I will be with you

I have been thinking about today's date for more than a week now, remembering what happened two years ago in my life.  No, not a fun St. Patrick's day party!!  More sobering--I hit bottom after a slow landslide of tumbling finally found me at a place where I had no more hand holds, no more escaping the fact that fighting what was happening was useless.  I finally surrendered and faced the fact that I could not save myself from the inevitable...of letting go of what I had been trying to control.

As I watched my son's eczema go from bad to worse to awful--covering his whole body from head to toe--I could no longer pretend that all my efforts to find a solution were working.  And I had no more emotional or mental energy to continue to seek answers.  I was at the bottom of my resources, the bottom of myself.  As one counselor sat across from me a few weeks before, he blatantly said "You need to give up control."  As he said this I knew he was speaking truth, but his truth did not offer me relief.  It felt like a sharp knife going through my chest.  I had been living in a way of trying to fix my son's health, fix my own health, and try to avoid any new problems entering our lives.  We had made a big transition from life overseas to life in the states.  Moves like this are high on the stress scale, let alone any other stressors (namely my son's incurable health condition).  It was already a recipe for crazy making...but I had thought I could do it.  And try hard is what I did...and it drove me and to an unhealthy place of fear, panic, and finally a nervous breakdown.  

As I sat on the floor in my bedroom desperate for relief, I reached out to friends who loved me.  "Pray for me!!!" I texted whomever I thought would care.  I was searching for someone to fix me, to help me, to pray for me.  I was crying out for relief.  God save me!  Please, heal me.  Heal Noah!!!  Desperation.

It was in those moments that friends texted with love, assurance they were praying for me, and one friend shared verses of Scripture with me.  One verse struck me...not because it said "if you pray harder like this you will be freed..."  But because somehow it offered hope and comfort for my suffering...

Isaiah 43:2 "When you go through deep waters and great trouble, I will be with you. When you go through rivers of difficulty, you will not drown! When you walk through the fire of oppression, you will not be burned up—the flames will not consume you."

As I read these words I was reminded that He was with me, and that I could trust him to hold onto me.  He would not let the waters and trouble be the end of me.  There was nothing there about saving me from the floods all together--which I longed for.  It didn't speak of miraculous saving.  It spoke of a "being with" me.  But I wanted to be free of the suffering, to be free of the pain.  How could a "being with" be enough?!!!

But I clung to this verse as relief did not come quickly.  I went to the doctor, took meds, sought out a counselor who could help me (it took five tries!) and cried a lot.  I remember going to my son's 3rd grade mother's day tea and each child got up front to read about 10 things about their moms.  My son read "My mom loves to meditate."  I smiled, but inside I cringed.  I meditated because I longed for peace.  Each day I spent time lying on the floor in my room seeking peace.  Seeking freedom from the anxiety.  I didn't love meditation anymore than I loved anxiety.  But I was desperate.  My heart hurt as I knew I was incapable of being an active involved mom at this time.  I was barely functional. And how deep did my son have to reach to think of 10 things he loved about his mom?!!

The days and weeks and months built on top of each other and at one year I was at a much different place.  As March 17 came and went I could see the long hard road I had walked, and knew God's presence had been with me.  He had been with me through friends, through prayers, through counseling appointments, through my husband, through my children, and even in the silence.  I could see that God had been with me.  I had not drowned. I had not been burned up.  In fact, I was at a place where I could make decisions about how to live.  

And somehow a second year has gone by...and I am now standing at the two year mark.  Will St. Patrick's day always trigger an awareness of what happened two years ago?  I am not really sure...but this year I have approached this date with a sense of gratitude.  God was with me at the bottom, He never left me alone to find my way out of the suffering.  He has restored life to me.  He has brought healing into my life.  Through this dark journey I have discovered a deeper well of His love, His grace, and His "with-ness", light that is not overcome by darkness.  I have come to the bottom and discovered that He was with me through the "dark valley of the shadow of death..."  I still struggle with fears and with anxiety.  I still have bad days.  But I also am experiencing greater depths of joy and zeal for life.  I have a lightness in my heart that I didn't have before.  I find myself able to move towards "letting go" in those times of wanting to take up more control.  I feel a greater sense of openness to what life may bring.   God has helped me see that it is not about avoiding suffering, but about leaning into suffering...and thus surrender to One who loves me, and will never let go of me.  One who is with me in the suffering.

Fear not, for I am with you.

Do not be dismayed, for I am your God.

I will strengthen you and help you.

I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.

