From WHY God to PRAISE God! (Abraham Moment #2)

Over the years, God has always been a constant presence in my life.  For the most part I have never waivered away from my walk with God, but like most, I have had times when I have wandered a little further away from my relationship than what I should have.  Times when my walk with Him was in name only and not so much in action.  On the other hand, there have been many times when my walk has been so powerful and close that it was as 2nd nature to me as breathing.  So my walk has had it’s highs and lows.  I can honestly say that the lows were always my own doing, and the highs were completely God’s doing.  Sometimes it took God to completely shake up my world to get me to realize just how much I needed him and other times, it was a gradual decline, until one day I would realize how far I had gotten away from Him and then gradually work my way back into that day to day, minute to minute relationship.

I want to share with you about one of those times (and when I say times I mean the year or more that it took me to get on track!!!) because again, it is one of those Abraham moments that I have had in my life – even though I didn’t necessarily recognize it as such when I was walking through it.

I know I have shared this story before, but it is such a defining moment in my “mid-life” that it has really shaped me into who I am today.

As both my kids entered into elementary school, the thought about “what I would do with my life” started to develop.  I knew I would have my days free and with two growing kids, Keith & I came to the realization that I would in fact have to get back into the work force.  Before children I was working at Red Rock Bible Camp as the office manager which I did for 7 years after we moved to Steinbach, due to Keith’s accident.  (You can read about that journey here.) When I left the camp ministry in 2001, we had made application to adopt and subsequently ended up having two precious miracles added to our lives.  Taylor through adoption, and Peyton by a surprise birth. So for about 7 or 8 years I had not been working outside the home, and when it came time to get back into the workforce I was petrified!!

Step in ... God!  Through a couple conversations with people, I was encouraged to see if there were any job openings at the Preschool that both our kids had attended, which was run by the church we were attending.  Long story short, I got accepted and jumped back into the world of working for pay!  I spent several wonderful years at the preschool resulting in some amazing friendships with the ladies I worked with, and relationship with kids who I still have contact with to this day!  However, in the back of my mind was the thought that I would one day love to return to camping ministry.  That was something God had placed on my heart many years ago, and I just assumed that is where He would ultimately have me end up.

In June or 2012, my sister Wendy had come to visit and I was showing her around Steinbach.  I took her to the preschool and introduced her to my friend and director there, and on our way home, drove by the Red Rock office to show her where I had worked before we had kids.  I told her that day, “In my dream world, I would get to go back Red Rock and be the office manager there again.”  I loved my job at the preschool, but just thought God would take me back to camp.  We headed back home, and so I went to my office and checked my emails, and to my shock, there was an email from the Director at the camp letting all the alumni know that the Office Manager position would be available that fall.  I was stunned!!!  Shocked!!!  I couldn’t believe I had just shared this with Wendy, and not more than 5 minutes after voicing it to her, I found out that the very position which I had been dreaming about was in fact available. 

I can tell you, my stomach was in knots!! Was this a sign?  Should I follow my dream?  But I had a perfectly wonderful job at the preschool that I loved.  With people I loved working with! Why would I leave it?  So I prayed. Keith prayed. And we had several other people pray with us for a week to really be open to where God was leading me.  Yes, it was my dream.  But was it God’s direction?  After a week of praying and seeking counsel, Keith & I decided that I would approach Kim, the camp director, to let him know that I would be interested in returning to the office manager position.  I had worked for Kim during the seven years previous, not to mention that he was a close friend, so I was pretty excited to tell him that I was interested.  In the end, I was accepted back to the position, with training to start that summer.  It was not easy letting go of my teaching position at the preschool, and the thought of the job not going well at the camp was one of my biggest fears.  What if I was letting go of a job I loved at the preschool, only to have this new one fail?  But I clung to the knowledge that we had prayed through the decision, as had the camp, and so we trusted that this was all a part of what God would have for me.

During the month of July, I started retraining for the office manager, and quickly realized that things were not the same as what they had been when I to be when I had worked there.  SO much had changed in the 10+ years that I had been gone!  But I forged ahead, quickly realizing that I was also very different than I had been 10 years ago.  Within a month I realized that I did not handle stress very well!  And the job was much more difficult than I had anticipated!  The changes that the camp had gone through were much bigger than I thought and nothing seemed the same.  After several weeks, I began to wonder why God had allowed me to get this job, when I so evidently was failing at it.  I began to doubt Him.  The stress and anxiety I felt was overwhelming.  I would come home at nights and sink into bed and cry.  I was unable to sleep, eat, or care for my family.  And my relationship with God became a series of cries WHY GOD?  After 3 months of trying to make things work at the job I had dreamed of going back to, of the job I was SO SURE God had led me to, for my own health and that of my family, I had to quit.  I was devastated.  The worst-case scenario that had gone through my head four months earlier was now playing out in my life.  I couldn’t believe it.  I couldn’t believe how God had let me down.  I had sought His direction.  I had prayed about it – more than any other decision in my entire life.  And here I was.  Broken.  A failure.  A mess.  Forsaken by God. 

For several months, I spiraled into a deep depression, struggling with anxiety, panic attacks, sleeplessness, suicidal thoughts etc. and many, many awful months of despair.  These were some of the darkest awful days and nights of my life. 

At one point, I just felt I couldn’t go on.  It was not worth it.  God had abandoned me.  And it was better off for my family, if I wasn’t there.  I was of no use to them anyway.  And the very thing that I had done to follow God – seeking Him out in my decision – had failed me. 

It was at some point during these dark days that Keith had shared with his boss about what I was going through.  Because the truth was, Keith had prayed those same prayers of direction from God, and this is where it had ended.  Thankfully His boss (an amazing Godly man!) shared with Him an incredible concept that changed my life.  And still does to this day.  He said, “God calls us to obey Him.  And that’s all.  If you obeyed Him, then leave the rest to Him.”  I had obeyed God, and slowly I started to realize that I had had my own agenda for God.  Today, I don’t doubt for a moment that I was supposed to be at Red Rock for those few months.  You see, God had bigger plans for me. 

I had taken my Abraham step.  BUT I thought I knew where God was going to take me.  I thought I had God all figured out.  I thought that by obeying God and following His direction, I would live out my working days at the camp.  However, that was not God’s plan.  I followed His prompting.  BUT I created my own agenda for God.  What I didn’t know at that time was that God was preparing me for bigger things.  Things that I would NEVER have been able to do without stepping away from the Preschool.  And God knew that the only way I would be able to make the decision to leave the preschool was for me to go back to what I thought my dream job was.  And the only way I would ever be able to let go of what I thought was dream job was, was to let me go back into it to realize that the job was not the same as when I’d had it 10+ years earlier. 

All because God had a different plan for me.

