A Woman-in-the-Making

She stands with cute, cropped hair, eyes sparkling, delicate ear-bangles dangling, face framed by deep magenta scarf...and while I'm shooing her out of here to run her errand, I know I'd rather just sit and stare at her...you know, like I used to when she was a little girl. 

Have you ever been mesmerized by your child's face? Those tiny features, lively eyes, precious smiles... As her features matured I thought I'd get over it, but apparently I haven't. Because, really, she's as much a miracle at 23 as she was when I first laid eyes on her. 

And here she is all grown up and poised, with just enough sophistication in her funky self to let you know she's a woman, not a girl, and just enough youthful excitement to make you wish...well, make me wish...that she didn't need to run off today.

As usual our conversation bordered on ADD...fun earrings, what the kids will need when they wake up, wide-eyed smiles and mutual gushes over colors we adore...like the deep rose-magenta of her scarf that we'd both secretly love to paint on a wall in our homes. We've always been able to skip happily through those mind mazes. Hand in hand, never lost in the transitions, and happy as clams to meander off the linear path. 

Our personalities are very similar, our struggles have been too. Last night, as had been our habit in days gone by, we talked long into the night of the deep and the difficult, of relationships, of who we were and who we are becoming. We walked the path of Jesus' hand in all of it, sharing common insights and more than a few "aha" moments.  

So as I gaze today, taking in far more than her animated words, the thought comes, "She is gorgeous...from the inside out. My daughter is beautiful!" 

She makes it halfway across the room before turning with something new to share. I chuckle, saying, "Go! You know we'll just keep talking forever." And so she finally drives off, but she's left a bit of radiance behind...and I think of her. 

I love hearing her heart, her struggles, her victories. I love sharing the ordinary and the fun things, shared passions and silliness. It is a privilege to journey as women together. 

Even when she was a girl that is how I saw her...a woman-in-the-making. Always in process. 

I never tire of watching God fashion His masterpieces.  

Women-in-the-making are beautiful.

Motherhood: A Message to My Daughters

Phone is buzzing...somewhere. Next to me? Reaching for it, half groggy, thinking, "Is she ok? Are they ok?"

As quiet voice from miles away tells of tiredness and queasy tummy, that "mom" thing kicks in. That mom muscle memory. You are suddenly awake, alert, and from someplace deep within, from Someone always there, you are calm. 

Seeking words of comfort, you speak. Wanting to know the right questions, you listen...and keep listening. And all the while you're praying. 

Two plates spinning is what you've done forever it seems. 

And then it comes to doing battle out loud...laying thousands of miles away on the same sofa that's seen many a night of prayer...for her...while she was a young girl, a pre-teen, a young woman in the making. So many battles fought on that very couch. 

Phone to ear, eyes closed, hand raised to the One who never sleeps...the words pour out, pleading strength, protection, and that all surpassing peace. Peace for bound up body...for arms, legs, tummies, peace for furrowed brow and aching head. "Jesus...please say peace be still over the waves of anxiety and yuck. Calm the storm...Send Your angels to stand guard in every room. Over the children, over my child."

And after a while (you are amazed at her perfect calmness), she calls her neighbor who comes to be hands and feet. Truly an angel, I say. And storm subsides. We say "I love yous" almost three hours from that first deep sleep phone buzz...and we hang up.

And then I weep. 

And I wonder...Does she know that this has always been the way with me? With motherhood? Each new battle with shield of faith, sword ready...knocking knees...and game face on.

Did they ever know that you were just as frightened as they were? Did they know that you held it together in the moment so that they would trust? And yes, your trust was there...There...too, but it did not mean you were not afraid or bone-weary. And always praying those thousand silent prayers as you nursed their wounds, comforted midnight fevers, sought wisdom, asked for healing. 

They need to know now. Now that they are "mom."

My daughters: You will be strong for the sake of your child...by the power of the One who gives lavishly, perfectly, lovingly. And when you are done, or even in mid-battle, you will draw away and cry...hopefully crying out to the One who is always there to hear, to catch tears, to lift your weary head and heart. You will let your weakness wash over you and be strengthened by His strength. 

Do not fear the fearing and the doubts. They come every time. But your trust in Jesus will prove itself. He will prove trustworthy. It is part of your journey, this collapsing on the sidelines when you've left it all on the field. And you will marvel that you're still alive! 

And after all is done, joy plants itself a little deeper. 

Faith stands taller. Gratitude for His presence...come what may...

will be the banner for your next battle.

This morning after my tears were spent, I opened the living Word and found life. Then I slept a little while...

