I have something to say, with fear and trepidation….

Because who am I to even “say” anything to anyone? Who am I to act like I have anything together or have done anything right. Yes; I put a period there because it’s an obvious answer…not a legitimate question.

Honestly, I have felt like I’ve failed and not done the absolute best I could at much of anything, at least for the entire time I was doing it. Contrarily, I give everything I put my hand to my all. I go in full force, full heart, you get every bit I have to offer to that thing/person in that moment, that time. I love HARD.

I fizzle tho and I’ve watched myself compromise…allowing selfish desires to cause me to not give my best at times through the process, my all to what/who I know to be most important. That’s shameful and believe me, I feel it and fight it often.

I’m challenged in those times and spaces in my mind and heart to remember who God says I am, to remember the blood of Jesus that washes away ALL of my sin (WHEN I TRULY REPENT and TURN FROM THAT SIN ACTIVELY and sincerely), and I’m challenged to remember that though I fail (and often), I still have purpose and meaning and INFLUENCE.

“Influence.” “Impact.” My life, my actions, my love matters. And they matter not only for my own eternal destiny but for others. Yes, me, little ol’ weak puny me has a huge impact, influence, and is making a difference in other’s lives, either positive or negative. Especially those in my family; the ones the Lord has put directly under my care, those who I’ve “let in” to my life, decided I will minister to and be accountable for.

Do you know the power you hold?

I was reading about Libby Clegg. She’s a sprinter. And she’s blind. Ok. Um….Ok. Hmmm…(insert thinking emoji here…) Would you run a race if you couldn’t physically see? Would you seriously think, “I’m going to compete, in public, for everyone to see, even tho I’m BLIND and literally can’t see where to run. I can’t see well enough to run in the right direction. I can’t see to know if I’m going to fall in to a pit or smack full force in to someone and crash and burn on the race track, getting road rash all over my body, bruises, scrapes, pain. Would you do it? I wouldn’t. I full on admit it. Nope. I mean, why? That would be so vulnerable, so wildly exposing to my insecurities, my inadequacies, my pride, my dignity, my reputation, my physical comfort (lol), and to top it all off, my confidence. That would be one of those “setting myself up to fail” situations that could potentiality ruin me for awhile if I failed. It might take some time to recover from that, ya know? But she did it. Dang, she did it. And she won.

Much like a lot of us starting out at anything in life, stepping in to a calling or obeying the Lord by doing something even tho it’s scary and doesn’t make sense, right? Or those times you don’t feel equipped or well taught in the matter or qualified to do it…but you step out and obey anyway. What’s going to make or break that step??? Yes, the Lord is the ultimate story end, but He actually designed it all to be where we needed another human or humans to come alongside us and teach us, encourage us, mentor us, cheer for us, RUN with us….

You know why?

I realize I’m not her and I can’t speak for her, but looking in from the outside, watching the video of her running alongside the man who led her, guided her, was by her side every step of the way, she wasn’t as afraid because she was led well. Someone who could see beyond her ability took her under his wing and selflessly RAN next to her, with her.

She was led well.

Selah

I’m not gonna go in to all the spiritual parallels this carries, but I hope you’re feeling it, I hope you hear what I’m saying.

If he decided he didn’t care to practice with her every day, if he didn’t value her and her life, her purpose enough to put time in with her, to invest, to teach, to run alongside her, if he wanted the glory and pride of winning more, she would not have won. She would have fallen flat on her face, literally, or into someone else and ate dirt…that outcome would not have posted all over social media would it have? Or if it was, it would have been by people who cared more about making a dime on making fun of someone’s failure for a laugh. Quite different outcomes, yes? And quite different motivating factors. Quite different people. Which one are you? But more importantly, are you the guy who runs alongside?

His name is Christopher Clark…SO much respect. So much! Are you the guy who knows you carry the power to “make or break” someone? Thats not just a cliche. That’s a real thing.

Who’s under your care? Whether it be by blood, work, extended family, ministry, leadership in your job, home, or church, or a random person who sees you as an influence. Are you living your life, running the race alongside them, investing your all (if they’ve been put under your care), and especially if they’re your children. Are you being the person they need? Are you praying, supporting, encouraging, just being there, uplifting, running the race WITH them and valuing them as if they were yourself, knowing God created each of us in His own image and no one is of more value than another?

Jesus was the ultimate disciple-r. He was there. He said come and follow me and He exemplified what it looked like and sounded like to be kind, loving, good, an ever present help, an encourager, a lover, a friend, one who exhorted those around Him to step up to a higher level and become their best, and He wasn’t ever not on His game, like me. He wasn’t ever overtaken with selfish desires to just “have a break,” or “need to chill,” or “we all sin sometimes,” or “I’m too busy to invest in that person because they don’t really hold value to me.” Lord, have mercy on me, please.

EVERYONE held value to Jesus. He invested. He gave. He ran alongside…moves me to tears being a recipient of His mentorship, His discipleship, His love. He runs with me. He cheers me on. He sees me in His image even tho I’m not perfect and He values spending time with me as much as He does the most godly, prophetic, theological scholar out there. What humility. Thank You, Jesus. Thank You.

To my sons, my daughter in law, future DIL’s, my grandchild, and my future grandchildren, my parents, my in laws, my extended family, my friends, the ones the Lord puts in my path, I (won’t promise because God said not to), devote my heart to do what I can to run alongside you, to show you, you are valuable, to cheer you on as you step out in blindfolds not knowing much but obeying the Lord or trying a new thing, to apologize when I’m wrong, to love you, to pray for you, and to RUN (sometimes it might be walk-I do have a bum knee), to be real and weak and stupid and goofy and never perfect (but always desiring so), till I die. With Jesus, my side by side runner, guiding me in the dark, I will guide you as best I know how…unfortunately, not without sin or failure, but my heart is to TRY and to RUN. WITH. YOU always toward the cross. I will hold your hand even, uncomfortably maybe for you, but you’ll know I’m here for you. And hopefully know and feel comfortable telling me to stop holding your hand when you don’t need it. Haha

You have a purpose. You have an influence. You have an impact. Watch yourselves, put yourself aside and realize your life could quite literally make or break someone under your influence.

No matter who you are, you have a huge responsibility; not to be perfect, but to be there, to run alongside giving them your imperfect all.

Numbers 6:24-26 – The Lord bless you and keep you; the Lord make his face shine on you and be gracious to you; the Lord turn his face toward you and give you peace.

Amen.

