Crushed in spirit

Writing for this blog tends to fall in the long list of things waiting for me to have free time in order to complete them. In this current stage of my life, free time is a scarce commodity. Today is Sunday and the final day of the university's and my son's school fall break. Since we had a four day weekend, I have had time to catch up on this month's long list of "to-dos." The past month has been difficult. On the Tuesday after Labor Day, my mother-in-law was killed in a car accident just a few miles from her home. 

Frankly, even though I have experienced the sucker punch of loss before, I tend to forget the toll grief takes on one's body. Because the wound is not external, sometimes we push through the days and neglect tending to the pain. We are inclined to overlook the healing process. I may suppose I am functioning at my best, but often that is not the case and I fail to recognize it.

Psalm 34 is one of my favorite books of the Bible. Not only does it contain my life verse but it contains so many verses that speak into the hard times in life, such as verse 18, "The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit." 

My mother-in-law and I had countless conversations about faith in the face of death, loss, and grief. I remember talking to her within days after 9/11 when I was 7 months pregnant with our first child. I was mulling over the future of bringing a baby into a world with such turmoil. She walked by faith and had an anointing to listen and give wise, godly counsel. I do not recall her exact words but I remember she said that God's word was her comfort and guidance. Furthermore, she mentioned the song, "Because He Lives" by Bill Gaither. As she lived a life of worship and was a wonderful musician and songstress, this suggestion was an organic one. The song remains my go-to when circumstances are bewildering or overwhelming.

Parenting has challenges which are difficult to explain and hard to prepare for. This weekend in my time with my youngest, I experienced obstacles which thankfully led to small victories. I am thankful for answered prayers and for prayer warriors who faithfully lift my sons and I up in prayer.

My teenage son has been invited to join the National Honor Society. Given a choice, he would not take on any challenges. He fears pain and defeat. After a few tense hours of debate and struggle, we experienced the grace of God and my son completed the required essay for his NHS application. I had initiated the process by asking him questions about what brings him joy, in what occasions has he had experiences to demonstrate leadership, how have others been blessed by his actions, and what would his grandmother say she is proud of him for.

The hard bouts of parenting take me to the depths of discouragement. The nadir, in its shadows, invites me to give up. As I am tempted to acquiesce and allow the darkness to envelop me, it is not the end as it might appear. It is the bedrock and where I recognize God. When hope seems to be fading, when the sting of isolation brings despair, and darkness is moments from fully consuming me, that is where I find God. Not that He is waiting there for me, but that He has been with me all along. Just as He promises to be.

currently listening to:
silence

currently reading: 
1 Kings
The sea of monsters
coursework

today grateful for:  
my youngest son and his giftings
my oldest son  and his talents
my mother-in-law
my brother
extended family
God's faithfulness
His word 
paid time off
faithful prayer warriors
clean water
cool fall weather

Sunshine and dust

Last December as part of a book club, I read The Power of Agency by Dr. Paul Napper and Dr. Anthony Rao. Little did I know then, that the coming year would be one with very little time for agency.

“Agency is what allows you to pause, evaluate, and act when you face a challenge—be it at work, home, or anywhere else in the world” (Napper, 2019)

This year with increased work from my job, a new volunteer position, and having lost my house helper and carpool assistant, Tim, to college life, I have very minimal "agency" time. These days I struggle with distraction during my morning quiet times. 

In the years immediately following Andy's death, I clung to God as a small, terrified child who holds a death grip on his mother's leg for security. Those morning quiet times were never long enough. God spoke to me in those mornings and through His Word.  I was closer to God then, than any time previously. 

This week I had a reprieve with the Thanksgiving holiday. The university, school, and volunteer organizations were closed for Thursday, Friday, and the adjacent weekend. It takes me at least two days of any time off, to wind down and get past the chores and responsibilities to a place of mental retreat. 

This Sunday as I sat at the kitchen table searching scripture, sunshine flooded in through the window. I was occupied, desperately seeking God's face as I am certain He is preparing me for a yet to be revealed time or task. The sunlight illuminated the dust and dirt covering my table, chairs and floor. 

Didn't I just clean and mop this after dinner last night? Out of that distraction came insight.

God's Word is the light shining into my heart and mind, illuminating every speck, including what is not from Him. Proper introspection can come only from staying in daily touch with God--asking Him to show me and teach me.

currently listening to:
bread machine

currently reading: 
Genesis
The Cost of Discipleship
The Lazy Genius Way
The ministry of ordinary places
Stylish Academic Writing
1984

today grateful for:  
time with my boys
God's faithfulness
His word 
paid time off
modern technology and online church services
clean water 
sunshine

No two years are alike

My dad had a saying, "If you use a new word three times, it is yours." On weekdays while I prioritize my calendar, I listen to the Merriam Webster's word of the day podcast. Enjoying words reminds me of Andy. I would kid him as, my LOV, lord of the vocabulary. 

I look forward to Merriam Webster's announcement of the word of the year for 2020. The Oxford dictionary folks have capitulated to a crowded list of "words of the year" including "unprecedented." None of their choices are superlative. Their lack of definitive choice is appropriate as tepidness sums up 2020.