God wanted me to be a piano teacher! 

And I can honestly say that if I had stayed at the preschool, I don’t think there is any way I would have left that job to become a piano teacher.  God needed to take me through those necessary dark days, those difficult moments, to bring me to the moments of joy that I get to experience with my piano students every week.  The music that I get to help bring into the homes of my piano students is so fulfilling and joy bringing to me!  And I would never have been able to do that if I had not taken that initial step of following God’s prompting to leave the Preschool.  Granted in this story, I kinda made it about my steps after I sought God, but in the end, He helped me to see that He had bigger things for me.  He knew the joy that would fill my days listening to students’ music, but also being able to listen to their stories about their days and being able to bring a smile to their hearts and days after a tough school day, or a difficult morning.  These are all things that God brought me to because I took that step of obedience.  That Abraham moment.  God got me to take that first step.  And it was painful.  It was incredibly sad letting go of a dream of going back to camp.  I spent many tough, dark days after that Abraham moment.  But once again, God blessed it.  And thankfully, God has given me brighter days.  Days filled with children’s laughter.  Days filled with music.  Days filled with JOY! 

I am often reminded about the nugget that Eric shared with Keith all those years ago.  Obey God.  And let HIM do the rest.  If we are obeying God, then we need to leave the results up to Him.  Things won’t always go the way we expect.  It may hurt.  It may hurt a lot.  It may get dark.  BUT, armed with the knowledge that God was in it?  We do not have to doubt that He will take us through it to something beautiful.

Broken to Beautiful (Abraham Moment #1)

So….. I have been wrestling with getting back into writing this blog, and particularly struggling somewhat with sharing what’s been on my heart.  This past Sunday I was praying that I would have a very clear direction as to whether or not I should go ahead and share my story and believe it or not, Pastor Kent made a small but poignant statement in his sermon this Sunday “If you have a story, SHARE IT!”  I could not argue with that! So I hope you will bear with me as I venture down some rabbit holes to get to the main story that I want to share with you.

Although, having decided to share it, I still had no idea how to jump into it.  You see, our family has been on a crazy journey this past year and while I do want to share with you how God has worked and done more miracles in our lives, it is a journey that is difficult to share and put into words.  (This will be part one of ?)

So, I think I will go back many years and start there.  Because long before this past year happened, God had already been working in me and showing me things about Himself that I needed to know and experience to help me through the waters I was supposed to walk through years later.

Over the years, there have been a handful of times that I remember God speaking very clearly to me.  I wouldn’t say they were audible, but times where I could not dispute that it was God’s calling or nudging me forward to do something.  I can honestly say that without a doubt they were always things that I truthfully did not want to do, but that God was very clearly pushing me through.

The first time was when I was 18 years old.

What some of you may not know is that growing up I came from a pretty strict home.  Dating was not an option for any of us, and so when a boy I liked, approached my parents to see if he would be allowed to take me out on a date, I was terrified.  I was SURE my parents would say no but I guess since I was in my grade 12 high school year, with plans to complete Grade 13 (something Ontario students had the option of doing back in the 80’s) my parents didn’t see the harm in it (or more than likely, they just gave in!! LOL)  He was a Godly boy whose family knew our family and so I think my parents felt comfortable knowing they knew him and the standards he and his family held.

After dating for over a year, I was making plans to head to Bible College in Saskatchewan.  I was very much in love, but planned to go to Bible College and head back home the next spring to plan my future.  A few months before I left for Bible College I started to wrestle with a thought God was placing in my mind – that the future that I was planning with my boyfriend was not what God was planning for my future.

The previous summer, I had been sponsored by Conestoga Bible Camp to attend a Leadership Training Camp at Bark Lake Leadership & Conference Center.  While I was there, I had one of the most profound encounters with God in my whole life.  My friend Roxanne and I had been sitting outside under rain ponchos during a thunder and lightening storm.  This Leadership Camp was not a Christian camp and by the time this storm happened, she and I were incredibly lonely and were missing our families, friends and Christian connections very much.  So there, in the pouring rain, with thunder pounding and lightening flashing, we sang How Great Thou Art and worshiped God like I have never experienced again.  It was an incredible spiritual experience for me, one where I could almost tangibly feel the presence of God.  After that Leadership camp experience, I felt so strongly that God was calling me to do camp ministry.  Once the summer was done, I pushed that feeling aside, and proceeded to complete my Grade 13 year.  However, during that year, the feeling that God was calling me into camp ministry did not subside. In fact, it got increasingly stronger.  Of course, during this time, I was also growing in my relationship with my boyfriend, who I knew did not have this same calling.  In fact, he very much felt God calling him to work with his home church, to grow, nurture and lead that church.  I remember chatting about my struggle with him, but since we were both heading to separate Bible Colleges, didn’t spend a lot of time exploring it. In my own mind, I knew I was in love with him and wanted to spend the rest of my life with him, but also knew that we seemed to be on two separate paths as to where God was calling us.  Once settled into Bible College, the draw to camp ministry continued to get stronger and stronger and it was shortly after my 19th birthday that I couldn’t ignore what God was asking of me.  Will you choose Me (God) or choose what you (Sharon) want?  I can easily say that this was one of the most difficult decisions I have ever made in my entire life.  Knowing I was breaking hearts, my own included, to follow a direction that I knew God was calling me to but feeling like I was giving up everything I wanted and loved.  I agonized for many days over what I knew God was calling me to do, but what my heart didn’t want to do.  And I can say this was one of my first Abraham moments in my life.  Listening to God’s calling to do something I honestly had no desire to do, nor any understanding of in that moment.  And I can say that breaking up with my boyfriend was one of the most difficult things I’ve done.  And truthfully, there were many, many times after that, that I questioned God.  I knew I had made the right decision, but I knew I was devastated and other than knowing I was doing what God had asked of me, there was no “amazing light moment” or endless joy after making that decision.  Obviously looking back on that, I can see how God was prompting me to follow Him because the 12+ years I did spend involved in the camping ministry at Red Rock Bible Camp would never have happened.  I would never have met my husband.  I would never have my two beautiful miracle children. And the list goes on.  But I can tell you in the moment, I could not understand God. I could understand the pain I was feeling.  The grief and loss of the dreams I’d had.  And yet, I had chosen to follow His prompts.

But what this all boils down to is that when God tells us to do something, we need to follow His prompting.  He hasn’t promised that it will be easy.  He hasn’t promised it will be all smooth.  He hasn’t even always shown us what’s at the end.  But I can promise you that it will be worth it.  Oh, the pain was awful.  And the grief I felt about giving that relationship back to God stayed with me for years.  The guilt I felt at times was consuming.  But God honoured my decision to choose Him.  And while I didn’t know why at first?  Over the following years, He showed me that He had indeed called me to camping ministry.  And the decision I made to follow Him at the expense of my own desires, proved that God was and is faithful.  That God is in control.  That God is sovereign, and He sees and knows the bigger plan.