Click and watch below. 🙂

@annewhite935

Completely blown away by this.. saw this yesterday and I can’t stop watching it! At first I thought it was a woman out running a man in a race but I looked further and oh my was my heart touched! This is beautiful Scottish sprinter Libby Clegg winning her race with her guide runner Chris Clarke at the 2016 Paralympics in Rio🏆🏆❤️❤️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🙌🏻🙌🏻 This forever reminds me how we are so much BETTER TOGETHER & that NOTHING IS IMPOSSIBLE when you BELIEVE IN YOU! ✨🌟✨🙌🏻 #mondayreminder #bettertogether #believe #inspiration #unstoppable #love

♬ original sound – Anne White

Continue reading “The Power Of Your Influence” →

I’m struck today by the goodness, kindness, mercy, compassion, and omnipotence of our Father God.  Where would I be without Him?  Where would my family be without Him?  Where would my parents be without Him?  Dead, carrying AIDS, on our death beds, addicted to drugs, divorced (more than just me once! ha), scared, hateful, headed to hell on a roller coaster just teasing us along the way, but making us vomit and get neck injuries, giggling in between as it slyly takes us way too fast toward the end.

My oldest son was in a car accident today and totaled his truck.  He hydroplaned going down a hill on wet roads as a tow truck was coming in the opposite direction.  He wasn’t able to get the truck back in to his lane and they hit, almost head on.  Thankfully, his air bag went off and saved his head and neck from what could have been an even worse  impact.  His wheel broke off the frame upon impact and the truck skidded another 25 feet or so on the frame of the truck, landing in the ditch, squishing the front, drivers side frame up to the front, cutting and bruising his shin.  That’s all he came away with tho…a cut to the shin.  My kids have cuts on their legs, shins, ankles, all the time from construction work, playing too rough at the river, building things with wood and sharp tools…a cut to the shin?  That’s it?!  PRAISE THE DEAR LORD ALMIGHTY!  Serious angels were on duty and have been over my children and their lives all along.  I’m sure I have no idea just how much.  God is relentless to hear our prayers of  angelic covering over his life and to continue to protect him from things that could have been so much worse.

This is the same son who was diagnosed with Epilepsy in May of this year.  He had 2 Grand Mal seizures about 45 minutes apart back in October 2018 and was rushed to the ER after cracking his chin open from going unconscious and falling to the tile floor below; then had the 2nd in the ER.  He wasn’t diagnosed then because the Dr.’s felt they were a random but common side effect to a medication he’d been put on about a month before and sleep deprivation (one of the most common causes of seizures, actually!).  He was put on anti seizure medicine and after a wait to see a neurologist for further testing to rule out Epilepsy, he was cleared from any epileptic behaviors and told he could discontinue his medicine when he felt comfortable doing so.  He stayed on them for a few months, then felt free to stop.  For about 4 months, he had no issues.

In May of this year, he left for work.  I blew him a kiss as I heard him leave, and about an hour and a half later, I got a call from the Emergency Room.  He had a seizure while driving to work.  With Grand Mal seizures there are 2 parts…the first is losing consciousness, then the entire body stiffens, teeth clamp down, then the convulsions, where the entire body shakes, every muscle is extended beyond normal abilities and can last up to the 5 minutes.  Once the seizure has passed, it can take 20 minutes or more for a person to become cognitive of where they are and who they are, much like coming out of anesthesia after a serious surgery.  After TWO, of these, it can take much longer…commonly, a week of sleep and rest and more like 30-45 minutes to regain consciousness and awareness of surroundings and with no time in between to regain awareness, the body is taxed.  He lost consciousness and his truck veered through an intersection, before hitting a massive ditch, driving up and over a large hill, through a sign, through a barbed wire fence, and through about 300 ft of an empty field, where the truck finally got stuck so deep in the mud it wouldn’t keep going.  Thankfully, someone saw the truck in the field and called 911 about 15 minutes after it had happened.  Once the fire department got to him, after fighting with the mud (there was an intense amount of rain this spring), the truck’s wheels were still spinning and his foot was still on the gas, despite his unconscious state.  They took him to the Emergency room where they had no idea what had happened, so quickly took him for a CT scan to try to check his brain and for any other clues.  While he was having the CT scan, he had another seizure, this time an even longer one.  He was quickly given anti seizure medicine to slow the seizure and to prevent any further seizures.  It was after he regained consciousness from this seizure that they were able to get a person’s name to call from him and they called me.

My first thought, especially not knowing any details at the time, was how thankful I was that he was ok.  My heart pounded and mid workout, I rushed off dripping in sweat, to the Hospital to see him and find out what had happened.  Upon arriving, he was groggy, still waking up, and felt tired, but happy to see me.  The Dr promptly explained what had conspired (or at least what they knew from the fire department EMT’s who had dropped him off), and explained how lucky he was to be alive.  I hugged him and hugged him, holding his hand and head.  He was still acting a little loopy and falling asleep every few seconds.  He’d been given high doses of anti seizure meds and was reacting to those and also the affects of 2 Grand Mal seizures back to back once again.

He was ok though…besides the affects of the seizures on his body, he didn’t hit anyone else crossing through that intersection, hadn’t hit his head, and had no other physical damage to his body, expect a scrape/cut on his foot that had come from the pressure of the gas pedal.  A MIRACLE.  An absolute miracle!!!!  There wasn’t anyone crossing through that intersection and light at that point, he didn’t hit another car, no one hit him, through all the huge impacts of the deep ditch and hill, sign and fence, he’d not been hurt.  Praise the LORD!  I was in absolute, “fall on your face” gratitude.  I had never been so overwhelmed with thankfulness and the recognition of God’s divine mercy, and the angelic protection that I knew had to have surrounded him that morning.  I was in awe.

He indeed slept for a week, waking up to eat now and then, and talk a little, processing as he went as he had no memory of what had happened that morning.  I slept next to him on the couch at night and didn’t go to work for half of the week, as I was on edge for his safety and hoping to protect him from any further problems as he recovered. We saw the neurologist again, who (long story short) diagnosed him with Epilepsy…one of the most ambiguous conditions out there, as they can only test so far in to the brain without killing a person.  Medications are often guess work, trial and error, and figuring out triggers is often impossible and never discovered.  We were all faced with trying to wrap our heads around such open ended news…what does this mean for his life?  What does it mean for his future?  What does it mean for him to drive?  How do we live with peace day in and day out as we “wait?”  How does he plan for his future with such a thing?

This is the same son who’s best friend passed away from a tragic car accident 2 Christmases ago…suddenly, abruptly, without seeming cause or purpose.  This is also the same son who’s biological dad (along with his younger brother) is homeless, living under a cliff somewhere, with numerous warrants from numerous states out for his arrest, for an array of different crimes, who they haven’t seen since they were 11 and 12.  (Huge redemptive story though…their step dad adopted them then and they have a wonderful example of a Godly man and loving father!)