Let the morning bring me word of Your unfailing love,
for I have put my trust in You.
Show me the way I should go,
for to You I lift up my soul.
~Psalm 143:8

 

 

On Brokenness

I was so moved by Ann Voskamps blog today...and thought again of her book, One Thousand Gifts, and how it had touched deep places of difficulty, hurt and healing in my life. She is a beautiful woman who willingly shares her journey, wearing her pain on her sleeve...even the pain of her own sinful heart...for the sake of encouraging others to thankfulness, wholeness and healing. One who has been shaped into a grace-giving vessel by that very pain and brokenness.

And it came to me.

That is the tenderizing...the pounding is the tenderizing. 

Have you ever weighed down against a cut of steak or a plump chicken breast with a meat mallet and a knowing-heart?

It's loud! And sometimes brings the kids running...

"What are you doing??"

"This meat is tough...and by pounding on it just enough it will become tender, instead of hard and chewy. Don't worry. I'm making it better," you might say to them.

And have you ever pounded so much that you ripped a hole? I have. Some chicken breasts are thick and and tough, some only look tough, but are fragile. How could I know?

Yet in our Father's care we are safe in the smashing and crushing of life and disappointment and grief. Of hurt and wounds and things gone terribly wrong.

Does he desire to hurt us? No.

But He does allow the pain...is with us in the pain...never lets the hand come down too hard.
He knit us together. He knows what we need...and the unfathomable ways that those needs will be truly met...with a re-shaping of vision, a newness of purpose far above what we'd asked or imagined, and a deeper joy realized.

And just when we think the weight and force of it will rip and tear and gouge, we look down...days, months, years later...and see that instead of holes, we have been made holy.

We have been broken to be built back up aright. 

We have been broken so that we might gaze upon 

brokenness with tender hearts. 

We have been broken so that we can be as bread to others. 

*   *   *   *   *   *   *

For my thoughts are not your thoughts,neither are your ways my ways, declares the LORD.

As the heavens are higher than the earth,so are my ways higher than your ways

and my thoughts than your thoughts.

Isaiah 55:8,9

And we know that in all things 
God works for the good of those who love him, 
who have been called according to his purpose. 
For those God foreknew he also predestined 
to be conformed to the image of his Son
Romans 8:28,29

The Joy of the Lord Is Your Strength

Have you ever heard God speak?
Or known that He arranged a conversation, a random blessing,
or even a song on the radio just for you?


Today I met a lovely woman, the sister of a lovely friend.
As I began to depart our conversation she grabbed my hand and said
...and I'm paraphrasing because I was so taken off guard at the moment:

"I have to tell you something." She met my quizzical look with, 
"I can see that the joy of the Lord is your strength."

I suppose I said something in response, though I can't tell you what it was.
Maybe a surprised, "Thank you?"

She went on to say, "As you walked over I could just see it all over your face!"

And this part I do remember...Me, "Wow. Praise God!" 
Then I tapped my fist over my heart and said, "I'm taking that with me...Thank you." 

And I walked away marveling at the voice of God. 

How could she see the joy of the Lord and NOT that I was hanging by a thread between composure and tears? How did that not show, God? And that verse? She has no idea that there's a history between You and me with that verse. I just met her.

How many times have I found myself in a muddle of tears, or fears, depression, or even the beginnings of a hard heart and run to You...knowing that if I can just fix my eyes back upon Your lovely face, Your holiness, majesty, restoring my joy in knowing You, Your grace and precious promises...that all would be turned right again? Shifting sand would turn to rock and I would have the strength to move on, to receive comfort, forgiveness, to press on.

And here again, in the midst of day two of a new difficult circumstance that wanted to rock my emotions even as I fought for faith, You brought the words,

"The joy of the Lord is your strength." 

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

Reveling in You...in worship, in prayer, or immersed in Your word, cultivating that joy in You has always been like finding true north again. No longer lost. No longer bereft or despairing. Eyes on You and the path becomes clear and straight. Eyes on You and weak knees are shored up, weariness replaced with fortitude, thankfulness...joy.

Thank you for Your voice today, Jesus, through a stranger no less...a precious sister in Christ who was bold enough to grab my hand and earnestly meet my gaze with the declaration and the promise of, "The joy of the Lord is your strength." Your words to me, perfectly timed...and reminding me of another truth:

"As for God, His way is perfect; the word of the LORD is flawless. 

He is a shield for all who take refuge in Him." 