Just as we are often reminded that no two children are alike, this year has been a vivid reminder that each year has different events, sadness, and joy.

Despite tepidness, this year does not feel as gray as the previous eleven since Andy's death. This came to mind when I reposted a Facebook article on grief in the holiday season. I did not have my own season in mind, but I was thinking of the mother who is marking the first year anniversary of her child's passing and the relatives who are facing the first holiday season without a brother and mother. Perhaps this year is exceptional because it feels as if the earth has been knocked out of its ordered rotation. Nevertheless, I am grateful that God in His sovereignty and grace has given us a chance to scrutinize our routines, precepts, priorities, and beliefs.

This year differs from others for me as....a year with my adult child, who transitioned into the college world....a year of stepping into the expanded role of professor....a year with an amplified amount of domestic, voluntary, and occupational responsibilities...a year without vacation... a year with numerous opportunities to reflect and analyze assumptions, customs and rituals.

Here's to hoping that this year is remembered as one of introspection, both collectively and individually. 

"Whoever conceals his transgressions will not prosper, but he who confesses and forsakes them will obtain mercy. Blessed is the one who fears the Lord always, but whoever hardens his heart will fall into calamity."   Proverbs 28:13-14 ESV

currently listening to:
dripping faucet

currently reading: 
Genesis
The Cost of Discipleship
The Lazy Genius Way
The ministry of ordinary places
Stylish Academic Writing
1984

today grateful for:  
my boys
BSF
faith
His word 
God's plan
paid time off
modern technology for communication
cool weather 
clean water 
electricity

Gray Christmas

For me the color for the season of Christmas is gray.

On that first Christmas eleven years ago without Andy, it was a fog. I do not remember much from that year. I have pictures of what we did and who was there, but most of it remains a blur. I only remember that the kennel where our dog was boarded, called at 8:30 am on Christmas morning to tell me I had to come get Franklin because he had chewed his way out of his metal pen. We were five hours away in North Carolina. I had to call for a favor from friends.

The next Christmas of 2009 was horrible. After Christmas morning at our own house, when I was finally able to pull myself out of bed past 9 am. It had snowed the day before and our cars were parked on the street at the top of the long hill of our driveway. I had not packed the car for our trip. I slogged along with that gray cloud enveloping me, in order to carry each item up the hill to the car. On the first trip up to the car, I discovered two slashed tires on my late husband's car--long story short-- I believe my next door neighbor's teenage son did it.

After the horrible Christmas of 2009, I tried to figure out how to get myself out of these December funks. After all, my boys were ages 2 and 7 when their dad died. they were young and deserved to experience joy in these holidays. My solution was to ask my doctor for a pharmaceutical answer.

Now, over a decade later, I can function but the gray lingers. Now I have habits for coping. I have built in traditions upon which I rely. For Thanksgiving, we stay home and always watch the Macy's parade while playing Monopoly.  For Christmas cards, I attempt to get them out early, otherwise it is a lost cause. I complete all of my shopping for gifts before December to lessen the pain of this chore. We have very few decorations - advent candles and my collection of creches.

Each year I find that I try to ramp up my joy superficially. When we begin to hear Christmas music, I try to sing out loud with vim and vigor. However, after a day or two, I cannot do it anymore and I rely on streaming for praise music to avoid the Christian stations which have all resorted to a month of holiday music.

Each year I try to change this month of grayness. Try to "pull myself up by my own bootstraps." I feel like it is just me and I should be able to shake this. That the joy of the Lord is enough and I should not feel this way. This morning, I read a post by a Christian author, young widow, mother, newly remarried - and a light bulb went off.

[from Tricia Lott Willford]       If Christmas Makes You Sad

I’m going along, minding my own business, creating this new and beautiful life just the way I want it to be, and suddenly it’s December.

There we are, singing Christmas songs in the car, and suddenly I need to change the station. There are holiday scents in the air, some variety of cinnamon, and suddenly I feel like I need to leave the room. We are singing together at choir rehearsal, and suddenly I’m crying and crying and crying. We are watching the last two minutes of the last episode of This Is Us, and suddenly I’m tied in the knots of a wordless, seizing panic attack.

It all happened so suddenly.

Which made me mad, because I don’t want to be undone over Christmas anymore. I want only happiness now. It’s a new season. God has done great things, given me everything I asked for, restored my joy and turned my mourning into dancing. I’m happy now. And I want to be happy at Christmas too. But there I was, in an emotional setback that I didn’t want, an emotional setback that Peter didn’t know what to do with.

It seems that I skipped the sadness last year. I was pretty hopped up on limerence, as you might recall. Last year’s brand new love was drug that carried me over the moon, and it kept me, quite frankly, distracted from the December cloud of the last five years.

So when it showed up this year, when I felt the anxiety mounting and the darkness looming, I didn’t know what to do.

I feel crazy in love with Peter, but why was last December easy and this one is hard? I mean, nobody can maintain that kind of craziness that comes with the weeks of falling in love. It’s not sustainable. It’s replaced with the comfortable space of knowing and being, which is wonderful and comfortable… and a safe place for grief to return.

