love song

in the stillness you are there

Five years ago I sat having coffee with an older wiser friend.  I had been sharing my struggle with anxiety and expressing my longing to be free (hoping that maybe she had an answer for me).  I don't remember much of our conversation that day, but one sentence she said stood out.  I can still remember the words now, and I have reflected on them and what they meant many times since then
"Lori, your heart is noisy."
My heart is noisy?  What does that mean?  I really pondered this and wanted her to explain.  She didn't have much explanation.  And her words came from a deeper listening, a listening to God and what he was wanting to speak to me (but that I couldn't hear...because my heart was too noisy)

Be still and know that I am God

Our world is full of noise.  Everywhere we go our ears pick up conversations, children crying, parents yelling at their children, cars driving by, an ambulance, phones dinging, and then there is the subtler but VERY LOUD noise in our lives...social media, Facebook, news.  The messages that we are hearing everyday, from the time we wake up until we go to bed at night.  The thoughts that go through our heads.  Noise inside.  Noise outside.  Noise within us.  And sometimes sleep doesn't come to relieve us because the noise in our heads is so loud and we don't know how to turn it off.

We cannot escape noise.  It will always be around us.  So what does it mean to have a noisy heart?   A noisy heart is our response to the noisy world.  It tells us to be afraid, do more, be more, "you are not enough"...
a noisy heart is a heart full of fear

It took many more years for me to begin to really let go.  I don't think anyone lets go easily.  Until our hands and hearts and lives become so full and we are weary and desperate, letting go is not our go to. Instead we think "maybe I will try this, or buy this, or do this...and things will get better" only to discover we are even more tired.  It might work at first, but then we discover now we have something new to deal with.
more is not better
more is not the answer
What is?

be. still.

In 2015 I had a nervous breakdown, or whatever you want to call it.  Whatever it was...it was scary.  I had been trying to fix my son's health.  I had been working hard to figure out what was at the root of his health issues.  I was in major control mode.  Fear mode.  Noisy heart? YES!  And finally the weight of it all came crashing down on me "I can't do this anymore!!!!"  I heard myself say.  I was mad at God for not healing my son.  I was frustrated that I couldn't figure out how to heal my son.  And it was TOO heavy for me to carry.  And so I fell flat on my face, truly flattened by the weight of it all.

be. still.

When you are anxious and full of fear it is nearly impossible to be still.  I know because when anxiety was filling every extremity of my body I could barely sit still long enough to finish a meal with my family.  I would eat fast and then have to stand up and busy myself with dishes, or pacing or doing something.  I could not sit peacefully.  My whole being was revved up.  And yet I was very tired.

be. still.

So so noisy.  So so tired.  I was truly desperate.  I longed for healing, for freedom, for peace.  I had no  more resources of my own to draw from.  I called out to God in desperation.  "Help!"  It was not an instant relief.  But in the stillness, God was there.  He began to show me just how near and present he was.  And just how loved I was.

in the stillness I am there

God met me.  Slowly.  Patiently.  Lovingly.  And that was the beginning of my journey towards a quieter heart.  A heart that was desperately wanting to rest.  A heart that was so weary it felt it might break.  A heart that had holes in it, leaked out its life...  But this was only the beginning.  God is not pushy.  He will not force us to learn something we are not ready for.  He does not yell at us like an angry parent.  He just waits.  Waits for the noise to crash down, our own attempts to come to a empty halt, and then we notice...in the valley of the shadow of death...He is there.  Quietly, confidently, unfailingly...He is there.  And as we quiet down, like a child that is finally allowing his mom to comfort him...we hear something new.  It is not like the noises in our world.  It is sweet.  It is gentle.  It is kind.  It is his love song.  He is singing over you.  Singing over me...a love song.

The Lord your God is with you. He is mighty to save you.
He takes great delight in you. 
He quiets you with his love.  
He rejoices over you with singing.
(from Zephaniah 3:17)


be. still.
let me sing over you
your heart will be healed
fear will no longer linger
your heart will be free
rest in my arms
as I sing this song over you
my delight is in you
be. still. and. know.
beloved child of mine
rest

ode to 41

happy birthday to me.
what's so special about 41?  it's not 40, it's definitely not 21.  no...it's 21 PLUS 20 more!!

but i still get excited when it's my birthday, and i'm not letting 41 stop me from my childhood anticipation of a birthday.

so happy birthday to me, even 41! I will not pretend to be younger.  I will celebrate another year.  getting older is seen as scary.  but me, I want to embrace it.