2 Samuel 22:31

And thank you, sweet sister, for speaking what the Lord laid on your heart. You many never know that it meant the world to me in that moment as, on the inside with emotions waging war, your words reminded me that the Lord was near. And it let me know that even in the midst of a trial, His light could be reflected in my countenance. Wow. Praise Him, indeed!

"The joy of the Lord is your strength."

Nehemiah 8:10

I truly am holding this close to my heart in the days and weeks ahead.

Where Is Your Heart?

Where are you headed this year? 

More importantly...on it's present course, where is your heart headed?

Since I'm more of a be-er than a doer I tend to think of things through the lens of who I am and who I'm becoming as I journey in the doing. I am greatly encouraged and instructed by 1 Samuel 16:7... 

"Man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.” 

So my goals tend to be inward focused. "God, where is my heart? How is my heart? Where does it need to be...to go?"

I also want to consider where I am in life when forming expectations. Am I in transition? Am I grieving a loss? Is this a time of storm or calm? In the midst of it all, is my heart remaining anchored...am I drifting...or being blown off course? 

There will always be much doing...daily tasks, commitments to appointments, relationships, jobs, and areas of service. But in all that, how is my heart? Where is my heart? And where is my hope?

So now that the wave of preparation, activities and fun that marks each Christmas season has subsided, I have been longing to take a breath and reflect on where I am and where I'm going in this new year. 

Here is what I've realized as I've pondered in the quiet, and in the doing, over the past couple of weeks...

I’m still finding my sea legs for this new-ish journey of empty nesting (year two and holding steady); needing to find structure, but remain flexible. Same song as full time motherhood, I guess, but on an unfamiliar stage. I’ve dubbed this my New Middle School phase…with all the awkwardness and uncertainty that comes with being in between the old and the new. 

But in far greater hope, I remember that I survived those years the first time around without the benefit of life experience and deep faith. And I hear Jesus beckoning with a call that is also a promise, “Let us go over to the other side.” (Mark 4:35) I need to continue embracing all of this with honesty, trust, and patience knowing that I have those new morning mercies to cling to and a Savior that knows the way. 

He's calling me to persevere. He knows the way. He knows my heart. And He knows that I desire to always have my heart in His hands...my life, my coming and going, all things in His hands. I want to say, "With all my heart, I will follow Jesus," but I first need Him to show me where I'm keeping some of my heart to myself. And so I begin this new year...

Search me, O God, and know my heart; 

test me and know my anxious thoughts.

See if there is any offensive way in me, 

and lead me in the way everlasting.

 Pslam 139: 23,24 

*   *   *   *   *   *   *

Where is your heart? 

When it is "the end of the world as we know it"

Thoughts on 12/21/12...the much hyped, supposedly Mayan-predicted end of the world. 
Know that I am a flawed, ever-seeking follower of Jesus Christ. So grateful for His grace. It was Jesus who said, "In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” It is on the premise and promises of faith in Him and His word that I share.


"It's not the end of the world!" 

Has anyone ever said this to you? My mom used to say it all the time, very likely in response to some outpouring of girlhood drama, real or imagined. And I'm positive that it's thoughtlessly slipped from my lips dozens of times.

It's interesting how we often minimize the feelings of others, especially our children. Granted they are prone to huge emotional swings and patience can run thin...but do you remember times or events in your life that did feel like the whole world would end for the sheer doom that was pressing on your heart or giving you that horrid endless stomach-free-fall? Panic rising or dread falling? 

For every decade of my life I remember several, and I am certain that I've lived through scores more that lay forgotten in the kicked-up-road-dust of "life moves on whether we like it or not." 

Truthfully, it was easier to move on with life when those feelings of doom, hopelessness, and pain were acknowledged instead of minimized or dismissed...by me or, most often, by those who had authority in my life. Those whose responses shaped mine and whose perspectives either clarified or muddied my emotional reactions to the roller coaster learning curve that is life on earth. 

Why are we so uncomfortable with others' pain, grief, disappointment, depression? Or is it that we're only willing to be aware enough to say, "That's horrible!" as we comfort ourselves in the thought of, "Glad that's not my problem." And just because our children's complaints, fears, and desires seem childish to us, does this give excuse for not walking them through these things and helping them make sense of the world and their own emotions? 

Has ignoring something ever made it disappear from your heart? 

Does saying or thinking "it doesn't matter" really make it not matter? Do you ever stop and look at the things you've hauled around that were long ago filed as It Doesn't Matter...No Time to Deal With This...or one of the most effective "shut 'er down and make her feel small" categories...That's Stupid...which translates to "you're stupid and how you feel about this hard thing is stupid too." 