So, this was my first real “Abraham Moment” that I have experienced, and I can’t wait to share more with you.  They all lead up to where God has been taking me/our family to this year, and how yet again, God proved to me that when I just do as He asks, as painful as it is perhaps in that very moment, that He is there, and He is beside me the whole time.  And He brings the joy at the end. It might not always look the way I had envisioned it to look. But He brings me to the place that He wants me to be my best at.  Sometimes those journeys are painful.  Sometimes they might not seem like they have an end.  Sometimes we might not know "the why" for years to come.  But I can promise that no matter what. . . NO MATTER WHAT. . . being in God's will. . . following His prompting is worth it.  no. matter. what.

Deuteronomy 4:39

Know therefore today, and take it to your heart, that the LORD, He is God in heaven above and on the earth below; there is no other.

Silent Saturday

Today is the middle day of Easter.  Saturday.  The day that very little is written about it but so much must have gone on.  I am trying to imagine what it must have been like on that Saturday.  For the disciples.  For Mary – Jesus mother.  For Jesus Himself.  For Satan.  For God the Father.

Can you imagine the disciples?  Here the man they had followed for the last several years, who claimed to be their Messiah – the long awaited one – was now dead.  He’d been killed and while Jesus Himself had predicted this, I cannot imagine the agony and disbelief they must have felt.  The day after.  They must have been angry.  They must have felt deceived.  I bet they questioned every little thing they had heard Jesus tell them and yet wondered at all the signs and miracles He had performed.  Did they believe His message?  Were they trying to reconcile in their own minds that Jesus was the Messiah but now He was gone?

What about Mary?  I can only try to imagine the agony she must have felt at loosing her son.  Beyond the fact the He was the Son of God.  Her baby.  Her first born gone.  Yes, I believe she understood who He was.  I believe she got – likely more than most – that He was the Messiah.  The one who had been promised so many years before.  But to her, Jesus was her boy.  Her baby.  Her cherished child.  And now he was gone.  Did she believe that He would be resurrected?  I can imagine that she would have believed that in the end Jesus would have been spared death.  That if He truly was the Son of God that He would be spared the brutality He experienced.  That in the end despite that brutality, death would not touch Him.  But she witnessed with her own eyes her son’s death.  She saw His limp body being taken down off the cross.  She knew he was gone.  The agony she must have felt on this Silent Saturday!!!

And what about Jesus?  Jesus was in Hell.  He was experiencing the agony that we should experience.  He was going through everything that we would have had to go through, except for the fact that Jesus was taking it on Himself.  I really don’t know and can’t even begin to imagine what He was going through after His death.  I don’t know enough about Hell to try to conjure up images of what Jesus was enduring.  But I know enough to know that it was awful.  For the Son of God to go through what He was.  For me.  For all of us.  What love.  What agony.  But what a gift!!! 

And what about Satan.  I think He must have been beside himself with delight.  In his mind he had conquered God.  He had finished what he set out to do – by destroying Jesus.  He must have been ecstatic.  Probably sitting back in disbelief thinking how on earth did I accomplish this?  What now?  I’ve done what I set out to do?  He must have thought that he was now better than God because he had taken down God’s Son.  What a fool.  What a mistake.  What complete failure!!

And for God the Father. . . Watching His Son be brutalized and die.  And then know the most awful thing He was enduring – Hell.  To know that He allowed Jesus to go through all that suffering and to experience Hell because Jesus loved His people so much.  I often wonder – how much more God the Father must love us.  Because He ALLOWED Jesus to sacrifice Himself for US – for ME.  I sometimes try to imagine the conversation between the Father and Jesus.  When Jesus said that He wanted to die for us.  What must God have said?  NO WAY!!!  They made their own mistakes.  They need to pay for their own sins.  You’ve done nothing wrong.  I imagine Jesus pleading on our behalf with God.  Telling Him just how much He loves us and how He didn’t want us to have to go through the torture of Hell and how He wanted to take that on for us.  I imagine what love God had for Jesus and what love He must have for us to allow His Precious Son to go through the torture and ultimate depths of Hell – for me.  For us.  And on that Silent Saturday.  As He thought on the agony that His Precious Son was going through.  He knew Jesus would rise again and be with Him, but He also knew everything that Jesus was taking on for us.  I can’t imagine the anguish God the Father must have been feeling for us.  (I realize I am humanizing God and trying to put human qualities on a God that cannot be humanized.  Please forgive me if you find that offensive.  I am only trying to understand – something I never will fully be able to do on this side of Heaven – what transpired that day.)

 

So on this Silent Saturday, I sit staring up into the cold blue sky thinking about that day.  Thinking about what all transpired on that Saturday between Jesus’ death, and His resurrection. Thinking of what that Saturday must have been like for all involved.  Thinking about the agony, the despair, the awfulness that must have been experienced on that day.  And I wonder.   This all happened for me.  This all started because Jesus loved me so much.  I am the reason.  I am the one Jesus loved so much that He was willing to go through all of it.  I am the one that God saw and said “Yes.  I am willing to let my Son die – for her.”  What a gift.  What a treasure.  What amazing grace.

So on this Silent Saturday.  What will I do with this gift?  What will I do with this grace?  What will I do with this treasure Jesus has gifted to me?  Will I honour Him?  Will I give my Life back to Him?  Will I boldly share with others about this gift that they too can receive?  On this Silent Saturday, I challenge you to take a look at your life, as I am doing today, to search silently within the quietness of your own heart and see if yours is right with Jesus.  See if what you are doing brings glory and honour to the One who laid down His life for you. 

“Be Still and know that I am God.”  On this Silent Saturday, lets think about what Jesus did for us, and what we can do for Him.

May you have a blessed Easter as you contemplate what this Gift means to you!!

Heaven on my Mind

Recently, I've been struggling through some dark places again.  Thankfully not the deepest darkest ones, but dark none the less.  Anxiety/depression is a weird thing.  That most certainly is something I have realized.  Just when you think things have turned a corner, and life might be a little different, you get hit again, with the realization that this is something I will struggle with constantly.  And no level of meds. or Scripture reading will ever make it go away.  (Thankfully both of those thinks help me walk through those times, but they don't erase them.)

Having lived far away from my family for the last 32 out of 50 years, I have often gone through times, where I desperately wanted to move back to Ontario.  Sometimes it's a fleeting thought - other times its an all consuming desire for weeks on end.  I miss being near my parents.  I miss being near my siblings.  I hear of friends who go to Mom & Dad's for Sunday lunch, and I wish I had the opportunity of doing that.  I hear when friends children get to have sleep overs at Grandpa & Grandma's and I wish my kids had that.  The longing for "home" never goes away.