This is only the last year or so of our lives…I’m not mentioning all that’s happened before this.  Suffering.  Why does it seem some of us are dealt more than our fair share and others seem to be dealt hardly any at all?  Why are there others who seem to have been dealt far more than seems purposeful and others living along side us who seem to rarely be put in a place of suffering/trial?  Honestly, I don’t understand this part of life, and to be real honest, I’ve shaken my fist at God and yelled at Him, telling Him how angry I am, more times than I can count.  Now, I do know that some of what we “suffer” are merely consequences or life playing out because of our own choices.  I’m not naïve to that…I know a lot of what I’ve suffered has been the result of my bad choices, but what about the ones that aren’t?  What about the things that seem to be for no reason at all, or because of someone else’s poor choices and yet our lives are still affected by them? What about the things that seem to be “out of the blue” and seem to come from nowhere?  These are the things I’m talking about.

At the end of the day, I go back to this, His Word…my breath and the very thing that sustains my life.

“I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace.  In this world, you will have trouble.  But take heart!  I have overcome the world.” John 16:33

And this, “But how is it to your credit if you receive a beating for doing wrong and endure it?  But if you suffer for doing good and you endure it, this is commendable before God.  To this you were called, because Christ suffered for you, leaving you an example, that you should follow in his steps.”  1 Peter 2:20-21

And this, “Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.”  Romans 5:3-5

And THIS:  “So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed for I am your God.  I will strengthen you and help you.”  Isaiah 41:10

Listen to this…

 

 

Every year, I ask the Lord for the verse that will sustain me and give me life for that year…the last 2 years, it’s been this, “Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer.”  Romans 12:12  I’ve been challenged to continue to lift up my song of praise in the midst of suffering knowing it’s one of our biggest weapons of warfare against the evil one-physically, emotionally, and spiritually.  I’ve not been perfect through any of the suffering we’ve endured, but my prayer is the Lord would do His work in me through it and I would come up leaning on my beloved Savior.  I love what she sings at the end of the song I included above…”I’m starting to see the darkness around me is just the shadow of Your wings.”  What a beautiful picture of a renewed mind that’s beginning to see the darkness, life, suffering, trial, hardship with the mind of Christ which He gives us when we give our lives to Him…the covering and nearness of God, even through hard things is still ever present, more near than we can often see or feel-so close that we’re covered by the shadow of His wings over us.  He never leaves us or forsakes us.  We can’t give up.  We have to press in (and sometimes for me it’s been a clawing, scraping, digging, kicking and screaming, wailing journey to continue to carry Godly hope in my heart.  In the end, I also know and believe that this life isn’t all there is.  We have an eternal hope because His promise is a triumphant victory in the end and a life with Him for eternity if we don’t give up.

About 2 years ago, in the midst of suffering/trials, knowing that thanksgiving is my way to hope and God’s goodness can be seen in every situation…I started listing as many “good in the sitch (situation)” as I could find.  I texted them to a friend every day to renew my heart to see God’s goodness and remember His faithfulness, despite what life looked like in that moment.  It’s changed my attitude and heart and gives me a practical pathway to steer my heart back toward thankfulness and perspective…always praying I come out on the other side stronger, more appreciative and aware of His goodness and love for us, knowing in my mind (and eventually my heart completely!) that He loves me and my family, His children, even more than I do.

And God willing, one day I’ll actually, really and truly REJOICE in my heart knowing that the suffering is producing (as long as I’m submitting myself to Him and His will) perseverance, character, and HOPE that does not disappoint.

Amen.

 

 

 

 

I hope you listened to that before you started reading this post.  My oldest listened to this over and over, loud, in his headphones, after what I’m about to write…it’s powerful.  There are few albums I’ll totally vouch for, this is one of them.  The whole album.  So. Moving. Inspiring. God Breathed.

It speaks of and reminds me of what I’m feeling tonight.

I listen to it about every other day because of what I’m about to write.

A year and 3 months ago, our oldest son’s best friend died in a tragic car accident…an unjust, unfair, awful car accident.  Yesterday was his 21st birthday.  TWENTY ONE.  It wasn’t his fault.  My oldest and second born sons (who have been through more than they should have before they were 10-because of my bad choices) mourned his death deep.  He was a breath of fresh air to them, another guy the same age with so many of the same interests, the same ideas, same thoughts, same silly, beautiful, crazy humor, even the same life occurrences as them, like playing soccer at the same age, not liking it, playing other sports, liking football, having a little brother, so many other things I can’t even remember…I just remember when they told me all of the things that were the same as them and that they had in common, it was UNREAL, like instant brothers, who had been doing the same things for all those 19 years, and believed and felt the same about God, who loved their families the same, and had the negative and even somewhat cynical ideas about life as each other.  Just the most amazing friendship I’ve ever seen.  Luke Ross was a gift to my boys, to our family.  Our oldest would come home lit up…talking about his Luke, like he was the friend you hear about people having but they had never experienced and he had found him.  He was so happy, felt like he could conquer the world with him helping him through…classes at JBU, life, girls, struggles…and then our 2nd born fell in love with him quickly after.  The talk about this kid was mind blowing…kind of like a movie, like, he was too good to be true.  He was a gift.  He was a gift.  I tell them often, “at least you were able to know that kind of friendship, even for a short time, than never to have known it at all.  I believe you’ll forever be grateful.  That’s rare.  Thank Jesus for Luke.” And they do.

I had to go in and tell them the news, Dec. of 2017, on Christmas break, just days before Christmas.  They were sleeping in late that morning, enjoying no responsibilities and much needed sleep.  I got the call and my heart not only sunk, but sunk so far that I couldn’t understand what was happening.  I cried out in my Spirit, not out loud, “Jesus, what is happening? How do you expect them to get through this? What do I do? WHY DID YOU ALLOW THIS??!! Why?!  Why?!!!  His mom…his family, his friends…why?!!!!!”

I fell to the ground in my room.  I gasped for air.  I didn’t know what to do.  My thoughts ran and went crazy…what was I going to do?  We had family at the house and I couldn’t even fathom what had happened….this gift that had finally been given to our kids, was taken away.  I knew there was someone like them out there.  He was him.  He was Luke Ross.  He was him.  And now he was taken from them.

“Jesus?? You’re holding me together.  Jesus? My heart is yours.  Jesus?  I’m running to your mercy.

(Found In You-Josh Baldwin (The War Is Over album, made for me and my boys for this season)

But, Jesus?? Where are You?  What?  Why?  What?  Jesus????

I told Daryl and asked him to go with me.  We were shaking…our knees, literally weak.  Our hearts and minds, souls, went in to “help our kids get through this” mode-something only the Lord could give.