I found my first grey hair at 20.  I pulled it out.  No! I don't want to be old.  But there it was, beckoning me, taunting me, reminding me that getting older is....ummm, natural.
so why fight what is natural?
celebrate it
celebrate me
celebrate life

here I am at 41 feeling young inside.  so much goodness has happened in my life these past few years
I have found myself.  I have shed off some of my false layers.  Like a facial to the soul.  I feel freer. Lighter. Happier.  YES! happier.  how can that be?  I'm 41 you say.  Nope, 41 is a good number.  It's my number today.

So go ahead and wonder, is she going crazy? maybe age is getting to her early.  maybe she had a little too much to drink.  You can wonder.  But I know.  I am 41, and it's ok.  I'm 41 and it's not a day too old.  Today I am soberly happy.  And I don't mind telling you, or anyone, that it's truly good to be aging.

And grey hairs?  YUP, I got WAY TOO many to pluck on this birthday.  They are sparkling in the sunlight.  Not even hidden by color.  Just there to remind me, I'm not going backwards in my age.
Nope...just forwards.

So, happy birthday to me.
Happy birthday to the one I know best.  Me.
And I am happy to be alive.  Happy to be me.  Thank you for bringing me this far.
Happy birthday Lori!

too quiet

Pete and the boys decided to linger in the Bahamas for a few days longer.  The original plan was that I would cross back with them on the weekend, after two weeks of island life.  The weather looked good for our family's crossing...and then the boys got an invitation they could not pass up.  A friend who was in the Bahamas invited them to stay and do a boys' spear fishing trip.  Instead of crossing back on our boat together, I would fly home and they would jump aboard their friends' boat.  Two dads and four boys.  No room for moms.  My friend and I flew home to have a few days to ourselves.  Sounds luxurious, right?!!  When I told a friend that I would be home alone for a few days, she responded "what I wouldn't give for that kind of time alone in my house!"  I found myself feeling the opposite.  I was actually feeling anxious about the idea of being home in our house alone for 4 days. While I am an introvert and enjoy space, it sounded like way too much space for me.  What would I do with all that time?  How would I not fall into a dark place of loneliness in that time?  What I be ok?  I said yes to the boys, because I knew it would be an opportunity they may never be presented with again...but I braced myself for the loneliness that awaited in our home.
Once I arrived home, I found the first few days to actually be a gift of time.  The first two days passed quickly as I dove into art projects and reading.  And then I got a text from Pete..."it looks like we won't be home until Sunday, the weather isn't looking good to cross on Wednesday."  Four days alone was one thing...but four more days alone?!!!  And they wouldn't be home until late on my birthday?  It was hard for me to swallow this information.  Hard to be ok with the idea of four more days of...quiet.
As I sit and write this, it's the day before they come home.  Somehow, I have been ok--even good.  I have found projects to do.  Rooms to clean.  Books to read.  Friends to spend time with (lots of girl nights!).  But the loneliness has crept in when I come to the end of a day.  I have had moments where I haven't really known what to do with myself.  Do I read now?  Do I go shopping even though I really don't need anything?  Do I clean the house?  Do I use my time for something fun?  With all this space and time I have way too much time to entertain "what should I do?" than I am comfortable with.  It feels easier to be told what to do, dictated by circumstances, needs of others, than to face the question of "now what?"
This morning I woke up with the gnawing awareness of boredom...or is that loneliness?  I felt annoyed at Ruby (our puppy) for whining and demanding attention that I wasn't in the mood to give.  I made myself coffee as I faced yet another quiet morning to myself.  I should be thankful I told myself!!!  But that is not how I was feeling.  I went upstairs to continue my major cleaning project in the boys room.  As I sat there I was very aware that something was blocked inside me.  All I had felt so far was annoyed at my needy dog who was demanding way too much emotional energy that I did not have to give her.  It started to sink in...I'm needy.  I need attention.  I...am...lonely.  As I allowed myself to say these words, tears came.  Yes, that is it!  I'm lonely.  But in that moment I knew the answer was not to rush and call someone or find a person to be with me.  I just needed to let myself acknowledge my deep loneliness.  And as I noticed this, to make it a prayer.  "God, I feel lonely."  And I could sense his response.  "I know, and it's ok."  The tears, and this silent moment was all I needed.  Somehow it freed me to be able to go downstairs and take my dogs on a walk--and to not feel so annoyed with them.  Because I am needy.  I need to know I am loved, I am known, I am not alone.  But in order to know this, I have to acknowledge what I am feeling.  It's not about making the feelings go away, or ignoring them, or minimizing them.  It's simply about making space to notice what's there.  To be honest with myself.  I think it was a relief to be able to say "I am lonely" without feeling judged or condemned or weak or "what's wrong with you?"  Just a "yes, I know, and I am here with you."  Somehow admitting how I feel makes it seem less threatening, and less of a problem to fix.  It's ok to feel lonely.  It's normal to feel lonely.
And yes, when the boys get home tomorrow evening I am going to miss the quiet. haha!