But, I have never been as homesick as I was when I was 17.  During that summer, I had the privilege of being at a leadership camp at Bark Lake in northern Ontario.  This was not a Christian camp, but a friend of mine & I had been chosen by the camp we counselled at to go and learn for 3 weeks at this camp.  It truly was a privilege, but after several days of no other Christian friends around, no family and feeling so utterly alone, homesickness started to settle in.  The ache that I felt in my heart was actually painful.  It was so strong, and so all consuming.  It was all I could think of.  I missed home so much, I could feel it in my throat - in my stomach.  Phone calls were not always possible and while we did receive mail, and a visit from our boyfriends, nothing eased the ache of just wanting to be home.  I will never forget the moment, when I & my group of friends that I had made there, were sitting waiting for our parents, and I realized it was my parents who were driving up to pick me up.  (They had purchased a new car while I was gone, so it was only when I saw their faces that I realized it was them.)  Oh the feeling of relief when I was back together with them.  I can't say I was close to my parents (I was a teenager after all!), but that feeling of security and safety and relief to see them again was incredibly powerful.  I learned so much that summer from my time away and have never forgotten that feeling of "coming home", even if it was not really home, but simply being in my parents presence.

My brother Brian (he also lives far away from family) & I often talk about that feeling of going home.  The feeling of being back on familiar ground.  The feeling of being "home".  For both of us, even after so many years, the moment we drive up near Kitchener, or drive on roads we used to, we are home.  There is just something comforting and familiar, and it gives us a sense of peace.

Brian & I also often talk about Heaven.  For so many years, regardless of how our lives have been going, we have often talked about that desire to leave this world behind and spend the rest of our days in Heaven.  We often chat abou
t the feelings we will have worshiping.  Adoring. In complete Awe.  Recently as I've struggled through these dark places, that feeling of homesickness has been getting stronger and stronger.  Not going back to my Ontario home, but my heavenly home.  Don't get me wrong I wouldn't do anything to make that happen, but that feeling of knowing that someday, I will get to leave this life behind is so comforting.  The yo-yo of emotions that I feel will be completely replaced with being in Jesus' presence.  The intense loneliness and sadness I feel will be replaced with joy unspeakable.  The overwhelming feeling of homesickness that I feel will be filled with overwhelming awe and adoration for my Jesus.  I will get to sit at His feet and praise Him.  I will get to be in His presence and know that "I am Home".

As I've struggled through these lonely days, that feeling of homesickness has intensified.  I cannot wait!!  I cannot wait to be consumed and flooded with joy at being able to see Jesus.  In our church services recently, we have been doing a series called "Legacy of the Shepherd".  Yesterday, we sang an old hymn called "Who is on the Lord's Side?" and it had a verse that went like this:

1. Fierce may be the conflict, strong may be the foe,
   But the King’s own army none can overthrow;
   ’Round His standard ranging, vict’ry is secure,
   For His truth unchanging makes the triumph sure.
   Joyfully enlisting, by Thy grace divine,
   We are on the Lord’s side—Savior, we are Thine!

It got me thinking again about how thankful I am that I have Jesus.  That I have Him to be my anchor.  My strength.  And no matter how homesick I get here on earth, I know I have the hope that the darkness I feel, the loneliness I experience, the sadness and disappointment that surrounds me, will all someday be gone because Jesus has taken all that away for me.  I will get to see Jesus face to face.

I found this song written in the '90's by Danny Plett (who ironically is now our church's Worship Ministry Pastor) and it made my heart sing.  The thought of Heaven and going there is written so perfectly in this song and it has been going over and over in my head, so I wanted to share it with you.

If you are struggling with life here on Earth, just know that if you know Jesus Christ as your Savior, you have a hope that will take this all away.  Jesus died for you, and He knows the pain we are going through here on an imperfect earth, and He wants you with Him one day.  If you don't know Jesus personally, or want to find out more about Heaven and the confidence I have that one day I will be there, I'd love to chat with you  about it.  Or find someone in your life that knows that without a doubt they are headed there too.

It's a hope we can each have that can take away the deepest ache, the sharpest pain, the darkest night.  Because Jesus took it all for us.  And I personally can't wait for the day to see Jesus face to face and thank Him for the gift that He has made available to each one of us.  What a day that will be!!!!!

2 Corinthians 4:7-10

But this precious treasure—this light and power that now shine within us—is held in a perishable container, that is, in our weak bodies. Everyone can see that the glorious power within must be from God and is not our own.

We are pressed on every side by troubles, but not crushed and broken. We are perplexed because we don’t know why things happen as they do, but we don’t give up and quit. We are hunted down, but God never abandons us. We get knocked down, but we get up again and keep going. These bodies of ours are constantly facing death just as Jesus did; so it is clear to all that it is only the living Christ within who keeps us safe.

Happy 80th Birthday to my Mom (January 1)

My Mom. . . . .💖💗💕

Why is it that sometimes we girls have a love/hate relationship with our mothers.  I KNOW I am not the only one.  And if you add in our mother-in-laws. . . . well, that goes far beyond what this post can get into!  😏

But I want to tell you about my Mom.

My Mom is not my best friend.  She is not my closest confident.  She is not someone who I run to any time I am struggling.  Some of you might have that kind of a mom.

HOWEVER!  My mom IS someone who I admire.  My mom is someone who I respect.  My mom is someone who has endured the test of time.  My mom is someone who has given up everything for others.  My mom loves fiercely.  My mom is a protector. And my mom is someone who I am so thankful to say has always supported me in everything I do.

She is also someone who I have run to when I am in a pickle.  She is THE ONE PERSON I called when my husband had an accident and I didn’t know who to turn to.  She is also the same person that when I went home to the camp on my very first night alone after Keith had said accident, and I found every single door locked to every building on the camp site (including my own home!) that I called and talked to on the pay phone for over an hour as she prayed and comforted me. . . . assuring me that things would be okay.  She is also the one person that I was eventually able to share my broken heart with when I found that pornography had entered into the life of my marriage.

My mom has cried with me.  My mom has ached with me.  My mom has cried tears of JOY with me. My mom has sung with me.  My mom has laughed with me.  And (truth be told) my mom has cried, screamed and passed out when she birthed me.  So truthfully????  My mom has been there for every spectrum of emotion in my life.

I can’t say my mom and I see eye to eye on all things.  But the older I get, and the older my kids get, the more I seem to understand my mom.  As a teen I DIDN’T GET HER!!!!  As a young married girl, I thought she just wasn’t patient enough (lol).  As a mom, I thought she figured she had it all figured out b/c she had all the answers on how to raise my own kids.