My boys looked at me in awe, in disbelief, with eyes that I could see couldn’t believe what I was saying, and why I would say it…eyes that couldn’t understand, but eyes who accepted what I was saying, understood, and immediately grieved and missed his presence…

Then after understanding what I was saying,  their faces turned in to their pillows, in sobbing, weeping, tears, at the realization that their best friend who was almost to wonderful to be true, was gone.

I don’t pretend to be grieving like his mother, his father, his family…I don’t know their pain, we don’t know their pain.  But we know that God is our only hope.  I, today, as I struggle with why God allows such things to some of us who’ve “suffered” more than others ever seem to, know that God is my only hope.  God is my boys’ only hope, now and forever.  He is the only One I cling to.  He is the One I count on to hold them behind and before until the day He returns or He calls them home.  What would we have without Him?!  Nothing.  Nothing.

My oldest listened to this album loud in his headphones, so loud, I could hear it from outside the headphones, for months after Luke’s death.  God is our/your only hope.  God is real.  God is bigger than death, than sorrow, than hurt, than injustice, than pain, than anything you can imagine.  Cling to Him.  Get Your Hopes Up.  Let Faith Arise.  Heaven really is for real. I’ve been astonished and blown away by Luke’s family after his death…the reality of Heaven and that Luke is there, that they WILL see him again, and that he is actually better off than down here, has BLOWN me away, humbled me if I was honest. They have shown so much love, so much faith, so much hope because they know Luke is with Jesus, better off than we all are! Wow.  Ross’s, we love you.  You’ve made a huge impact on our lives.

If you need prayer tonight for faith and hope, please message me.  I will pray for you.  Life is full of sorrows, but if you allow it and recognize it, if you are with Him, it is full of JOYS as well.  You have to open your eyes and recognize.  He loves us.  He allows what will make us stronger, if you lean in to Him and allow Him to change you and mold you through it.  It’s worth it.  Just do it.

He is a good and merciful God.  He really is, no matter what.  Ross family, we love you.  We pray for you daily.

In Memory, love, and appreciation for the life of Luke Ross and his amazing family who made him the way he was and loved him even more than we do.  Blessings in the Name of Jesus to you.  Blessings to my boys in the Name of Jesus today and forever.  You are good, God, today and forever, to me and my family.  I believe and proclaim it.

AMEN.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Have you ever walked in the woods alone at night?

I hadn’t either because I was always WAY too afraid. The woods…Northwest Arkansas’ hilly, mountainous terrain, perfect for all sorts of animal life, like bobcats, mountain lions, bears. You’re stupid to even be out there.

I’ve never been able to walk in the dark for more than a few seconds (by myself) without looking behind me…feeling this rising up fear, that something’s back there and I need to look to make sure I’m not about to be mauled or slashed to pieces by a serial killer who decided to be in my woods, on my street, that night and cut me in to tiny pieces and spread me out over my yard….or by a cheetah, or lion, in my woods because rabies has surely suddenly broken out, suddenly, the nights I choose to walk late.

I hate it.  FEAR.  I’ve lived with it all of my life.  I HATE IT WITH A PASSION.  I WANT TO SLASH IT WITH A DULL, UNEVEN BLADE MAKING IT BLEED AND BLEED AND DIE A SLOW DEATH.

It’s been awhile since I’ve written.  We got some discouraging news (again) tonight about one of our kids.  My hubby’s out of town, as usual, and I rolled my eyes through fighting back tears of an unknown future and the reality I had to present the news to my son, without backup, while my youngest was playing a basketball game and family was waiting in the stands for me to return.  What do you do?  If I’d been writing for the last 14 years, you’d know that every time my husband goes out of town for any amount of time, it seems something goes wrong…someone gets sick, I get sick, someone has a dramatic meltdown, someone gets broken up with, someone’s car breaks down and no one is available to help, we get bad news about someone’s life, someone is up all night throwing up, someone is up all night crying, someone is up all night in fear, something out of the ordinary….  basically, I have felt like the Lord has said, “am I your rock or is your husband your rock?” for the last 14 years after marrying the person who became my rock after not having one.  Little did I know, Jesus was jealous for that position and wouldn’t give it up to anyone else.  Oh, Jesus!  Ok!  I love you too!  I DO, I DO, I DO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I walked in the woods tonight after some hard, unknown news…news you have to wait for a few days to find out, news about someone you love…HARD.

I walked in the woods and I wasn’t afraid of what was behind me.  I wasn’t afraid of what was behind me.  I wasn’t afraid of what was behind me.

I didn’t need to turn the flashlight around and check if the serial killer was there.  I didn’t need to turn the flashlight around and make sure the strange, mauling mountain lion (which we have in our very woods and has been seen!) was there.  I didn’t.

I stopped.  I listened to the woods, the night, creation.  I’m so thankful I can hear creation where we live without the sounds of people, to be honest. Have you ever heard the rustling of the woods in winter, especially at night?  The rustling of the dry, dead leaves that are getting ready to come back even stronger and more beautiful, more robust and thick, more green and hanging on like never  before to the tree, the foundation they’re attached to that is giving them their very breath and life???

The rustling…it’s quiet.  It’s still.  It pulled me away from every worry, every fear, only because Jesus, Himself, is in the wind.  Jesus, Himself is in creation.  Jesus, Himself…my ONLY  hope.  My only comfort and peace.

We could go all sorts of ways with this post…deep in to how important it is to not be ashamed or forget your last because if you forget where you’ve been you won’t know where you’re going (or something like that), or how what’s happened before can’t hurt us anymore because we’re wiser and have grown and become one more step forward like Jesus, or how because I’ve been through a few hard things I’m not afraid as much and that’s amazing. But really I just waned to leave it right here. My God is in the wind. My God is in me. My God has not left me alone to do life without any help or extra heart girthing grace (is that a thing? It is now.). Yep, it’s true. He gives us heart girthing grace WHEN we need it. Not before or after, but when we need it, it’s always been there.

He doesn’t fail us. He doesn’t leave us. He doesn’t make us do it alone. We need to recognize the mercy in the grace He gives and pick it up and hold on to it.

“So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you.” (Isaiah 41:10)

If you don’t know Him, please ask me how you can.  I’d love to share my Jesus with you.

So, I’ve been a mom for 20 years now.  I realized today, that’s longer than I’ve done anything (and as my son who made me this said, “faster than most!” with a big thumbs up.  I was only a daughter, a single girl (not married or with child) for 18, only without children for 19, only married for 14 (that’s my record :)), and been a mom for 20.  WOOT!  I guess from now on, I’ll always have been a mom longer than anything in my life.  I kinda like that, more than like that.  Some of the thoughts that go through my mind about my life though, are stuff like, “What big things have I accomplished?” “What am I proud of that I chose to do?” “What have I done well?” “What will I be remembered for?” “What am I doing for Jesus that will make a lasting impact?”

