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

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

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...

Do You Feel Empty?

There was a time in my life when I felt so empty.  And I felt guilty about feeling empty.  I am a Christian.  I am not supposed to feel that way, am I?  If I believe the God of the Universe loves me and I believe all the wonderful promises found in scripture, how could I feel so empty?

I am convinced it is because I had a warped view of life.  I believed some well meaning lies and took them to the extreme...that others should always come first.  I took it to the extreme...that others mattered more...that I must always defer to them...to their comfort...to not offend...to please...to bless...to have no regard for myself.

From time to time, the extreme became self-hatred.  Shame and despising who I am.  Well, there's a recipe for a happy life...why would I feel empty?  (this is sarcasm, in case you don't know)

Now I know the truth...I will have nothing to give to you unless I am full.  When I am full, I overflow.  I think of a pitcher of water at the sink, water pouring in and then flowing over the top of the brim.  

In the group I attend weekly at the Harris Y, we talk about lifestyle change and self-care.  More than once, we have reminded each other of this:  when you are on an airplane and the instructions are being given for the oxygen mask, the flight attendant always says, "Make sure you administer to the oxygen to yourself before you attend to small children or others needing assistance."  Why is that?  If I am empty of oxygen, I'll pass out and be good for nothing.  How can I help those needing assistance if I pass out from lack of oxygen?

Here's my favorite quote from Melodie Beattie's classic book, Codependent No More, "I saw people who felt responsible for the entire world, but they refused to take responsibility for leading and living their own lives."  

I am not responsible for the world.  I am responsible for me.  To some of you, this may be elementary.  For me, it has been life changing.  As I trust God to take care of the world and figure out how to take care of myself, I have become much better at overflowing.  The end result is that I am caring more for others around me.  I am relaxed and more fun to be around.  I am at peace.  I am full.

What does this look like practically?  For me, it means making time in my day to pray and acknowledge my need for God and His presence in my life.  It means reading the Bible or a devotional each day to remind myself of truth.  It means I learn to recognize my emotions are indicators of needs in my life and I find healthy ways to meet those needs.  If I am lonely, I plan time with a friend.  If I am tired, I get more sleep.  If I am hungry, I feed myself food that will offer nutrition to my body (most of the time!).  

It also means I begin to do things I don't necessarily "feel" like doing because I know that I will benefit in the end.  As a single woman, I need a sense of community.  I need a sense of family.  I must get outside of my home to develop that community.  My favorite place to do this is church.  In every church I have attended, I have made it a point to join a life group or Bible study.  It is important to continue to cultivate relationships...to receive from others and to "overflow" in to their lives.

We were never meant to be alone.  And no one person can satisfy all of our needs.  I am convinced that I need a variety of people in my life to be whole and healthy.  Good friends challenge me to become more than I am today. Hopefully, I challenge them right back.

It has been a long while since I felt empty.  It has been a long while (well over a year, maybe two) since I was physically sick.  I am convinced that this is because I make sleep a priority.  It is not that I haven't had stress in my life.  When I do go through periods of stress, I focus more on my body and spirit.  I go to work, I sleep more, I eat healthy, and I pray.  I only do more if I feel up to it.  As the stress passes, I can bring back more activity in to my life.  This has worked well for me.

Today, I am grateful for a full heart and peace.  I am full of hope, full of joy, and full of anticipation at what lies ahead.  More changes are in store, of this I am sure.  I feel that I have a toolbox full of wisdom and practical ideas from which to draw upon...no need for fear.  No need for confusion.  I go to the Source, I get full, I learn to care for myself...and hopefully...I will overflow to others.  It is my desire to be an encouragement to others.  And ultimately, to please my Lord and Savior.  All I really have to do, is continue to become who He created me to be: A woman who is full and overflowing...

28 “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. 29 Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. 30 For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”  Matthew 11:28-30

Dating at 49: Pick Your Poison

That’s what I feel like dating is like…pick your poison.  We have all been broken at one time or another.  Especially at 49…life has a way of beating us up.  Some of us have fought back.  Some of us have wrestled with God until we yell, ‘Uncle!” and surrender.  But even then, even then, we can grow spiritually and never grow emotionally.  Some of us have the wounds of little girls and little boys in our hearts.  Terrible, gaping wounds left by our parents who had their own gaping wounds.  Pain begets pain. 