And now as a daughter whose mom is turning 80, I realize I am the luckiest girl alive.  It has been difficult knowing I couldn’t be there to celebrate my mom’s 80th birthday.  Many times, I have had to let others share the joy that is my mom. I have had to trust that all the work and good she has done in the last 80 years will be celebrated because MY MOM IS AN AMAZING WOMAN!!!

Here are some things that you might not know about my mom:

- My mom came to Canada to care for 4 children whose mother died, and came only to care for them – not knowing what the future would hold.
- My mom came from a life of luxury (single working girl, in an office that made her lots of money) to a farm girl’s life where there was a highly mortgaged farm, four children without a mother, a man who had recently lost his wife – trying to care for said 4 children, run a farm AND provide a home for this city girl, not to mention the lack of luxuries that she was used to in Rotterdam!
- My mom decided I was good enough to birth me breech – without medication!!! and still laugh about it to this day.
- My mom left her home again for me and spent several days with me when I found out my husband would no longer walk.  She rubbed my back, held my hand, and took a lot of anger, insults and frustration that was not directed at her, however, at that time – landed on her.
- My mom is a breast cancer survivor!!!
- My mom has done more in her life than I can ever imagine doing in mine.
- My mom is the youngest looking 80 year old I know – or at least who hasn’t had surgery to alter anything!
- My mom knows how I struggle with the distance between us, because she too had to live many, many miles apart from her mom.  History has repeated itself.

I love my mom and am so proud and thankful that God gave her to me to be my Mom.  God has given my mom 80 years!  She is an amazing woman and I love her so much!  Life has dictated that we live far apart.  But life has also allowed for letters, occasional visits, and many phone calls to breach that distance.

Thank you, Mom for all that you do for me and my family.  We love you very much and hope you have an amazing birthday on January 1.

XOXOXO Mom

Misplaced expectations. . . and how to find joy

Several months ago, I spent some time at the lake by myself.  I had just completed a year of piano teaching, and I was tired.  So I decided to go away by myself to spend some time with God.  I didn't know what I was looking for, but I was searching.  Searching for some answers.  Searching for a sign.  But maybe most of all, searching for peace.  

I had been struggling with many different things personally.  And I wanted to go to the lake to "find God", and to find out what He had for me.  I think the bottom line was that I was unhappy, and discontented.  I needed some guidance.  So I went to the lake, and in a variety of ways found what I was needing.  I found a peace that I hadn't had in a very long time.  I found the recipe for joy that I had been missing.  And it was simple.  It was something I've known all along, but quite honestly couldn't put into practice.  You see, I had been looking for joy, for peace in all the wrong places.  I was looking to others to make me happy.  I had expectations of what others should be doing. . . . being. . . . for me, that ultimately ended up bringing more pain and tears than anything.  My expectations weren't being met, but it's because my expectations were in things that couldn't bring me joy.  That couldn't bring me peace.  I realized that my joy ultimately was up to me, and between me and God.  And the only place I could find that joy was to completely put my trust and hope in God.  He was the only one who could never - who WOULD never - let me down.  

I was reading a book called Turn Your Mourning into Dancing by Henri Nouwen when I was at the lake.  (I HIGHLY encourage you to read it.  You can find it here:  TURN MY MOURNING INTO DANCING ) It truthfully has been a life changer for me.  Nouwen writes "We have hope and joy in our faith because we believe that while the world in which we live is shrouded in darkness, God has overcome the world."  Hope has to do with God.  Joy has to do with God.  Not anyone or anything else around me.  And it's when I trust in God, and am going to Him for my joy, it allows me to live with expectations, but expectations of what God will do for me, not what others will do for me.  I can trust Him implicitly because I can know that beyond a shadow of a doubt, He has my best interests at heart. 

I will be honest.  I still go back.  I still conjure up expectations for those around me of how they should act.  How they should be for me.  What they can provide for me.  How they can bring me joy.  But thankfully, God continues to remind my that my joy comes from Him and none other.

As I sat doing my devotions this morning (have I mentioned how I hate that word??? For me it has such guilt associated with that word because as I was growing up devotions were something I HAD to do.  And if I didn't I must not be a very good Christian! ☺ ), but as I was spending time with God this morning (much better term!!) I was reading about how Christ's sacrifice was once and for all.  I was reminded about how the high priests used to have to make daily sacrifices to cover the sins of the people.  In verse 14 of Hebrews 10 it reads, "For by one sacrifice he has made perfect forever those who are being made holy." 

What a thing of joy.  We are being made holy because of Christ's sacrifice.  That is something I can put my expectations in.  THAT is something that when I think of it, brings me such joy.  I know I fail, but I don't have to make any sacrifices.  I know I go back to putting my expectations in people instead of God to bring me joy.  But this morning, as I read and was reminded about the sacrifice that God gave to me by sending His Son, I couldn't help but feel a joy.  I couldn't help but again be amazed that regardless of how I back track, regardless of how far I fall, regardless of how many times I put my hope in something or someone that doesn't bring me joy, God is still there for me.  God has allowed me to have full expectations in Him.  I can be guaranteed that HE will bring me the joy, the peace, the hope I am looking for.  Philippians 3:20 tells us "Our homeland (our citizenship) is in Heaven, where our Saviour, the Lord Jesus Christ, is;  and we are looking forward to his return from there."  What an expectation I can have.

My brother and I were chatting this weekend about how, for so many reasons, we cannot wait for Christ's return.  I know I wish for joy, and peace, hope, in my life.  Can you imagine when we are in Heaven how we won't have any expectations not met?  Can you imagine the awe we will feel when we are sitting at Jesus' feet worshiping Him?  It gives me goosebumps just thinking about it.  

Now there is something to have expectations about.  There's something that will bring my joy.  There is something that I can place my hope in. 

What a day that will be!!!

He is there. . . . .

As I sit here on a Friday evening and peruse through the abundance of Facebook comments and pictures, I am struck with a thought. . . . again. . . of how each of us live in our own world.

Yes, we live together, and sometimes our lives do intersect at various moments.  But essentially our lives are our own.

Tonight my mom shared with me a tragic event that happened in a community they (my Dad & mom) once served in.  (Stanley Mission Deaths ) Several years ago, God blessed them with the opportunity of ministering to people in Stanley Mission.  This week, Stanley Mission was rocked with the information that 3 of their youths committed suicide.  Two of these little girls (12 and 14) were granddaughters of a woman that my parents had befriended years ago.  This woman had sought out my parents several times, calling our home to find out when “John & Gretha were getting to Saskatchewan”.  This week she found out that 2 of her grand babies died by suicide.  I cannot imagine her grief.