While some may look at my life and say, “Not much of any of those things will make lasting impacts or are big,”  I have to disagree.  Not because I’m awesome, but because Jesus.

I’m coming up on my 40th birthday.  I don’t care a bit about the number.  I don’t even care that I’m that old, to be honest.  I do care about some of the unfortunate things that are happening to my body that happen to be true after hearing about them all these years like…”When you turn 40, your body starts falling apart.”  “When you turn 40, gravity suddenly becomes stronger.”  (I just made that one up just now, but you’re going to start hearing it any day now.)  “When you turn 40, it gets so much harder to lose weight.” Darnit if they aren’t all true.

If you’d have asked me when I was 10-20 what I wanted to be when I grew up, I’d have given you a number of passing ideas that sounded exciting (like being a stewardess so I could travel and see all sorts of countries and get paid for it, or a missionary which I’d still like to be), but the underlying, overruling thing was to be a mom. It’s all I really wanted to be. So, would you look at that, I accomplished what I wanted to be! I’m a winner! Woot! And when 40 rolls around, I’ll have been a mom for OVER half of my life!  Yaaaassssss!  😉

BUT, it has made me ponder life a little more (though sometimes I think “pondering” is just a more romantic way of saying you’re overthinking life).

After a talk with a friend this morning, I realized, there are 2 things (well, just 2 that really stood out enough to share today!)  I’ve learned about motherhood that I think are worth sharing.

OK, number one…life as a mother is always changing.  The very minute you start thinking you have that baby and his schedule figured out, he and it changes.  That doesn’t just happen for the first few years of a kid’s life either, like they say (the first few years they change the most).  They will always change, their needs change, their desires change, their likes change, their dislikes change, their bodies change, their schedules change, their clothes change, their attitudes change, their emotions change and their demands on your emotions change, and your life changes with all of those changes, if you choose to GROW with them (which I highly exhort you to do if you don’t want to be fighting life and the Lord for the rest of your life-because if you’re a mother, you’re a mother for the rest of your life).  Learning to be flexible and “fluid” is so key as a mom.  I don’t really like that term, “fluid,” but it really is the picture I have in my mind of who you need to be as a mother.  Like a river that changes as the levels of water rise and fall, moving rocks to the side, giving way to wider open spaces in some spots and more shallow, soft places in others, roaring and sweeping away everything and anything in it’s path when the rains come, and low, quiet trickling when it’s dry, you have to learn to wake up each morning and let life not look like the yesterday, to be ok with your family looking different from season to season, even from day to day.  You can not control your child in to fitting in to the picture of what you want your life to look like.  I repeat, you can not control your child in to fitting in to the picture of what you want your life to look like. Teach your child, yes.  Teach your child, you better.

“Train a child in the way he should go and when he is old he will not  depart from it.” Proverbs 22:6

But controlling your child to fit YOUR needs, controlling your child, your husband to fit what you want life to look like to you and others, controlling your child with shame and punishment to make sure it fits your ideas of life will only cause resentment, your child learning that love looks like control.  I remember reading about a God who said He wouldn’t MAKE us love Him.  He gave us free will to CHOOSE to love Him because that’s true love.  If He made us, He wouldn’t be receiving real love from us.  If we make our child love us or fit our box, we aren’t loving them like our Father loves us.  LOVE your children, your husband, even if it means you look foolish or not like a great mom, or it embarrasses you because their choices are less than the best, but keep loving them and directing them, training them…

What we don’t realize is that along the way of training and along the way of not departing, it could be ugly and messy.  Along that lifetime of a road (because training a child in the way he should go doesn’t mean you stop when he’s 18 and he won’t ever leave the Lord or get a little distracted along the path to Heaven.  Train a child in the way he should go all of his life…because I am a child.  You are a child.  We are in process to our way to eternity with our ultimate prize and freedom, Jesus.  Open up your heart to some grace for yourself along the journey and don’t depart from training up your child and your own heart…it’s ever changing and ever needing new attention.  Don’t forget to be attentive to each, daily.

“Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it.”  Proverbs 4:23

As a mother, you have the responsibility to guard your own heart first, then your childrens’ hearts.  Do it with all you have, as if unto the Lord, my friends.  It’s exhausting, yes, but worth it, yes, most definitely.

The second thing is…quit comparing.  Quit comparing your life in general, your home, your children and their accomplishments or growth, your body, your marriage, your finances, your clothes, your abilities as a mother, wife, and woman, your shoes, your schooling options, your fashion sense, your wounds, your brokenness, your past experiences, your future experiences, your “success” in ministry or discipleship, your relationship with the Lord, the way your laundry smells, the way your house smells, your husband’s prayer life, your prayer life, your legs, your arms, your boobs, your wrinkles, your beach bod, your lack of beach bod,  whether you eat keto or paleo, whether you give your child sugar or whether you don’t, whether you even make your kids eat veggies anymore after 20 yrs of being a mom (is that just me?), whether you use cloth diapers or disposables, whether you shop at Target because theres been controversy or you don’t, whether you let your 12 year old mow the yard or not, your child’s cuteness, your child’s lack of cuteness (wait, that’s not a thing–your child’s the cutest even if they aren’t).  Quit comparing.  It will only suck the life right out of you and keep you from being the mom your child needs and the Lord appointed you to be for that specific child.

I spent so many years of being a mom trying to prove to everyone that I could do it and I could do it by myself, that I knew how.  Instead of asking for help and RECEIVING help, I wanted to prove my worthiness because I had put myself in the position I was in because of my own choices.  I compared to anyone and everyone what it should look like and because I didn’t measure up to any of the others I saw, I felt worthless and like a failure most of the time.  I listened to other’s input when I shouldn’t have and didn’t seek Godly advice when I should have.  I didn’t want to be the imperfect mom that needed help during the church service, or at the soccer game when it was my first season as a soccer mom, or at school when I had never had a 3rd grader in public school, or at home when my kids were rebelling and I didn’t know what to do.  I felt lost, alone, sad, desperate, hopeless and like a horrible mother.  Just don’t do it.  Ask the Lord what YOUR life looks like, what your finances should look like, what your marriage should look like, what love really looks like and for the grace to model it to your specific children who has specific needs no other child on the planet will have, for grace to be content with what your body looks like, with what your walk in schooling looks like, for help to embrace and find ALL the joy in your days as mom and for the ability to rejoice in every changing season for who your kids are and are becoming and who you are and are becoming as you grow with them.  Ask Him what it looks like to be mom to THIS child of His, to this husband He gave you who was once a very specific, unique child himself.  Ask the Lord what it looks like for you as a woman, wife, mother to be the best you can be in every aspect, with every different hat you wear all at the same time and what He says is good for you and DO IT with joy, never looking back or to the side at anyone else.