Isaiah 41:10

the struggle to trust

how do I know when it's time to make a big decision that will take us in new directions?  There is an invitation to step out into the unknown, and it's scary.  Part of me wants to say yes to adventure, the unknown, to practice faith.  But the other part of me wants to stay where it is comfortable, known, stable, sure.  How can I be sure we aren't crazy to leave what is comfortable and make a big decision to change things up?  I am asking myself these questions as I find myself on the edge right now.  For nearly three years we have created a comfortable home and life in Florida.  It was not an easy transition from life overseas, but slowly we found ourselves appreciating what life has to offer us here.  We enjoy the beach, our friends, our church, our home.  Why change things up?  Why not stick around and keep enjoying these things?
What is this tug at my heart?...
As I have been on a personal journey towards wellbeing I have found myself drawn to minister to others.  To encourage others on their own journeys.  To walk alongside others who are suffering.  To share what I have experienced with others.  Can't I do that here in Florida?  Sure...but for whatever reason I am not content here.  I feel a deep wrestling in my soul that says "step out..."  And it resonates in that deep place of longing.
But where there is excitement there is also fear.  As I lay in bed last night unable to sleep I found myself telling God "I don't want to go anywhere..."  Is that a bit like Moses?  God was asking Moses to go back to help free the Israelites from their bondage.  But Moses argued with God.  "I can't speak!!"  And God responded "so I'll give you a friend to speak for you.  You will tell him what to say."  God didn't let Moses off the hook easily, because this was what Moses had been created for.  From the very beginning of his life, God had a plan for Moses.
Right now I find myself in that wrestling match with God.  I feel the excitement of the invitation, but I feel the fear of saying yes to what all it will mean.  It will not ask only part of me, it will ask for all of me.
But when God invites us to step out and move towards him, it is a good thing.  He is for us, he is for life.  We are saying yes to love, to life, to surrender, to letting go...
I want to say yes.  And yet, I am still wrestling.  But ultimately, I want to trust that God is here even in the wrestling.  He is meeting me here, and continuing to prepare me for the ultimate surrender to what he has for me/for us.  And I believe that I will say yes.  But that doesn't imply there is no struggle.  Just as childbirth is struggle which brings forth life and beauty, I think many beautiful things come from the struggle.  Is it ever easy to step into trust?  Is it ever easy to let go and surrender?  But we do it because we feel something deep within us saying "yes, I want more than the predictable controlled stable life I am living.  I want to live a life of surrender and trust.  I want to experience the deep joy and love and life that God gives..."
Lord, have mercy on me, help me in my struggle to trust.  Be patient with me until I can say yes with my whole being.  May it be so.

a taste of love

When I lived and worked in Laos I was a part of leading retreats for young Lao women who had come out of the sex industry.  One day I was discussing with the retreat committee what our theme of the upcoming retreat should be...I said how about "Love".  I had been thinking about how unloved these women whose bodies had been used for all but love must feel.  And to hear they were loved by God a few times was not enough.  Why not take some time to really share with them how loved they are, and to meditate on God's wide, deep and endless love?  Even I was aware of how I struggle to feel loved and I've been hearing this message of God's love since I was a little girl...  But when I proposed this as the theme of our next retreat one of the staff quickly responded "We've already told them they're loved by God several times.  They should know that already."  I immediately sensed that this young woman did not know how loved she was either...it was a head knowledge but not a deeply experienced reality.  Love is something we can never be told enough...and to be told really is nothing compared to actually experiencing love.  Take a look at the state of our world right now... so much fear, so much hatred, so much anger.  Where does it come from?  Does a world that feels loved act like this?  I think NOT!!!  So I'm not trying to pick on this young woman who said the topic of love was too simple, but actually when she said it I thought to myself...she needs to know how loved she is!!  It's not a rational statement spoken a few times..."God loves you." Period.  No.  That is not going to do it for me, or for you, or for anyone.  I need to taste and see love.  I need to feel love.  I need to dive into love.  I need to run away from it and find that it follows me and never gives up on me.  I need to feel loved when I'm definitely not lovable.  How else will I begin to grasp how loved I am?...

the hard work of peacemaking

“You’re blessed when you can show people how to cooperate instead of compete or fight. That’s when you discover who you really are, and your place in God’s family." (the Message)


Where does peace start?  This morning my boys started fighting because the older one coughed on the younger one.  And then the younger one had to cough on the older one's face.  And then they started resorting to rude tones and words.  As a parent it's easy to get swept up into the tidal wave of anger and use anger to "stop" the fighting.  The parent chimes in "Stop fighting!"  And if you are anything like me, your tone gets louder and angrier as you repeat requests to stop.  (I have to admit that I have resembled a three year old in my parenting many times!)  Now everyone is angry.  And where will the peace come from?  Force?  "Say your sorry right now!!!"