I have viewed the pain in my life as God’s consuming fire.  When I broke up with a man that I once thought I would marry, 20 years ago, I cried and prayed as we said goodbye, “Oh, the fire hurts...but I want to be beautiful...and I don't want Him to stop until He is finished with me."  And 5 days later, in the same journal, I wrote, “God--I thank you for your goodness, your protection, your consuming fire in my life.  Burn away the impurities and make me shine like gold."

That was  April, 1993.  My first Internet-introduced date recently, this time around, was at a Pancake House.  We clicked immediately in conversation and had talked several hours on the phone for about 5 days before we met.  He had told me that he had a prayer ministry and a gift from the Holy Spirit in knowing things about people.  I asked him during our meal if God had told him anything about me.  At first he said no, then he quickly changed it to “yes.”  He said:

"God has told me that you have a heart of gold.  Do you know how gold is refined through fire?  You have a heart of gold that has been refined as through fire."

When I heard those words, it pierced my spirit.  I knew that those words were from God.  I said immediately, "I have been through many fires."  It wasn’t until the morning of November 17th, over 3 weeks later, that I thought  to find my journal from 1993.  There on the page, I read the words, “…make me shine like gold.”

Coincidence?  No, I have learned over the years to hear the voice of God, and I know that I know that I know that God was showing me that He has heard my prayers.  He is a God of detail.

The fire?  Oh, the fire has been many things in my life.  The fire has been years of therapy to get over toxic shame, legalism and self-hatred, years of sexless, touch less singleness and loneliness, Ovarian Cancer and chemotherapy, losing my reproductive system and mourning the family I never had, Endometrial cancer, losing my parents within 8 months of each other, job losses, friendship losses, the deaths of two “bonus moms.”  And the fire will continue to burn.  It will continue until I am Heaven-bound.  It will burn until the day that I receive my new body and I see my Lord.  Then “I will be like Him, for I will see Him as He is.” 

Dear friends, now we are children of God, and what we will be has not yet been made known. But we know that when Christ appears, we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is.  I John 3:2

This man with the gift of knowledge?  We are dating, but not exclusively.  I am mindful that he may have entered my life for no other reason than to give me a message from the Lord.  And I am seeing glimpses of why I may be in his life.  It may be for no other reason than to challenge him to grow in ways he has neglected.  I am direct like that.  God, help us!  

So the adventures continue…this dating game, this game of, “pick your poison.”  Nothing is ever simple in my life.  At this age, we are all wounded and battle-scarred.  The question is, what wounds can I live with?  And who will be able to love me "in spite of" the wounds in me...even if I do not change?


Addendum:  This post has really resonated with people in good and bad ways. More people have read this one post than any other I have written.  I have had some criticism from people who know me and love me.  The main criticism was a reminder that yes, I went through the fires and yes, at one time in my life I was broken and "stuck," but that is not who I am today.  Today, I am not stuck. God has revolutionized my life.  I am whole.  

I didn't mean to imply that I was permanently broken.  I do know that there is no perfection this side of Heaven and sometimes relationships bring up old wounds that need attention.  I want to encourage and empathize with those who do feel broken and stuck.  God will not leave you there.  What I have learned is that He always meets me more than halfway, but I do have to do my part.  My part has been seeking Him, entering into fellowship and accountability, seeking healing, and in some cases, doing the hard work that takes time and effort.

I am so thankful for all that God has done in my life.  Thank you for reading.

Purify my heart
Let me be as gold and precious silver
Purify my heart
Let me be as gold, pure gold
Refiner's fire

My heart's one desire

Is to be holy

Set apart for You, Lord

I choose to be holy

Set apart for You, my Master

Ready to do Your will

Purify my heart

Cleanse me from within

And make me holy

Purify my heart

Cleanse me from my sin

Deep within

BY:  Brian Doerksen

.

Happy Father's Day

Paul Lawrence Senior Picture

Dear Daddy,

I love that your favorite color was brown.  It’s because you were always a farmer in your heart…brown is the color of the earth.  Brown is the color of dirt, foundation, sun-drenched skin, worms, tree bark, mountains…it is simple and rich at the same time.  Like you.

You and I were so different in many ways.  As I grow older, I see that there are ways that I am more like you than I understood when you were here.  There are so many questions that I would like to ask you.  When I was mature enough to truly want to know you, you were already fading away.  You stopped knowing my name about 6 years before you left us.  It was too late to get my questions answered.

Maybe when we meet in Heaven, we will talk.  Maybe my questions won’t seem so important then.  Maybe then we will just enjoy each other.  That is okay, too.