Now, I’m not saying not to seek wisdom or prayer or help!  No way!  Ask for help!  Ask for advice (but weigh it before the Lord!), ask for prayer for your family and be open to others input…we NEED each other!  God made us that way, but He didn’t make us all to be the same or do the same things, or treat every child or husband or life the same.  Ask for discernment and wisdom…He gives it freely.  What a gift!  And lastly, be ok with not being perfect…what you don’t realize is, none of those friends or acquaintances you “see” are perfect, even when it looks that way.  You aren’t either.  Be ok with it.  Be the mom who isn’t afraid to ask for help, who isn’t afraid to look imperfect because I’ve actually found I like those ones the best.

January 30, 2018

Alright, disclaimer before I even begin: I do not pretend to be a learned woman, a tech savvy woman, a woman who is up on the times as much as I should, a super political woman, a smart woman, or really aware woman (the most techy thing I’ve done in 3 years is this blog…I still only have the free pandora on my phone because I know it and don’t want to think about having to learn something new like spotify—I admitted that)…BUT, I do have opinions. That’s all this blog is, people. My opinions, my experiences, my insights in life that could possibly help encourage, uplift, or even just make someone else know that it’s ok not to be perfect, and it’s ok to be real…God still loves us and others will too.

So, all that said, I have a beef I’d like to share. I took my almost 18 year old son out to dinner the other night to this fantastic Mexican restaurant (there HAS to be a Hispanic person somewhere in our line, cause we could eat Mexican food all day, e’r day)  and while we were eating another family came and sat at the table behind us. My son was facing them, they were to my back. A young guy maybe 9 years younger than I (I knew him), starts off talking to his father in law about how disappointing it is that this generation, the “Millennials” (mind you, according to most people, if your age is from 16-34 are technially in the Millenial category, so this dude IS a Millenial-the very “generation” he was dissing.  Educate yourself.) are the ones we have to rely on to vote for our next president and how they’re bound to screw it all up. He goes on to talk about …

Millennials, if you even know who you are (becasue there actually isn’t a real identifier for these generational names (LOOK IT UP))… I want to say, I am sorry. I am sorry for every stereotype out there about you. I am sorry for every older (or not older, but think they are) person who puts you down and doesn’t have any hope or faith in you. I am sorry that what OUR generation has created with cell phones and social media and not disciplining our kids well or consistently, and taking God out of your schools, and letting men and women go to the bathroom in the same bathroom, and letting small children who’s brains haven’t even fully developed (I don’t have to have a PhD to know this) decide if they want to be a boy or a girl, has affected you so much and now YOU are having to figure out how to fight it…how to come back to the middle ground again, how to regain balance in the midst of this craziness.  What insanity we have created for you.  I’m sorry.

But I believe you will come back to the middle ground. I’m praying you will. Not every young person is out of control on social media, I know that. Not every young person has abandoned their faith in the One who will sustain, not every young person is a lazy, narcissistic slob with no respect and I believe you can be respectful, intelligent, confident in the way God made you, responsible, God fearing, brave, hard working, honoring, courageous, humans who think of others before yourself and care more about real life than your twitter and insta feed.

You may not have a World War to come back from, but you have a spiritual and internal battle that you will have to fight and win. You will have to decide who you are going to be and who you believe in and fight for it. You’ll have to find where you get strength from when your instagram feed falls apart because every guy following you realizes you don’t actually look like your pics because you PhotoWonder-ed them all and accept who God made you; and even more, believe and know you are beautifully and wonderfully made by your Creator, God, despite what the culture around you is telling you to believe. You’ll have to fight not to compare yourself and your life with everyone else who only posts the positive and come to find joy in God, the Creator of Heaven and Earth, and that He loves you and there is real HOPE to be found and held in Him. You’ll have to fight to be content with not having everything you want and learn to be content with nothing. Philippians 4:11-13 (From the Bible, this was a man named Paul talking)  “I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances.  I know what it is to have plenty.  I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want.  I can do all this through Him who gives me strength.”

You’ll have to fight to recognize things don’t come easy and hard work really does pay off. You’ll have to fight to let the Lord soften and change your heart to respect your elders and honor those who came before you even if we really screwed up and didn’t do a very good job raising you. You’ll have to learn to forgive. You’ll have to learn to love. You’ll have to learn it’s ok to be real, the real you, and know that those that love you still are the ones you need to worry about and that God ALWAYS WILL love you.  You’ll have to fight to learn the things we should have taught you and been examples of to you.  I’m sorry.  You have a fight before you.  But I believe every fight, every tribulation, every hard thing you go through and overcome with God’s help in humility and surrender, only makes you stronger.

I was sitting across the table from a young man that night who, despite whether he knows it or not, has strength beyond his years because of the FACT that “He who began a good work in you is faithful to complete it” (Phillipians 1:6) and because “Our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all.” (2 Corinthians 4:17-the Bible).

Fight the good fight, “Millennials” (whoever you think you are).

“Fight the good fight of the faith.  Take hold of the eternal life to which you were called when you made your good confession in the presence of many witnesses.”  (1 Thessalonians 6:12-the Bible)

And remember what you say here on earth is done in Heaven, and what is done in Heaven if you are in His will, is done on Earth.  Your words are powerful…speak LIFE to you and others.  Matthew 18:18-the Bible “Truly I tell you, whatever you bind on earth will be bound in Heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in Heaven.”

Amen.

Sept. 19th, 2017

Yesterday we celebrated our 13th wedding anniversary. 13. Whoa. And here I am celebrating/posting/giving credit to it, a day late. Oops. Daryl and I have often joked over our years of marriage, that in some ways, he’s much more like the girl in this relationship and I’m much more like the typical man. It’s true. Whether it’s that way because of past hurts, past relationships, past lifestyles or whether I’ve changed and don’t carry the natural “romantic” gene I’m not sure, but either way, he ALWAYS remembers our anniversary, ALWAYS remembers my birthday, ALWAYS gets me something and celebrates in some mushy, sweet, romantic, roses all over way, and I…well, sometimes I forget it’s our anniversary, sometimes I don’t get him anything for his birthday and forget to even say happy birthday (that’s only happened once. For real.), and sometimes (most of the time) I don’t have time or the desire for romantic nonsense that only makes me feel uncomfortable. Isn’t it uncomfortable? Like, I feel like I have to smile a certain way, and looking in to his eyes never feels natural. It feels like I’m trying to recreate a movie scene or something where the people are so stupidly stunned by the other’s “something” that they just sit and stare and smile weirdly…who does that?!