As I contemplated what this dear Native grandmother must be going through, and as I saw the different scenarios being played out on my Facebook screen – a precious daughter of friends dying of cancer, a family enjoying an evening on their acreage, a family divided because of sin that has caused pain, a family connecting from continents apart because of the luxury of the internet, a marriage vow broken, a family grieving the diagnosis of their father. . . . and the list continues -  I wondered how it all played a part in MY life.

Each entity unto its own.  Each desperately trying to conjure up the strength to continue.  Each calling on Jesus to take their pain.  And in these moments of joy and anguish, I again was reminded of the incredible gift that we have been given of being able to talk to our Creator. 

We can go to Him with our joys, our sorrows, our anguish and our elation.  He is waiting for us to come to Him.  And He is waiting for us to come to Him on behalf of those that – for whatever reason – cannot even emit the words to God. 

I was also reminded that so many times we see the façade that people present to the “world”, yet their hearts are breaking.  I see the happy smiles on FB, yet I know the hurts run deep.  I see the family or school pictures and yet I know that beyond the smile, is a sadness or a desperation, or an anguish that is unspoken.  A difficulty unshared. 

And so tonight I encourage you to pray.  Pray for your loved ones close to you.  Pray for those that you know are hurting.  But maybe more importantly, pray for those that don’t appear “to need it”.  Sometimes it’s those happy faces that we see that need prayer the most.

Tonight, I am so grateful for a Father that knows our heart.  That knows the needs of us that cannot be spoken.  I am grateful for a God that has gone ahead and knows precisely what we need.  But more importantly, I am thankful for a God that listens.  That hears the anguished cries of each of our hearts.  And hears the unspoken cries of those of us that don’t have the words to speak.  And also hears the cries of the broken hearted, before we bring it to Him, but also WHEN we bring it to Him.

 

I encourage you that tonight, as you sit in the quiet, or as you lay quietly awaiting sleep, listen to the names God brings to you tonight.  Listen and bring them to God.  You may be the one who is interceding for someone who can’t even speak the words to our Lord.  YOU may be the one who is praying on their behalf. 

What can you do tonight?  Who can you pray for tonight?

The Eye of the Beholder

The last couple of days have been rough.  Rough b/c I’ve been looking in the mirror.  Not at what makes me beautiful – truly beautiful, but the outside.  The covering.  The old, raggedy, saggedy covering.

A couple days ago, a friend of mine tagged me to post 4 pictures of myself that make me feel beautiful.  Then, another friend posted a picture of her with the comment that she didn’t feel like a good friend b/c of situations in her life.  Both of these posts made me tear up.  Not b/c they hurt me, but b/c it made me take a really difficult look at how I see myself.

Truthfully, I can’t find 4 pictures of myself in the last 4 years or so b/c I have made sure that there are very few pictures taken of me.  I might have some with my family, but none of just myself.  Because, plain and simple, I really don’t like who I see in the mirror.  I really don’t like me.

Then when I thought about what kind of friend I am being, again tears, b/c in so many ways I feel like I have failed in so many ways.  Please don’t get me wrong.  No one has made me feel that way.  These are my feelings.  These are the things I see, and not what others have told me. 

I also saw a post recently “We all know mirrors don’t lie. . . . I’m just thankful they don’t laugh.” It was meant to be funny, but it struck me that it was too close to the truth about how I felt – okay feel!  I’m afraid my mirror would just shake it’s head in disgust.

I read Psalm 139 over and over again.  I am fearfully and wonderfully made.  I read Ephesians how I am God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus.  I KNOW these things but how do I resist the urge to listen to Satan’s voice in my head that I am none of these things?  I see the weight gain and know that it is from medications and steroids I need to be on for health reasons, but it just makes me ashamed of who I have become.  I know that the outside is not who I am inside, but truthfully, if I don’t like myself on the outside, it’s hard to love the inside.

I know there are those of you who know how I feel.  You’ve felt those very things.  And when you feel them, you aren’t looking for confirmation from others.  Because, like me, you know you are good at things.  I know I’m a good piano teacher.  I know I am a great cook.  I know I am a good mom (well, most of the time). I know I have lots of good qualities.  We don’t dispute that.  It’s just that I don’t FEEL it.  I know God has created me to be this way.  I know God loves me just the way I am.  But how do I get that head knowledge to coincide with my heart?

Someone else recently requested prayer for her relationship with her kids.  That she would be able to take the next several days and just pour praise into her kids b/c it was something she wasn’t feeling at the moment.

Can I be so bold as to ask you to pray for me?  I’m praying that the things that I know to be true about who I am as a woman in Christ, will somehow meet with my feelings and I can get my head and heart in synch.  And please.  Let me know if you are struggling with those same thoughts.  Because I’d love to pray for you! 

And believe me.  I know it’s not easy to say these things out loud.  To admit when you are in a dark place like this.  I know the things/thoughts I’m feeling these days are not Godly, but rather lies from Satan.  So I’m praying that as we progress into fall, my head will join my heart and say thanks to God for who He has made me.  Weight/hair and all.  Because my value in Christ doesn’t come from those outward things.  It’s who I am inside and that’s what counts.

I’m praying that the beauty God sees in me is what I can see in myself.  

Clearing out the clutter

Many, many years ago, when I was growing up, an annual event at our house was SPRING CLEANING.  Even the thought of it causes me to shudder.  Not only were our lives turned upside down during our week of "vacation" during spring break, but our house was too!!!  Seriously.  There truthfully was not an inch of our home that did not get cleaned.  Dishes that had not been used once during that entire year, were taken out of cupboards, washed and bleached and returned to their spots.  Closets were completely emptied and wiped down and purged from whatever items weren't needed.  Curtains were removed from every window and washed while each window was cleaned inside and out.  Walls, floors, doors, windows, furniture. . . . it was all cleaned.  Then, everything was returned to it's original state - only cleaner.  I will be honest.  I never quite understood that whole concept, and I certainly didn't enjoy it during my week of holidays from school.  I will also tell you that spring cleaning does not occur in my house!!!

But usually 2 or 3 times a month, I walk into my office and feel stifled.  You see, my office becomes a dumping ground for things that "I will do later".  My desk gets piled higher and higher with papers, books, clothes etc.  And finally, one day, it all gets to be too much.  The anxiety that this clutter brings is palpable at times, and so today was one of those days when I "took charge" of the disaster that I called my office.

My office also doubles as our prayer room.  But lately, it hasn't been a prayer room.  It's been a place where I work, where things pile up, and where chaos has reigned!

This morning I decided to take back this space.  Granted, I know things will pile up, but for today, my office is calm.  It's a place where the worship music plays continuously day and night, and a space where (NOW!) I can sit and look outside and be still.  Be quiet as I think, pray and just listen.