In these times where prayer requests come unceasingly from loved ones who need healing...in mind, body and soul...in marriages and families, from those who needs jobs and material provision, from those who are grieving and broken...will we stop and listen? Will we pray?

In a time of history where we as a nation have had tragedies pounding us like unrelenting body blows, will we learn how to handle loss or grieve well? Will we learn to allow time and space and grace for others to travel their road of despair? Will we let it change us and our relationships? Slow us down and cause us to reflect on how we, as individuals, can either throw down roadblocks and snares or make smooth the path of healing with our choice of words, attitudes, actions.

A week ago today our nation, but more specifically a community and a huge ripple of real families and children, had an "end of the world" day, a day that marked an indisputable end to hopes that represented a world to those who woke to an ordinary morning of work and school and holiday preparations. A world to all whose world had known the comforting presence of these precious women and children...and a semblance of peace and safety. 

This event was horrendous in it's magnitude of loss. There is no denying or diminishing that truth. And each day in each of our worlds the cries of death, pain, sickness, divorce, betrayal, fear, sorrow, and despair reverberate just as truthfully. Some seem small and trite, others are undeniably heart-wrenching, but pain is pain. How we deal with the small muddles gives us tools for the catastrophe. How we choose to show grace to those weaker, younger...our own children?...can make a world of difference in their ability to ride out the next inevitable storm. 

For those in Newtown, Connecticut and their loved ones, today is the one week anniversary of the end of their world. For others of us, our cataclysm...our unexpected crash, or slow ebbing away, our end of the world may have been weeks ago, months ago, perhaps years ago. No matter which, the end of anything that is "life as we know it" is a time for grief, real and raw...most often followed by cold, unpredictable sneaker waves that suck our breath and threaten to drag us under. 

Most of us have heard Jesus' parable of the house built on sand. (Matthew 7:24-27) The longer I live the more I realize the truth of His word picture. This world is all shifting sand. It is a place where evil, sin, and death all have sway. My hopes, my world, cannot be sustained upon it's promises. The only way I have weathered storm after storm, and pounding after pounding is by learning to set my feet upon a Rock that is not of this world, and the rock of His word. This is my firm foundation.

Hebrews 12:3 reminds me to, "Consider [Jesus] who endured such opposition from sinful men so that you so not grow weary and lose heart." These words show me ahead of time where to redirect my gaze in the times of trouble that will come. He has been my only place of hope in those "end of the world" moments and seasons.

But the intent of my challenge to you today is to look at your own responses to those around you who are suffering. Perhaps this will mean looking deep into why you respond as you do. Do you run from pain...yours and others...and why? 

Do you diminish the expressions of pain, confusion, or fear of those in your path, including your children of any age, or can you do battle with them by listening, listening, listening...and then, after you have really listened, speaking truth that is truth, not just the knee-jerk reaction of your own hidden pain or fears? Or your need to get back to your to do list?

When we are open to being healed we have the potential to be a healing balm in the lives of others. But know that there is pain in healing, just ask the burn victim or the physical therapy patient. Why do we expect anything different of emotional and spiritual healing? Do not run from this pain, embrace it. 

Pain will mold and shape your life anyway...

but you have a choice in whether you'll end up misshapen and bitter, 

or scarred, but whole. 

I have found this healing in Jesus, in His character and in His promises. He may correct, discipline, even painfully prune, but He never diminishes or dismisses me. He is a wise and tender physician who has walked the road of pain with me...so often carrying me when my legs and my mind buckled under life's strain, when my world was ending.  

Therefore, it is His tenderness that I long to share with others who are hurting. In view of His mercy, it is His grace I long to give. His long-suffering, His ability to suffer long...to be patient...that I need in order to really stop, share their pain, and with a heart ready to listen, come alongside. Whether the grieving parent or the wounded child, the sister who sees no hope, or the teen drowning in fear or depression, I want to be willing to walk this road of pain with others.

Am I ready for "the end of the world" in someone's life? Are you? 

How will you answer your young children in the face of the little calamities sent to shape them? 

How will you walk with another's grief? 

When we shut ourselves off from others with the habit of dismissing their pain, 

we not only miss out on the potential of helping them grow and heal, 

but, far worse, we become a part of the pounding 

that maims their hearts.

My favorite of God's promises is, "I will never leave you nor forsake you." Would that we lived even a pale reflection of that promise in each other's lives. 

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, 

the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, 

who comforts us in all our troubles, 

so that we can comfort those in any trouble 

with the comfort we ourselves receive from God. 

~2 Corinthians 1:3,4

He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds. 

~Psalm 147:3