Anyway, I’m thankful for a husband who tries to keep the romance alive and does a smashing job…if he didn’t, I’d quickly forget what it’s like to be “romanced” and how that softens my heart and mind and makes me feel warm and fuzzy, as if I’m loved no matter what I look like or how much weight I’ve gained that year because I was pregnant, or how I just totally screwed up the night before and yelled at him.  He still thinks I’m beautiful and wonderful and wants to hold MY hand.  He still likes to be around me, and he still likes to buy me things, and still has the brain power to think of ME during his super busy day and buy me a red mum for our anniversary because he knows I love flowers, but even more I love to decorate, so a mum is the best of both worlds for a September anniversary (some of you hear me!). I’d forget what its like to feel KNOWN, to know someone has my back (even when my back is nasty-figuratively and literally), to feel I can change the light bulbs and fix the toilet if I want to but that I don’t HAVE to do it alone because he’ll gladly do it for me, to know he’s on my team, on my side, FOR me. So, here’s where I’m gonna get spiritual…isn’t that kind of like Jesus with us? And how would I know that so well without such a great example of that in my life (Daryl). No, I’m not saying Daryl is Jesus. He’s not. He’s way not. But, he’s probably the closest example of Jesus I have ever seen. He’s the most servant hearted, most loving, my biggest fan, my biggest cheerleader, the most selfless person I know in regards to me. And He romances me even better…isn’t that what natural marriage is supposed to parallel? It is, according to the Bible. He’s supposed to “love me like Christ loves the church and gave himself up for her” according to Ephesians 5:25. Dannnnnnggg. That’s a big assignment right there! I’m kinda glad I’m not a man. Fo’real, people! Love your wives like Christ loves the church…wow.

I’m going to admit right now, being a Christian man or woman is not for pansies.  If you’re not a Christian, you’re taking the easy way out.  Yep, I said that.  I’m not sorry either.  There’s too much at stake anymore for us to pussy foot around and not “hurt your feelings” so we don’t push you away.  Jesus is a man.  Jesus is real.  Jesus is coming back soon and He loves me so much better than my husband any day of the week, even though I have an AMAZING HUSBAND WHO I COULD CRUSH ON ALL. DAY. LONG!!!!  Men who love Jesus, know you are going to be rewarded for what you do to love your wife as Jesus loves the church.  That is not easy.  Wives are not easy to love….I’m one of them.  I’m happy one second and demanding he change every freakin’ thing he’s doing in his entire life the next and I’m sorry.  I really am.  But he loves me through it.  He really does!!  That is so, SO AMAZING.  He knows where I’ve been.  He knows what’s been done to me.  He knows how I’ve not been loved and how I’ve been mistreated.  He knows me.  And he LOVES me.  He tries his hardest every day to make sure I know he thinks I’m beautiful.  That is amazing.  He tries every day to show me he would rather be around me than anyone. Oh, GOSH.  You guys, he’s so close to Jesus it might be blasphemy.

Amen.

 

 

 

Nov 6th, 2017

So, turns out carpel tunnel surgery isn’t that bad after all…but not the not using your hands, for me, torture. I won’t lie, it hurts to use my fingers and the surgery is uncomfortable. But a little ibuprofen has been all I’ve needed…wow. So unreal, right? They cut your hand open and cut a pretty honkin’ tendon thingy in there straight in half, and not much pain. How’s that work? Funny story about it real quick, then I’ll get to my real post. So, my dad and his dad have always taken way more anesthesia and local numbing then it seemed possible or needed for their size, weight, all that. We found out I’m the same way when I had my c-section…3 hours of the anesthesiologist and everyone else watching me come in and out of conciousness and pass out again over and over because I could literally feel the huge hole in my stomach and he didn’t believe me because he said he’d given me enough to put me out. Well, was I out? No…

Anywhoo, I go in for the surgery and Daryl now makes me tell everyone in the medical field about how I seem to take way more meds to actually put me out and how my dad’s the same way because it was so hard on him to watch me after that c-section and he loves me so. (blush)  I just hate telling people because it’s always felt like they thought I was lying and just wanted more pain meds or more morphine to knock me out or something. I don’t know why I’d want to be MORE knocked out rather than just plain ol’ knocked out, but something about it made me feel like they thought I was surely lying and had some ulterior motive.

So, I’m telling the anesthesiologist about it and feeling all guilty and he says, “you must have an elevated level of “such a such” enzyme in your liver. That’s a genetic thing that’s kind of rare, but when you have an elevated level of it, it causes you to need more of everything, basically, and it often runs in families.” What the what?!?! I felt so validated in that moment…so many surgeries, so many hospital trips (all of which you’ll hear about in “My Story” if you want to) that I felt like I was a drug addict, only to find out it’s a real thing and I’m not crazy, and there’s actually a medical reason for it?! (other than we’re just weird or because our bone structure is so solid or we’re so muscly (;)) , or we just have this super high pain tolerance or whatever other excuse we’d been using for all these years which made me kinda feel fat or like a man and kind of like a horse). So, he gives me something for nausea and says we’re going back now. OK. They put you all the way under for just a minute to do the local block because that’s such a crucial part, then bring you back awake for the actual surgery. I think I went under for a sec, but boy, I bounced back quick and there he was as I was rambling on and on to my surgeon who’s behind the curtain doing all the crunching noises I heard, telling him how much he looked like my nephew and how I really had fond feelings of him and how it comforted me strangely that he was doing my surgery because he looked like my nephew and how when I got my next hand done, I definitely wanted a picture with him so I could show my nephew. (oh gosh, embarrassing!)  He just said, “ok”…I’m sure he was just humoring me knowing I was a little loopy and wouldn’t have normally told him that, but actually I had already decided I was going to tell him that during the surgery so I was actually way more with it than he thought. Haha, joke’s on him. The anesthesiologist proceeds to tell me, “ya, you sure do have that elevated level of “whatever it is” because I had to give you DOUBLE what I’d normally give someone your size and you’re STILL talking to me. I was like, really?! Ha, that’s funny…ya, I feel like I’m pretty fine right now and he was like, ya, you are. Surgery was done. They sit me up, I see the bandage, we put my sweater back on, I get up and walk out to the car where Daryl’s waiting and we go eat Thai food where I start to feel my fingers already and think I’m in for it. But nope, no big deal. Pain wise, it’s alright.

I can’t do anything though, other than type slowly and very gently guide my pants up with my left hand. That means, I can’t really cook, do dishes, sweep, clean, even take a shower without having to shave my right pit with my right hand (ever tried that? It’s not pretty, but I’m getting ‘er done. Who wants a hairy right pit?) It’s throwing me all off…what do I do? It’s kind of like quitting smoking. Any of you done that before? It’s like you have to learn how to do your whole day all over again just differently. Like, you have to think about everything you do before you do it and not do most of what you’d normally do. And all inside, you have to wrestle with these feelings of impatience and worth and relying on other people and fear what’s going to happen if there’s no one there, and what’s going to happen if I have to ask them to help….I have some extra issues here, I know. That’s what I wanted to talk about today.

