors were related by blood, only by love.  My room looked like a flower shop with twenty-six flower arrangements and plants.  I honestly think some of the nurses thought that I must be a celebrity.  Upon completing chemotherapy, I had a "Celebrate Life" party with a DJ and over two hundred guests. In my singleness, I had time for investment in many people's lives. I had many, many friends. What I reaped during that season of life was far beyond anything that I had sown. It was rich and full and beyond what I could have imagined.

This was when I first started to believe that I was loved, even without a husband and a nuclear family.  It was wonderful.  It was real.  And isn't it just like the God I serve to be creative in His way to answer my need to feel loved?  He takes the ordinary and makes it extraordinary.  He takes tragedy and turns it to triumph.  

After thriving during this trial in my life, I believed I had earned the right to be married.  I was sure that soon to follow my illness would be a husband.  I joined dating services and I waited with anticipation.  But eventually, the disappointment set in again.  Where was he, God?  When does my life start...this life I have been waiting for...this "we" life?

More Valentines' Days came and went.  One year, I cried out to God in the parking lot of my workplace, asking Him for flowers.  You can read about this story here.  

Not long after my cancer battle, I lost my parents within eight months of each other.  And then I turned forty just one month after my mother passed away.  The loss of my father was somewhat expected; my mother's death was not.  She had a massive stroke.  These goodbyes were ones that I had dreaded my whole life.  I used to cry myself to sleep at night as a little girl, counting the years and wondering how old I would be when I lost my parents.  I grieved that they were older than most of my friends' parents and I knew that I would be fortunate to still have them into my late thirties.  I asked God to let my father live to be at least eighty.  If he lived to be eighty, I would be thirty-nine (unimaginably old to a little girl).  He was eighty when he died.  I wish I had asked for more.

I am learning with these losses.  I am learning with every turn in the road.  What I did not know in my tears as a child was the way I would feel when God showed up when I needed Him most.  I didn't know in my fears that He is truly close to the brokenhearted, just like He promised in His Word.  He has met me in the valleys in ways that I would not have ever been able to anticipate while still on the mountaintops.  Nothing is wasted with God.  I don't get the measure of Grace that I will need a minute before I need it...but when it is needed, it overflows.  He is always on time and He is always Enough.  Always.

That doesn't mean this journey is pain-free.  Not at all.  If even Jesus wept, why should I be spared tears? The Bible says, "Hope deferred makes the heart sick.." (Proverbs 13:2).  I can attest to this.  Approaching my mid-forties, I felt heart-sick.  By this time, I had witnessed the weddings and the births of new miracles into most of my dearest friends' worlds.  I was stuck in a "grade" that I didn't want to be in.  I felt like a relationship failure.  I felt forgotten.  I began to feel unlovable again.  I began to be bitter.  

I remember exactly where I was when my attitude began to change.  I had to make a choice.  I was in my living room, tying my tennis shoes before leaving the house to play tennis.  I was about to turn off the television when I heard this quote which I have since discovered was penned by E.M. Forster, "We must be willing to let go of the life that we have planned, so as to have the life that is waiting for us."

I decided there and then, in that moment, that I was going to celebrate my life as it is, instead of continuing to mourn what never was.  I was going to embrace the journey.  I was going to plan some vacations.  I was a family of one and I decided that I was going to have a family vacation.

Within the next seven months, I had not one but two wonderful family vacations.  I chose to go to tennis camps in Burlington, Vermont and Tuscany! If you start at the beginning of this blog, you can read about my trips.  Italy, especially, was a triumph.  Pictures of this adventure grace my bedroom walls and in the offices where I work.  When I look at them, I remember the richness of this time in my life...the beauty in yielding to the life I have been given and in letting go of the mourning of what has not yet come to pass.

How patient and kind God is with me!  I am like the Israelites in the desert...they longed to leave their captivity in Egypt, but then...they grumbled and complained in their journey to the promised land to the point of wanting to go back to Egypt!  I laid down my longings in order to celebrate my life as it is...but like a pendulum, I had swung too far.   The pain of unmet longing was too great to bear.  I began to give up my dreams in my heart. I resolved myself to singleness.  I didn't want to live in the tension of gratefulness and yet longing.  I told myself that the man who spoke into my life at twenty-five was just wrong.  He had not heard from God at all.

Thank God for friends and mentors who aren't afraid to speak truth into my life.  All through the years, I have always had wiser people around me to shake me and wake me up.  Someone dear to me challenged me about giving up...she challenged me to face the pain and stir up belief and trust again.  

Life seems to have a cycle and a rhythm to it.  I can go through extended time with not much change and then whoosh!  Change is happening all around me.  In the past two years, I have experienced the "whoosh!" My head is spinning.  So much goodness.  So many trials.  So many triumphs.

You are expecting me to tell you that I have fallen in love?  No...not yet.  Not with a man, anyway.  But my heart is open again.  My faith is strong.  It doesn't hurt anymore to hope.  Because I know that my hope is not empty, it is legitimate.  It is rational hope.  I am getting to know the Author of Hope better and I am trusting Him more.

I have lost two jobs in the past year, yet I am feeling more secure than ever. Feeling secure because my God is who He says He is.  Feeling grateful because my life is rich and full, even though there is no earthly Valentine again this year...no one to send me flowers or kiss me.  No one to hold me at night.

It just doesn't matter today.  My God is who He says He is and He will do what He says he is going to do.  "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."  Jeremiah 29:11  I am starting to believe that the man who spoke into my life at twenty-five may have heard from God after all.  Perhaps it has taken twenty-five years to prepare me for marriage...to prepare me to be part of a healing team.  Maybe it will take even more years.  I will choose to believe and hope.