In an effort to not step into the anger ring this morning I tried many different tactics (a bit of an experiment I guess) to see if I could model peacemaking.  Not because I'm that good, but because the verse "Blessed are the peacemakers..." (Matthew 5:9) popped into my head this morning like a breath prayer.  I wanted to see if the cycle of anger could be broken with the work of peacemaking.  But let me tell you, it was hard work to try to be a peacemaker.  My youngest was having none of it.  He avoided looking at me when I resorted to dancing to Enya around the living room.  Yes, I thought dancing to Enya might bring us some peace through humor and lightheartedness.  But his protests continued "he started it! he coughed on my face!"  I had made a comment that they each say something nice to each other before we left for school.  "He hasn't said anything nice to me yet.  I hate him!"  Yep, those were the words we were hearing thrown like missiles in our home this morning, while Enya played her sweet songs in the backdrop.  Whew.  It was hard not to respond with hot angry words.  Wouldn't it have been justified?  Sure.  But anger on top of anger...that is where war comes.  Our world has plenty of that.  How can I teach my boys to be peacemakers?

“You’re blessed when you can show people how to cooperate instead of compete or fight. That’s when you discover who you really are, and your place in God’s family." (the Message)

In the end we invited our older son to say something nice to his younger brother even though it was hard.  Even though there was no reason to choose to be nice to someone saying rude things like "I hate him!"  Even though everyone observing would say that the younger brother doesn't deserve any nice things said to him.  I shared that it takes courage and strength to be a peacemaker.  It's hard work to stop the cycle of anger...to spread peace.  Peace is easy when we are all singing kumbaya together around the fire.  It feels warm and fuzzy.  But to actively bring peace out into the hostile world...that is a courageous and hard thing to do.
Pete and I stood back and continued making lunches, and then I watched as the older one made his way over to the younger "I'm glad that you are a part of the family."  Wow, such a hard thing to say when the younger one has been saying such awful things like "I hate you."  I was in awe.  Could I have done that if it had been me in his shoes?  There have been plenty of times when I have not had the courage or desire to say anything nice to Pete.  I want him to say something nice first.
The room was quiet.  The younger one sat quietly.  Nothing.  No response.  Just quiet.  No more anger missiles.  Nothing.  As I watched I thought about how God made peace with us (and continues to do so).  I am like the younger son.  Angry, and justified in my anger.  But peace interrupts the anger.  It doesn't wait for the anger to subside.  It actively pierces through the anger, it abruptly comes in.  God extends peace to each of us even though we really don't deserve it.  He doesn't wait until I come to my senses before he acts.  Without intentional peacemakers in our world we will never know peace.

Peace takes courage.  It is hard work.  And that is why they are called blessed!

Peace.

gather 'round the table

One week before Thanksgiving I got an email from "Neighbor's Table" telling me that they would be delivering tables to the southeast region of the states...would I like one?  I had been wanting a big farmhouse style table for several years now, and had inquired about one when we first moved here.  However, the timing wasn't right.  And Pete said he would build me one.  Two plus years later and I read the email with a glimmer of excitement.  "Pete, what do you think?..."  He could see my excitement and this time he agreed to the idea.  But I wasn't sure if there was still time...I hadn't responded to the email immediately and several days had passed.  Would it still be possible to get a table?  I tried not to get my hopes up too much.  But within 24 hours of my first email I heard back that a table would be loaded onto the truck from Dallas, Texas and I would be the final stop on Wednesday night (the day before Thanksgiving).  Sarah (the one behind Neighbor's Table, and also the one to deliver my table) wondered if I'd like to put together a dinner party for Wednesday night...and she would love to stick around and eat with us.  A dinner party the night before Thanksgiving?!!  Pete and I decided it would be worth the chaos and stress of fixing another meal...a way to celebrate the arrival of my table.  And not just any table...a table that held meaning for me.  You see, I have come to see that one thing I have done whether living in Kentucky, Laos, Chiang Mai, or Florida is have people sit around my table and eat.  I love to bring people together.  I love connecting people, and to welcome people around the table.  Whether it's a birthday party or a holiday or just a weekend evening gathering, I love to share my home and life with my friends.  It's one way that I feel I can love others, and build community/relationships with others.  It's a great way to introduce people to each other and help them leave feeling like friends.  And Neighbor's Table is exactly this: a love mission.  The vision behind the table is gathering people, and loving people.  My heart says YES, YES, YES!!  And so I was super excited about the arrival of my table.  It was not "just a table".  It was a vision of sharing love, resources, space, stories, friendship, around food...around a table.  In the midst of a time when politics seem to be causing division, when we hear of fear and hatred, when we begin to feel despair over the condition of our country...I feel that I can offer my table as a place to bring people together.  To live out the Kingdom of God...a place where all are welcome.  None are turned away.  The invitation is open.  The invitation is love.  And no one leaves the table empty.  May my table be a place where many gather, and where our stories are shared, and where love grows.  Amen.