Needing others and being ok with it. Being reliant on other humans to show you love and being humble and able to receive love. I thought for the longest time that it was a pride issue…after my divorce, I was bound and determined to show everyone I could do it by myself. I got myself in to this mess and was alone because I made a bad choice, so now I don’t need any of you to fix it or help. I didn’t want to burden anyone anymore or be the black sheep who was always screwing up and needing extra help because of my own bad choices…PRIDE. I also thought it was this screwed up independent spirit that had found me in high school. I liked being independent. There wasn’t anything wrong with liking to learn and do things on my own, but I let the enemy of my soul take it to the extreme. I have 2 older brothers. Part of me was just going to be independent. I loved doing things myself. I loved being capable. I’m tough. I’m hardcore for a girl, sometimes (I deadlift a mean ol’ big #). I liked doing what my brothers did. I rode my horse around the ukarumpa base in PNG by myself at age 11, over the mountains, around town. I was strong, wiry, quiet, but determined. But when that thing hit in high school, I decided I didn’t need anybody. I hated drama and the girls I was friends with had drama. The guys just wanted the wrong things. So I decided I didn’t need anybody. I could do it on my own. Coming back from PNG, I had an attitude towards most people here anyway and never felt like I didn’t fit with anyone, so “like me if you want, but I don’t really give a *&^* if you don’t” kind of became my attitude. ISOLATION. (Did you know that’s a major ploy, tactic, plan of the enemy? It’s such old news, I should have known, but didn’t and he (that stupid little craphead did).

Then it turned in to rebellion. Which is actually one of the most obvious forms of “following” and being needy that there is. I didn’t see it that way though. I saw it like I was going my own way, but really I wasn’t. I didn’t want to be disliked, I didn’t want the pressure of fitting in to what the good kids did though either and I was upset that I didn’t know where I belonged…I ended up following the easiest crowd, the rebellious crowd. They accepted anybody. Fast forward to 1 husband down, 2 kids up and I was alone and going to prove it to everyone that I could do it, right? And actually, that was it for a long time. That was actually why I hated asking for help and hated showing need. I became more and more independent, pushing people away, not showing weakness. I was pretty good at it, guys. I didn’t let people in, had no social skills really, and no friends. Ha! I won! I basically held it together for my boys (sorta, but not really). I never wanted to show weakenss because they needed me to be strong. That added a whole, really thick level of independence to the mix. My boys were being played and manipulated by their dad…he didn’t treat them right. He used them to make himself feel better. They needed me to be strong. They needed me to cry on. And if it killed me, I was going to BE strong for them. I went for so long this way, never really recognizing how depleated of everything I was. Every now and then, something would happen (usually the Lord touching my heart) and I would weep, uncontrollably, and violently, usually when my boys were with their dad on his weekend and I knew no one would possibly see me. I would curl up in the closet, not able to breath by the end of it and fall asleep eventually from exhaustion from crying. Did you know how good a really hard cry is for your core? I’m gonna make that up…the “good, hard weep core workout.” Seriously 6-pack ab inducing, but of course, I didn’t do enough to have good abs.  I wasn’t THAT weak.  Geez…

I’ve been dealing with all this though over the years. 13 years and couting since I married Daryl, who’s been such an intregal part of my healing along with the Lord. I’ve been working on it. Daryl has the gift of “helps”….HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! How ironic is the Lord?! That’s not a sense of humor like a lot of people say about stuff like that. That’s an intentional act of God to perfect me in to the image of Himself. I know that’s super serious and sobering, but it’s the truth. It’s not funny. He did that on purpose and it’s tortured me for years…and Daryl too, and I can only imagine how painful it’s been for the Lord to watch. Imagine, a man who was created to help and is fulfilled and uplifted and feels value and love when he can help marries a woman who won’t let him help her. Poor guy. So, he goes off to help other people to meet that need and use his gift, which in turn makes his wife mad and feel unloved because he wants to help everyone else but her. Oh dear Lord, it’s all so clear now.

So, I knew all that till this past week…what I realized this past week before this surgery and knowing I’d need all sorts of help, was that I felt like a VICTIM every time I needed help. Have you ever been a victim of something? Even a small thing? It’s one of the worst feelings ever. It’s enough to cripple you. It’s enough to cause all of these things inside you that you never even knew were there to “fire” and “rise up” and “engage.” Actually, God made us that way. Did you know that? He gave us this self preservation mode that our brains actually click in to when we’re dying or suffering or in a situation that can’t be changed so that we can physically keep going and not just keel over and die or have a mental breakdown and fall apart. So, for some things, it’s great…it’s just when we don’t come out of that that it becomes a problem. That’s what I’ve done. I never wanted to be a victim again or let my children see me as a victim again that I put up these huge, strong, THICK as concrete walls around my heart and mind to NEVER. FEEL. THAT. WAY. AGAIN. Being a victim is probably one of the weakest places a person can be. And being a victim of sexual abuse is probably the one that’s going to pierce a hole in your heart big enough, tender enough, wide enough to have the energy to build some huge a** dang walls to never feel that way again. And remember how strong I was and capable? Ya, my walls are big, huge.

I did that. And 14 years later, I’m finally dealing with those walls. The Lord said, let’s use this carpal tunnel surgery (??? ;)) to deal with that victim spirit that you’ve never dealt with. Maybe it’s because I’m finally secure enough in His love for me that I can actually admit that I felt like a victim, maybe it’s because I’ve finally decided to believe that my husband of 13 years actually loves me even though I’m not perfect, maybe it’s because He’s a gentle, merciful, tender God who never goes to places we aren’t ready for and He knows me better than I know myself, and loves me still…even though I can’t do it all. I can’t actually lift 50 lbs with my left hand after carpal tunnel surgery or even make dinner after carpel tunnel surgery and it’s ok. I can’t even do the dishes (very easily) because of the incision I have to keep clean and dry. Maybe it’s because I finally believe how much my Father in Heaven loves me and He wants me to be whole even more than I do. Maybe it’s because His love is so much greater than I could have ever imagined and I’m finally able to receive it even though I was a victim, once (but not anymore). Maybe I finally can see that He wasn’t happy about me being a victim and I can still believe that He loved me even though He actually allowed me to BE a victim (He does allow us to have hard things, but that doesn’t mean He doesn’t love us–it’s true!). I don’t know. I’m not God. But I’m happy He’s still perfecting me. I’m happy He hasn’t given up on me. I’m happy He who began a good work in me is FAITHFUL to complete it, even in me. I love Him for it. And I even strangley love this place of vulnerability and weakness…probably because when I’m weak, He is strong. Thank You, Jesus.

Amen.