So...what am I doing on Valentines' Day?  I am having a slumber party with three teenagers!  We are going to eat chocolate and watch chick flicks and share dreams.  We have been sharing life together for the past year. I have been mentoring them as best I can by sharing my journey with them.  They are the daughters I never had...so sweet.

I tell them not to grow weary in waiting on the Lord.  I tell them to think of me when they grow impatient... I am waiting but not passively so...I am living in the wait.  I am celebrating life in the wait.   I am not waiting for life to begin with that walk down the aisle.  

Well...actually...life did begin for me with a walk down the aisle.  It wasn't on a white runner with rose petals. It was crimson carpet.  This journey of mine began when I walked down the aisle of my Baptist church at nine years old, answering a call to give my life to God.  I remember the rapid beat of my heart as I sensed the Holy Spirit nudging me to leave my pew and walk alone.  I remember my mother's tears as I tugged on her coat to tell her I wanted to go. She said, "We will be leaving in a minute."  I said, "No, I want to go up there," and I pointed to the altar.  I remember I was wearing a red checked dress with white knee socks...a far cry from a wedding gown.  I walked alone, to the swell of the organ and the sound of voices singing.  I walked to the front and I stood. And you know what?  I am still standing.

This beautiful song, Accidental Road by Allen Levi is a theme in my life.  

More music by Allen Levi can be found HERE

Fresh Bread: No More Moldy Manna Part II

In my recent post I talked about life with one salad spinner.  It has been about 10 years since that season.  My salad spinner is wearing out...it just doesn't spin like it used to.  It may be time for a new one.

I have needed tune ups since that lesson with my dear friends.  My niece, Erin, also has superb organizational skills and in 2012 she visited and helped me purge more of my extra possessions. 

Here's the funny thing about possessions...you can get rid of all you want but if you keep bringing more home...you will end up right back where you started.  
Even though I didn't buy another salad spinner, I bought plenty of clothes, shoes, jewelry, and other sundry items that I didn't always need.  

I have found that the more stuff I have, the more time I spend caring for it, cleaning it, organizing it (or not and stepping around it).  Frankly, I am weary of this cycle.

In the process of lifestyle change, some things are trial and error.  Some habits die hard.  That doesn't mean giving up.  That just means it takes several tries to get it right...to move forward.  I hate to even use the phrase "get it right" because there is no perfection this side of heaven.  What I mean, is getting to a healthier place...a place closer to balance.  For people like me with "all or nothing" tendencies, that doesn't mean selling everything and living on the street.  It means cultivating a healthier relationship with my possessions and holding them loosely.  It means sharing my extras and thinking twice before I bring something new in to my home, "Do I need this?" and maybe, "What will I let go of in order to make space for this?"

I am finding myself in a new season of "letting go." It seems I must empty my life of certain things in order to make room for something better.  The process can be painful at times, but it is exciting, too.  This God I serve is wild and passionate and has a remarkable sense of humor.  I say "never" and He says, "Oh, really?"  Then I say, "Yes, please."

I had always heard that "things" don't provide happiness.  I believed it, to a degree, but I had to find out for myself.  It's true.  Totally true.  I like nice things...but they do not feed my soul.  Not one bit.  

There is nothing in this world that satisfies like pursuing God.  Nothing.  That is because He is my Creator.  He knows me better than anyone.  He created me for a purpose and for life that is truly life.  He designed me to reflect His glory and to be his hands and feet and voice during the brief days I am here.  May I continue to walk forward in to whatever He has for me.  May I continue to let go of anything that weighs me down.

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, 2 fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame,and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. 3 Consider him who endured such opposition from sinners, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.   Hebrews 12:1-3

Happy Birthday Momma

Here are three beautiful versions of the Doxology

 because I love the number three...

Father, Son , and Holy Spirit

Happy Birthday Momma.  The last time I saw you, it wasn't really you.  You had left your earthly shell, I am sure, and what was left was the body you had inhabited for seventy-six years.  There was so much peace in that hospital room. I sensed that it was a holy moment...that mysterious transition between this life and the next.  How does it happen?  What does it feel like?  You know.  You know now.

All I knew to do was to worship.  I sang the Doxology over your lifeless body.  

Praise God, from whom all blessings flow

Praise Him, all creatures here below

Praise Him above, ye heavenly hosts

Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost

AMEN

How many hundreds of times had we stood in our Baptist church and sang that song together, you and I.  You and me and Dad, too.  We sang after every offering.  We knew it by heart.  When I close my eyes, I can still hear us singing together.

How grateful I am that you faithfully took me to church!  I am so grateful for these precious memories.  I am grateful for all that I learned during those years. I am who I am because of it. I am who I am because of you.

I can hear your laughter, too, when I close my eyes.  It always made me smile. You even laughed when I threw a cup of milk in your face.  You were teasing me about putting a note on the bulletin board at church about the long underwear I lost at the winter retreat.  I thought you were serious.  I was so mad I just tossed that milk right in your face.  We were both shocked.  And then, you laughed.

Today is your birthday.  You would have been 86 today, had you stayed here.  I cannot believe that you have been gone ten years!  A whole decade in June. You have missed everything and you have missed nothing.  I wonder sometimes if you are a witness to our lives or if you are blissfully unaware of life here. Either way, you are the wiser.  You are where I long to be.  And heaven seems a lot more real and much closer now...