Daddy and me, 1964

I didn’t find out until after your funeral that you were a football star at the same High School that I attended!  I would have loved to ask you about that.  When we cleaned out the house to sell, I found the clippings, which I still have to this day.  What other secrets did I not know?

When I asked you what attracted you to Mom when you first met her at that dance pavilion, you smiled and said you liked her tight sweater.  I laughed at your honesty.  But I know that there was more to the story.  A marriage of over 50 years is built on more than sweater size. 

Wedding Day November 29, 1952

I know that you loved her like no other and you trusted her completely.  You gave her your paycheck on Wednesday nights and you never thought about money afterwards…you never even wrote a check.  She was your finance manager and your household manager and you did not question her decisions.  She gave you an allowance for gas money and that was it.  That was all you needed.  Fortunately, for all of us, she was skilled at stretching a dollar and saving.  The house was paid off when I was 11.  We were never in debt.  You were a great team.

Paul, 14...Diane, 12...David, 10...Janice, 3

You weren’t a guy who wanted toys.  You didn’t care about the finer things in life.  You got socks and underwear for your birthday and Fathers’ day…sometimes a new tie for church.  (Okay, so on this point we are different!) 

I remember the only time I saw you spit-out food was when you first tried caviar on your 25^Th anniversary.  No, you were a sardine kind-of-guy.  (This drove my cat, Alexander, crazy.  Even though he was an outside cat, in the middle of winter he could smell the sardines when you would pop open the tin in the kitchen.)

You were tired when you came home from work.  When you were on the daytime shift, you would eat dinner and then soon fall asleep on the living room floor after the evening news.  In this, we are alike (except for the living room floor part).  When you were on the evening shift, you would be putting on your work boots on the front steps when I was coming home from school.  It was hello and goodbye.  You would have your brown bag “lunch” beside you on the step, probably a bologna sandwich and an apple packed lovingly by Mom.  Usually a couple of homemade cookies were in there, too.  Your favorites were molasses cookies.  Or if us kids had eaten all the homemade cookies, there would be Fig Newtons.

Old habits die hard...with granddaughter Stephanie

Our newspaper didn’t come until after you left for work.  It’s funny to think about now, but our town had an evening paper instead of a morning paper.  Mom would write notes to you on the top of the newspaper about anything that had happened after you left for work.  You would read her notes and the newspaper when you got home (long after we were all asleep) and then you would go to bed.  It was a regular thing…newspaper with mom’s notes to you at the top.  I wish today that I had kept one of them.  (Yes, I do have hoarder tendencies...I attach emotion to things that stir my heart.)

You were tired on “working” days.  On weekends, you spent as much time as you could outdoors.  You picked up sticks in the yard regularly.  You mowed and weeded and maintained two beautiful gardens.  We had fresh tomatoes, cucumbers, lettuce, cabbage, onions, peppers, potatoes, carrots, beans, strawberries, grapes, rhubarb, and raspberries!  We also had two apple trees.  This was normal for me then…I thought everyone lived like this.  I thought nothing of it.  Today, I am in awe of the bounty of your work and your farmers-thumb.  Mom canned and we ate from your gardens all year long. 

Stephanie and AJ and Grandpa's Garden

Watering the crops with Steph and Joey

Flowers were always planted around the house

Our time together was outside.  I would walk with you down the long dirt road to our neighbor, Clarence’s farmhouse.  Clarence lived there with his Aunt Minnie.  How I wish I had a picture of the two of them.  Minnie had arthritis bad and she wore housecoats with her rings pinned to them.  One day I complimented one of her rings and she took it off and put it on my finger.  It was a perfect fit, and it was my birthstone, a Ruby in a 10K gold antique setting.  I still have it to this day.  Minnie and I would sit on the old porch swing together and talk.  I was just a little girl but I sensed that Minnie liked my visits and I liked Minnie.  Give this girl jewelry and you have a friend for life!

Clarence and Minnie's before it was torn down

 

Clarence, your best friend (other than Mom), was quite a character with his farm clothes and suspenders, his round wire rim glasses (before they were popular) and his pipe extended from his mouth like a permanent fixture.  He had a huge old farm tractor with a mowing attachment which he used to trim the brush between our dirt road and his.  He had pigs and chickens.  I loved throwing apples that had fallen on the ground from his apple orchards into the pig sty and see them run (run as much as pigs can do) and squeal and grunt and swallow them whole.  I remember you taking me to the barn after piglets were born and you helped me up to see over the fence.  The huge mama pig was lying on her side with ten or so tiny piglets sucking their breakfast.  You were in awe of nature and you loved sharing it with me.  Just like when you trimmed our pine trees into gumdrop shapes and you would find a bird’s nest…you would wave me over quietly to show me the babies with their necks outstretched and their mouths opened wide, waiting for worms to be deposited.

