God is God

Thursday, I was smacked upside the head with God's sovereignty. 

Almost ten years ago, my sister died of leukemia.  I was very angry and I did not even want to think that God could use this for his purposes, for his glory.  I was too disturbed that something so painful could happen in my life and he could use it for good. 

I've gone through a lot in the last nine and a half years.  And, recently, I'd finally become ready for him to use that portion of my life for his plans.  I was ready to permit him to do this.  How audacious and naive is that?  Low an behold, God didn't need me.

I started to attend a Bible study a few weeks ago out of obedience to God's prompting.  I didn't not expect anyone to know me or anything about my sister.  The third study in, I found out that there were several women in my study that were affected by Sherri's illness and ultimately her death.  One of them, in an extremely personal way.  My sister's husband helped her through a difficult time when she had to endure the death of someone very close.  Her intro into sharing this with me was startling, like mystery being revealed, like God gave her the words that would capture and mystify me with his glory.  She said, "I have to say this.  Before our first Bible study, I knew you."  The realization that we were linked intimately through my sister before we ever met exposed a fragment of God's perfect, intricate ways.

So, here I was thinking that I was finally ready for God to use this tragedy for his purposes. (How gracious of me.)  But he was SOVEREIGN.  He did not need me.  I was smacked upside the head with his sovereignty.  It's as if he said, "It's great that you're going to let me use you now."  (And I am going to let him use me.)  "But I was going to use it anyway, whether you cooperated or not."  You see, he is sovereign and he will work all things together for his good, regardless of me or anyone else.  And I am so thankful for that.  Thank God that it is not up to me being ready.  God is greater than that.

A Mom Story...

My oldest son isn't with me today.  He spent last night at my parents, a delayed birthday tradition. There was a snowstorm during the first attempt.  This date was the make-up date and Eddie was not about to let anything stop him this time; not even a broken arm.  We talked about rescheduling, but he was resolute.

Only 24 hours after breaking his arm, he departed for Grandma and Grandpa's (a.k.a. Baba).  Eddie is a very sensitive kid; as in he is very aware of his needs and emotions.  So, he knew he needed to be cared for and loved right now, while the pain was still at it's worst.  Plus he is grieving the loss of his passion for the next 2 months, Taekwondo. 

I have to say, I am really struggling with the fact that it is not me providing that for him.  I feel bound, I feel restricted.  This is uncomfortable.  I should be caring for my baby.  I know he is in amazing hands.  My parents are truly wonderful.  Still, I have this deep, uncontrollable need to care for my hurting child.

It's strange, the timing.  This isn't the first time he ended up at Grandma and Baba's at a pinnacle point in his life.  Four years ago, he witnessed another Grandfather (his namesake) pass away.  It was the night before Eddie's birthday, the night before he was going to spend the night at Grandma and Baba's.  That time we also discussed cancelling, and it was hard to let him go, but that was where he was meant to be.

There are some very clear moments in my children's lives where I feel God is at work.  It seems obvious that some events were planned and happened just as they should.  For Eddie, these moments when he ends up at Grandma and Baba's seem fall into that category for sure.  I'm sure he will never forget the nights he spent there when he needed love, support and reassurance the most.

I think I'll feel unsettled until he returns to my care, but he is where he is supposed to be and I am thankful.

The Best Mom in the Whole World

Happy Birthday Mom!

My kids tell me I’m the best mom in the whole world. I believe that they really think it is true, but I know the truth... My mom is the best mom in the whole world.

Starting from my earliest memory, my mom’s unconditional love has shone constant, like the sun on the brightest of days. She never backed down from discipline and always expected me to live up to the potential God instilled in me. She has modeled eternal priorities and has never been bashful about her true passion in life… Jesus.

We’ve endured things together. They’ve all been markedly harder for her than me, and I’ve watched her handle, with God’s strength and grace; betrayal & divorce, the early and unexpected death of her beloved father, court battles with my dad, financial hardship, job instability, the death of her first born daughter, the divorces of two other daughters… Yet she has never lost grasp of God’s joy in her.

She is my hero. Yes, she is a real person with many flaws and quirks, but she, aside from God, is most responsible for every good thing in me. My mom is the best mom in the whole world.

Happy Birthday Mom!

I love you with all my heart.

Dedo

F is for Forgiveness

If I do two things well in this lifetime, I want them to be love and forgiveness.

I've been hesitant to blog completely openly about my faith, as to not offend anyone. But I cannot even broach this subject without my faith taking center stage.

Stasi Eldredge writes about this topic in her book, Captivating:

“Bitterness and unforgiveness set their hooks deep in our hearts; they are chains that hold us captive to the wounds and the messages of these wounds. Until you forgive, you remain their prisoner.”

It is very easy to let resentment fester, thoughts of how wrong the people who hurt us were. We know we should forgive. But, first we have to want to forgive. Then we have to actually let go of our hurt and resentment.

Is forgiveness simply a conscious decision? I wish. I’ve tried that many, many times, only to be utterly disappointed in myself for not having the will power to make the forgiveness of an offense a reality. That has been a frustration my whole life.