ready or not

Ready or not, here I come!! Words from our favorite game of hide and seek.  And true now as Christmas approaches.  IT's coming whether we are ready or not.  How are you making yourself ready for the holiday?  It's easy to get swept up into the commercialism side of Christmas...my boys have been telling me what they want for Christmas since Halloween (it seems).  And I've been annoyed to be honest.  I wish they didn't assume Christmas meant they could ask for the most expensive and longed for thing that they've laid eyes on since last Christmas.  I wish they were into the deeper meaning of the holiday...reflecting on the birth of Jesus, and what an amazing gift this little baby was to all of us.  BUT...they ARE CHILDREN!  So Lord, have mercy.  I will be buying my boys presents...
But seriously, we all have associations with Christmas that are not all "spiritual".  And I think that's okay.  It's a time of gathering with friends and/or family to share warmth, listen to Christmas songs, put up the tree and be enamored by the lights, drink hot mulled cider or hot chocolate, and do nice things for others.  These are good things.  These are even holy things.  I don't really like to separate what is "spiritual" and what is not.  I think it is all sacred and wonderful as we lean into each other, lean into God, lean into the empty spaces that we feel the rest of the year.  We long for community, deeper relationships, closeness.  And this is the time of the year that we feel freer to exhibit these emotions of delight, laughter, joy, even a childlikeness as we touch the ornaments and remember years past when we put these same ornaments up on our trees.  Christmas brings back memories.   Memories of childhood.  Memories of the birth of our first child.
I am not ignorant to believe that all the memories are good, or that all of you reading this have good associations with Christmas.  Perhaps some of you have closed your heart because Christmas carries with it bad memories.  Or maybe you felt disappointment with it as a child when the presents you wanted were never under the tree.  Maybe you don't see any reason to get joyous this Christmas season.  That's ok.
But that is where the simplicity of the first "Christmas" (I realize it wasn't really called Christmas y'all...) causes me to pause in awe.  A woman carrying a child that she had not been dreaming about before she got news that she was pregnant (she was just planning to get married!)...a woman who really wasn't "special" by any earthly means.  A woman who was not known by many.  In fact, when she and her husband came to Bethlehem on a donkey, no one was laying out the red carpet to welcome her in.  Nope.  She was told "sorry, there's no room here.  Move on." and probably she heard lots of annoyed sighs, mumbled phrases behind her back, or even doors closed.  She and her husband were nothing special.  They kept moving along, even with a very swollen belly that made moving along a slow laborious task.  But they knew they needed to find somewhere to lay their heads and welcome this little child into the not very welcoming world.  A world that needed hope.  A world that was in need of love.  A world full of fear.  And so they kept searching for a place that would be their place to give birth and life.  And finally, someone said "Yes, I have a small simple place for you.  IT's nothing much, but you can use it..."  And with no other choice, this simple woman and man entered into a humble place to give birth to a little child who was coming to bring hope and light to a world full of despair and darkness.
Does our world not feel similar even now?  In light of all the hatred and fear that we hear rumblings of on the news.  Does it not feel that we, too, are longing for hope and light and healing?  Are we not quite similar to the condition of the world then, when a little child was born?  And so I look around and wonder how I might make room for life and love and hope to spring up in my home.  Can I make room for people to gather around our table?  Is there room here for a little one to show us the way to heal and have hope?  Yes, Lord Jesus, we welcome you here.  We need one who can help us.  There is so much fear and hatred and hurt and pain in the world we live in.  Sometimes it feels like we have no way forward.  Sometimes it feels like there's nothing that will change it.  But we make room for you. We make room for hope, and light, and the birth of a little baby who came to show us another way.  Come, Emmanuel, come.

colors of autumn