As I sat at my desk and thought about this process of cleaning up and spring cleaning and de-cluttering and living minimally, I started to think about my spiritual walk and how it could stand to use some SERIOUS spring cleaning!  My world has been filled with schedules, due dates, appointments, meetings, agendas and somewhere in the chaos I have lost the moments of stillness that I have so desperately needed.

As I've thought about how to spring clean my spiritual life, I realized it all came down to figuring out what matters.  It's not about the doing, it's about the being.  It's about spending that time with God.  It's about the relationship that I have with Him, not what I DO "for Him".  Over the last little while, I think I've lost sight of that.  I've lost sight of my need for a relationship with God.  A deep rooted relationship, not one that "looks" right, but one that is right.  One that is continually seeking a deeper truer relationship with Him.  One that focuses on what God has for me, rather than on what I have for me.

And while this may not be the same for you, the place where I generally spent those quiet moments with God had become cluttered and busy, and in turn, my relationship with God had moved to the bottom of those big piles that filled the desk and chairs in my office.  So today, while the calendar might not say it is spring, my office is cleared and my heart space is cleared and ready for renewing a relationship that needs some serious work!

There are so many areas of my spiritual walk with God that need some spring cleaning - certainly rearranging at least.  And it feels like spring is just the time for that. . .

Broken Pieces

As I've watched 2016 come in and slowly sift through the timer, it amazes me that somehow we are already almost to the end of February.  It feels like I've been in a bit of a haze.  It feels like the year has started without me in many ways.  Let me explain.

I had high hopes for 2016.  I imagined that all the broken pieces of the last few years would somehow fix themselves and with 2016 being a new year, it would feel different.  It would be a new beginning.  I would be able to start fresh and it would all be okay.  I've been waiting to feel differently.  I've been waiting to feel whole.  I've been praying for changes and healing.  Instead, it feels like I'm just sitting and waiting.

The quote "time heals all wounds" doesn't ring true for me.  It doesn't.  It may help me forget the past, but it doesn't heal.  The passage of time doesn't automatically make you trust.  Time doesn't help you figure out how to put the broken pieces back together again.  Quite truthfully, with time, more difficulties have come.  Struggles have become bigger.  The pain has settled into a place that at times seems lessened because it doesn't stick it's ugly head up every day, but when it does, it almost seems bigger somehow. There are days when God seems more distant than ever.  There are days when the darkness seems darker than ever.

Over the last several months, I have realized that time doesn't heal all wounds.  And it doesn't erase the past.  However, I have also been resolved to hold out my hands to God and ask Him to put the pieces back together into whatever He has for me.  I will never be that un-shattered person that I used to be.  I will never be unbroken.  I will never be able to walk away from the scars in my life that I have encountered over the years.

At first I was looking at that as a negative thing.  But recently, I have been looking at them differently.  I saw a quote on Facebook that I had seen before but struck me so differently than it had in the past.  I know I have looked at my past experiences as places I've come from.  Episodes I've walked through and grown from.  But I hadn't really been looking at them like a badge of honour.  I was looking at some of my "war wounds" as something to be ashamed of.  As times when I had been weak.  Times that I was embarrassed about.  But as I have begun to look at them as "survival" stories, it's given me a different perspective.  Those scars whether they be stretch marks, healed skin scars, or scars on the inside in the deepest parts of my heart, they are still badges that show me I survived.  Even in those deepest darkest difficult spots of my life, God brought me through them.  He didn't take them away from me.  And he doesn't take those scars away either.  They are reminders to me that He stood there with me in those difficult moments.  Every wound, visible or hidden, are scars that have been stitched back together by God.  The raw wound has been healed, but the scar will remain.  And I can look at that scar as ugly or with anger or disappointment that I have it at all, but the truth is, I HAVE that scar.  The wound didn't consume me.  It didn't take me down.

Recently my sister was visiting for a week and it was so refreshing to chat with her.  She looked at our family and saw hope.  She saw potential.  She saw the hurt, the ugliness and pain.  But more importantly, she reminded me that despite all the pain and raw hurt that has been and is there, God is still there.  And the scars we have are just signs that we have survived and that God is still doing a work of restoration.  I'm not sure how or what that looks like yet, but He is there.  He has been there.  And He will always be there.

The images that the Bible shares with us of Jesus after His crucifixion are not images of Jesus made physically completely whole again.  The Bible tells us that the disciples put their fingers in the holes made by the nails.  Jesus' scars remind me that He "survived".  He conquered death for me.  He has walked beside me and watched as my life has developed scars.  But He has always been there reminding me of the scars He encountered for me.  Without HIS scars I wouldn't have the hope of an eternity in Heaven.  And without my scars, I wouldn't be the person I am today.

So today I claim the promise that God is in the business of restoration.  It might not always look the way I envision that restoration to be.  And it certainly won't take away the scars that have already been created.  But I DO know that God can and will use those scars to bring glory to Him.  I need only to keep holding out my hands to Him and waiting for what He has.  It might not happen today.  It might not happen tomorrow.  But when it does, I know that God will restore me, despite the scars that exist.

When there are no words

As I sat in my counsellor's office trying to put together the words to share with her what was going on inside my heart, my head, I realized that sometimes, there really just aren't the words to express what goes on inside me.

When I tried to share with her that my world was turning dark again, it didn't seem right.  It wasn't the same as several years ago, but it was stifling.  When I tried to share with her how dark my heart was feeling the words just didn't feel right.  What I was feeling couldn't come out.  I couldn't seem to express precisely what I was feeling.

I went away from my appointment feeling deflated.  Feeling more empty than when I had gone there.  Feeling like it was an impossible task to actually express what I was feeling.  As I drove home, I thought about the many times that I have felt that way in my prayer life as well.  The times that I've wanted to pour my heart out to God, but I just couldn't muster the words.  I couldn't put into words the things I was feeling.  Or quite truthfully I couldn't speak out the words because the feelings I was having were just that awful.  I thought about my session that day.  Was it more because I didn't want to admit some of the things I was feeling?  It certainly was partly that.  The truth was that I was feeling so guilty about what I was feeling inside, that each time I tried to form the words to say it, the words that were there would show the ugliness I was feeling inside.  And admitting that I was feeling those things was too much.  It would confirm to me and to her that I was broken.

At times as I've prayed, I've felt those same things.  How could I go to God and share what I was feeling when the things that I was feeling were so ungodly?  How could I tell God, the creator of the universe that He had made a mistake.  How could I tell Him that this person He had created in His image, for His glory, didn't want to go on, and just wanted to die.  How could I tell the Being who sent His Son to die for me, that I wasn't worth it?

Many times I have sat staring out the window, on chair in my yard, on the edge of our lake and my head is filled with thoughts and feelings that I just can't put into words.  That I dare not speak out loud for the shame I would feel just voicing them.