Overgrown and abandoned

The very last time we saw Clarence's farm...

Where the pigs once lived...

I loved Clarence and Minnie’s ancient house with the antique stuffed velvet living room furniture covered in sheets and the main room’s stacks and stacks of National Geographic’s.  I don’t think Clarence ever threw one away.  I bet he shared them with you, Dad, because the one time my college friend and I played trivial pursuit with you, you knew the names of obscure rivers in Africa!  You whooped us good.  And you never went to college.  Why did I not realize before that you were an intelligent man?  You were so quiet and unpretentious.

I loved drinking the crisp, fresh water out of Clarence’s well with you in that old tin cup that he kept in the well house.  It was ice cold and the best water I have ever tasted to this day.   I loved walking through his orchards and hearing you tell me the names of the trees and leaves.  (We did this one time for my school project.)  I loved walking through the plowed cornfields and searching for arrowheads with you.  I didn’t make time for it very often, but if I wanted to be with you, that is where you would be.

I remember the day Clarence died.  He had been in the hospital for quite some time and we had visited him there.  I thought it so strange to see him in pajamas and without his hat and pipe.  Was it really him?  Days later, you were on the floor in the living room reading the paper and Mom came in the room to tell you that Clarence had died.  You stared at the ground and you were silent.  I wish now that you could have cried.  I knew that you were so sad.  You were taught not to show emotion and you were good at it back then.

Gum Drop Trees where many-a-bird was born

Winter Memories

I was happy for you when you retired from your job as a machinist.  You came full circle.  You were free to be outside as much as you wished and you chose to spend time helping your son, Paul, on his farm.  He had the life you might have chosen for yourself if things had worked out differently.  You never spoke words of regret.  You never complained.  I wish I had asked you about that, too. 

All 11 Grandchildren together...

  

You were always a good dancer, but you danced more after you retired.  You were more playful after you retired.  And as you got older, you had more of a sparkle in your eyes.  (Maybe it was always there, but I started really noticing it at that time.)  You were a fun grandpa for your grandchildren.  We all enjoyed your presence.  Do you remember that day when your grandkids were playing outside and and they wrote out in giant chalk letters on the cement, "the nicest man lives here!"? I remember.

Erin and Andy pretending Grandpa is a horse...

As your mind began fading, your playfulness increased.  Sometimes you would spontaneously begin dancing a jig.  One day, when asked why you were dancing, you replied, “I have grasshoppers in my pants!”

He was saying something funny...

My favorite memories of you were Sunday mornings in our Baptist church.  After I moved away and came home to visit, the times became fewer and more precious.  I loved hearing you sing.  You had amazing rhythm and timing as a dancer but you could not carry a tune for the life of you.  I loved hearing you sing because I believe that you meant what you were singing.  You were worshipping.  A lot of men who can’t sing simply don’t sing.  They stand in church and move their mouths as if they were singing, but they never sing.  You sang with your heart.  It was beautiful to me.  I think it must have been beautiful to God, too.  I remember one of the last times I heard you and Mom singing and I knew that time was rushing by and that soon there would be no more Sunday mornings in church with you and Mom.  I am grateful that I understood that and I cherished the moment.   I heard you singing one of my favorite contemporary worship songs, “...This is my daily bread…” I took a snapshot with my heart.  When I close my eyes, I can hear you. 

I love you, Daddy.  I love you even more now than I was able to back then.  I appreciate you more now.  I didn’t think I wanted an “ordinary” life like yours.  I thought there was something more glamorous out here for me.  I didn’t see that your “ordinary” life was quite extraordinary.  You were like your favorite color brown…simple and rich.  I didn’t know that the two went together.  But you did.  You lived it. 

One of the last Father's Days we shared

Breathe

Written By Marie Barnett (sung by Michael W. Smith and many others, including Dad and Mom and me)  

This is the air I breathe
This is the air I breathe
Your Holy presence living in me

This is my daily bread
This is my daily bread
Your very word spoken to me

And I, I'm desperate for you
And I, I'm lost without you