I have come to realize that forgiveness has much less to do with the intent, for what is obviously the right thing to do, then I ever knew. It has much less to do with the person who offended me, than me. And it is very much related to my spiritual and emotional health.

Forgiveness seems to have much to do with me being okay with me. In my successful experiences with forgiveness, I've found I need a healthy relationship with my creator. Forgiveness is me freeing everyone else from the responsibility of making sure that I am okay, because that need is being met somewhere else.

I am okay. When I am secure in who God created me to be; when I am secure with all my own blemishes and faults; when I am reconciled with my creator and longing to be fulfilled in Him and Him only, I am free to forgive. Forgiveness comes not only with conscious effort; but forgiveness comes with security in and dependence on God.

That might sound wacky, but for me it is a very real truth. That might sound simple, but it is a long road. One I am still on. I had journeyed through over 30 years of living and trying to find my way, and calling on God for direction. Then finally... a huge challenge. In the face of thinking I could never forgive the most devastating offensive in my life, I gave not the offense or the offenders to God’s control, but me. I gave me. I gave my heartache, my pain, my resentment… to God. I made room for His patience, grace, and mercy to fill me.

And, guess what followed… a miraculous ability to forgive. Aha… forgiveness was never to be by my own volition. Forgiveness became a reality through God’s strength, power and love.

I'm sure I have much more forgiving to do in my days on earth. But if I can forgive, no offender will ever have a grip on me, my heart can be light and peaceful and free to love endlessly.

Stasi Eldredge, in “Captivating” also wrote,

“We acknowledge that it hurt, that it mattered, and we choose to extend forgiveness to our fathers, our mothers, those who hurt us. This is not saying, “I didn’t really matter”; it is not saying, “I probably deserved part of it anyway.” Forgiveness says, “It was wrong. Very wrong. It mattered, hurt me deeply. And I release you. I give you to God.”

My Version of Lent

I am not a religious person. I am most definitely driven by faith, but not ritual. My parents were both raised Catholic, but I was not. My faith has been experienced in non-denominational church families, thus, I am not accustomed to practicing lent.

I planned to prepare for this Easter, by watching a movie of the Gospel of John with hubby and boys. We still will. But, I have been a little distracted by life lately and not keyed into any real preparation.

However, just recently, I stumbled into my version of lent through necessity. I had been letting life steal little bits of me here and there while I turned to TV, food and my son's hand-held solitare game (and other such things) for reprieve. Recently, it seems, I have been blind to the damage my vices were slowly causing.

I was getting achy muscles. I couldn't fall asleep at night and couldn't wake up in the morning. I was exhausted all the time, as if a flu virus was looming. Alas, no flu ever came. My body was calling out to me to pay attention.

Finally, I was becoming constantly irritable and my S.O.D. (Sensory Overload Disorder) was in full gear. I've been hear before! Why did I let this creep up again? Where is my focus?

So yesterday, before I reached a break point, I started my own personal lent. (Though it is less about Easter and more about my life focus.) I had taken my eyes off of God. I had let my soul wander to empty distractions and let it spiral out of control. No more! Even if only for a day or two, I'm taking a break from TV. I've nixed coffee and sweets. I've denied myself mindless web-browsing and solitaire games. Each time I want to escape, as I had been, I turn right to God. Some Bible verses here and there, but mostly, in each moment I want to reach for a vice, I talk to God.

This has to do with self-denial only in the manner that it is what drives me to turn to God, giving me more and more cherished moments with him to address worry and hurt and fear, or just a moment to love him, acknowledge him.

The winter doldrums are over and it's time to get healthy again. I'm not just referring to physical health. I am talking about my mind, heart and soul. In all my life, I've never been able to achieve that alone; but when my God is at the center, it is oh, so real.

The Gift of Orchid

I saw my stepdad yesterday. He's about 4 weeks post open-heart surgery and doing very well. Wishing I was in more of a position to help him and take care of him, I bought him a book. You see, my kids and I have been sick for a month and I cannot bring sickness around him. I haven't been able to help. I thought the least I could do it help his sanity by giving him something intriguing to read. He's enjoyed Grisham in the past, so I found a new collection from him of short stories. Just as well since my stepdad's post-surgery attention span is suffering.

So there I was trying to take care of him, love him, when he surprised me with a Valentine's Day gift. My birthday is the day after V-day, but he clarified, this was not for my birthday, it was for Valentine's Day!

I am a novice gardener, but one who reads and studies and dwells in my gardens. I love my flowers. They are absent in winter. It can be very depressing.

He gave my my very first orchid for Valentine's Day. It is a very clear symbol to me of his unwavering support, love and mindfulness of me. It is a very clear representation of his humility, authenticity and generosity.

My stepdad "knows" me. He has peered at my heart and knows how to communicate with it, even though we have never found or made enough time to cultivate this beautiful relationship as much as we should.

I know the orchid won't last forever, but I know it is one gift I will never, ever forget. I am so thankful God put this man in my life. It is a confirmation of God's love, support and mindfulness of me. He knew I needed him.