And that day after being in the office, unable to find the words, not daring to speak them, I sat on the chair in my office and stared outside at the leafless trees.  I watched a blue jay vie for his position at the bird feeder.  I stared at the squirrel making his way along the tree branches.  My heart was so full of sadness.  So dark.  And it dawned on me, that even without the words to speak, God knew.  God knew.  He knew my heart.  He felt my anguish.  He knew my struggles.  And while there were no words to speak.  No eloquent prayers to be prayed, I knew God heard me.  I knew He held me.  I knew He felt what I was feeling.

As I gulped in air, trying to clear the weight I was feeling compressing on my chest, the heaviness, I realized that even without the words, God was hearing me.  He was right there.  Things didn't miraculously change.  The weight didn't clear.  The pain didn't go away.  Truthfully nothing changed.  But I did have a sense of peace that even without the words to speak, God knew.  And He was going to see me through it.  When words failed, God presence didn't.  There were no eloquent prayers, believe me.  But I know that in the stillness of those moments, with no words to speak, God heard me.

Falling Short

Over the last several months, I think the thing that I have struggled with the most, is the feeling of "falling short".  Trying, but never succeeding.  Wanting to do something, but never quite attaining it.  Or reaching your goal, only to fall backwards.  The quote of 3 steps forward, 2 steps back?  Well, it has felt more like 2 steps forward, 3 steps back!!!

I've had moments where I have been proud of my accomplishments.  I've aimed for a goal, and reached it.  At least for a moment.  I've been the kind of mother I am proud of being.  The kind of wife I feel I should be.  The "godly" Christian I think God would be proud of. . . .

and then. . . . life took over. . . and those things that I put so much value in, started to slide.  They slipped backwards, far beyond my grasp - or so it felt.  The mountain stood in front of me once again. I've let myself down.  I've let others down.  I have fallen short of all that I thought I should or could be.  I can't even bring myself to face those that I've let down.  Or at least be honest with those that I have.  I've put a mask on to hide my hurt.  To hide my embarrassment of not being what I thought I should be.  I've tried to cover my short comings.  To hide my failures.

As I've done so, the slide gets slipperier.  It gets more difficult.  And the anxiety and depressions starts to kick in once again.  Those same familiar feels of panic and stress that I felt 3 years ago, start to resurface.

So I sit and try to focus on who I am.  My kids and husband love me.  But I feel inadequate.  The girl that everyone was amazed by who lost "the weight and changed her life" well, she is gone.  And as students drop out of piano through though the first few months of change, I even begin to question whether or not I am doing what I should be doing.

Over the last few months, those are the lies that have been creeping into my mind.  You may not see them.  You may not imagine that those thoughts are there.  The happy (albeight overweight!) face is what I can show to most of you.

And as I write this, I can't help but think "But hey!  There have been SO MANY joys come across your paths too!"  And there has!! Reconnecting with a dear friend from many years ago.  Seeing my children excel in school. Having 2 wonderful vacations to our families this summer. Watching my husband take a strong leadership role in our church.  These are all amazing things that bring me such joy.  For all intents and purposes, joy should be oozing from my pores!!

It wasn't until this week that I started to truthfully take a good look at my life.  Re-evaluate my responses.  Re-evaluate my focus.  Re-think what is important to me.  Those things that I had focused on, that were now gone, were they really SO important to me that when they were gone, I could feel this empty?  I read about and messaged one of our former youth girls who is now going through one of the biggest battles of her life - watching her husband struggle for his health in a hospital bed.  My heart ached for her.  I remembered those dark days of when Keith was in the hospital.

But I also remembered how at those times, I truthfully felt the best.  It wasn't easy, but every fibre of my body was focused on getting a grasp of God's strength to make it through each day.  And it hit me.

I.  WAS.  DOING.  THIS.  ON.  MY.  OWN.

The reason I had been feeling like I had fallen short was because I was using the wrong measuring stick!!!!!  I had focused on a human measuring stick.  I looked at those around me.  How skinny they were.  How happy they were.  How great a mother they were etc. I was using the world's measuring stick.  Not God's.

So I sat down and read Psalm 139.  About how amazing I am to God.  Believe me, I have read it several times over the last few weeks. In fact, when I can't bring myself to read anything else, this is the passage I go to.  I figure, I might as well read it and try and get it into my head even if at that moment my heart wasn't believing it.

As I sit here and type this, I don't for a moment claim to be on top of the mountain.  What I do claim is to have fallen short.  Fallen short of seeing myself in God's eyes, and in turn seeing myself through Satan's filter!!!  At this very moment, I struggle with even thinking about pressing the "publish" button because I don't feel worthy of anyone reading my thoughts.  But I will.  And I also will try to focus on what God is doing in my life.  I think back to 1993 and how far He has brought me from those dark days in the hospital. And all the dark days in between.  I'm still standing right?!?!?! It's not b/c of me - but rather the strength that God has given me.  God is creating me into something amazing, if I only let Him.  He sitting there at the Potter's wheel working on my masterpiece.  But if I keep getting in the way, I will only amount to a clump of clay.  So I am going to give it over to Him.  I'm going to use HIS measuring stick.  And there are no numbers on His measuring stick.  There is only one big HEART on His measuring stick.  And it tells me He loves me no matter what the numbers on the scale say.  He loves me no matter how many times I falter and fail.  He loves me no matter how many times I have to take medication for my anxiety and panic attacks.  I am not a failure to Him.  HE LOVES ME - and that is my measuring stick.

And because He loves me and died for me, I measure up in His eyes.

Been a while. . . .

So recently I had someone comment about how they had missed my blogs. . . .

So today I looked back to when my last post was. . . . JULY!!!  Okay, the truth is, I'm a bit surprised it was that recent.  That's only four months.  Mind you the previous one was also a month before that.

I have to say, that the last half a year has been . . .

crazy

unsure

undecided

difficult

good

confusing

chaotic emotionally

draining

tiring

exciting

some of the best times

some extremely difficult times

I think you get the picture.  My life has felt like a yo yo!!  And yet. . . here I sit November 11.

Remembering.  Thankful.  Grateful.  Proud. . .  so many emotions.

I am thankful for my friend who at least prompted me to write this entry.  Ang - you have always been an encouragement in this blog journey of mine.  Thank you.

I am feeling like I am coming out of a difficult emotionally draining time.  Perhaps in the next little while I will be able to share more of my journey these last several months.  Things even I haven't necessarily processed. But I know that when we share our journeys our burdens get lighter.

Fellowship has been a big word for me in the last week.  Hopefully we can "fellowship" together as we share our hearts together.

Pray for me, won't you?!?!?!