Sometimes I don’t want this story to be my story anymore.

The return of December has put me back in Jana’s office. This time, Peter came too, since this isn’t jut mine anymore. Actually, marriage means none of this is a ‘His or Hers’ kind of thing anymore. For better or for worse, this is Ours.

We’re learning a whole lot over here. Just in case you love somebody who is triggered by things you can’t understand, we’ve decided to share our list with you.

Emotional Memory is different from Logical Memory. There are things you choose to remember because it’s a logical connection. Like when you see someone wearing a blue shirt, and it reminds you of your roommate’s blue shirt that you borrowed for that one date … and you intentionally follow a rabbit trail to that memory. That’s a logical memory. But emotional memory is different. You might see the blue shirt, have no logical memory of the blue shirt, and somehow you just feel sad. It may be perhaps because a paramedic’s uniform was that color of blue, and it’s a peripheral memory that only registers as sadness. Emotional memory is hard to trace; it’s involuntary and it only produces… well, emotion.

Emotional Memory is the Result of Senses. The scent of a candle. A song on the radio. Christmas lights on the drive home. They trigger emotions.

All of this is not Surprising. December is filled with scents, smells, sounds, and songs. And so of course this is happening. I cannot will it away. These are deep neurological paths that I’m trying to fight, and that is no small thing.

All of this is also Unpredictable. Sure, it would make sense for me to slip into a spiral closer to December 22, December 23… but the first day of December? Where did that come from, three weeks early? Triggers are unpredictable, and they are in charge.

I didn’t ask for these Triggers. I’d prefer to not have them at all, thanks.

Trauma isn’t Longing. These episodes that send me spinning are about Trauma. That is all. These episodes are not about indulging in a memory, and they are not about my longing for a different life or an earlier husband.  I don’t wish for anything to be different about this beautiful life of mine; this cannot be overstated.

Trauma isn’t logical. So you can’t explain a traumatized person out of it. In case you’re thinking, “But you had thirty good Christmases before that one bad one… can’t you just think about a different one?” Well, all I can say is, no. I can’t. It doesn’t work that way.

Some things can’t be fixed; they can only be carried. As Peter said, “I don’t have to fix it. I only have to be available to my wife.”

My Emotions Don’t Have to Rule the Day.  Peter said, “Honey, I love you and I am in this with you.  But with all due respect to your story and what you’ve been through, Christmas isn’t sad for me.  And I won’t give up my happiness this season.”  It’s possible to read that and hear insensitivity; but the truth is, this is a very healthy response that is every opposite of codependent.  Plus, there’s so much comfort in knowing I can feel how I feel without ruining Christmas.  Peter is holding on to his joy, and I love him so much for the consistency he brings and the light that he shines in this shadow.

I asked Peter what he would say to a fellow person in the support role.  He said, “I would tell them to remember this isn’t about them.  It’s an opportunity to not be selfish.  This season gives me a chance to love somebody more than I love myself.  So, if you’re married to somebody who’s struggling, then get over what you wish this looked like, and support this person who wishes it looked differently, too.”

In case you love somebody who has triggers of PTSD, in case you’re in love with somebody whose emotionally undone for reasons that are deeper than logic and longer than a season:

Please buckle up, stay close, and love us anyway.

currently listening to:
rain

currently reading: 
Cook Once Eat All Week
Acts
The Good Neighbor: The Life and Work of Fred Rogers

today grateful for:  
my boys 
BSF
faith
His word 
God's plan 
cool weather 
clean water 
electricity

Twenty years (ten years since the last)

It is an odd feeling to think that today would have been our 20th wedding anniversary.

We made it to ten years and I am so thankful that Andy insisted we celebrate our 10th anniversary with time alone -a trip for just the two of us.  (I am thankful he blogged about our trip and our tenth.) We celebrated it in the most "extravagant" way we could afford. We went to Atlantic Beach for a weekend. I value the memories of that time together. It really does not matter how a couple celebrates, as long as they treasure each other and being together.

I remember a few months after Andy died, a couple with whom we were friends, found out the husband had to transfer to Georgia for his job. She stayed here with their children so that they could finish out the school year. She did not want to move several states away and she voiced the possibility of her staying in Virginia and visiting him a few times a month. I told her, I would rather live in a cardboard box and be with my husband than have anything else.

I was reminded Sunday of the preciousness of time and memories as one of the sweet kids in my church class, handed me a book to read. It was a book I had not encountered before, Let Me Hold You a Longer, by Karen Kingsbury. (Warning, do not read it without tissues.) It is a reminder that you never quite know which memory might be a last. Treasure and savour each one as if it might be a last.

dinner:
Chick-fil-a

currently listening to:
news

currently reading: 
booked
revelation
decluttering at the speed of life


today grateful for:  
my boys 
ten years of memories
andy's writings 
faith
God's peace 
His word 
God's plan

God is bigger

I know I have not blogged in months, 11 months to be exact. I enjoy reading previous blog posts as a memory book of sorts to look back on events in our family and reflecting upon what God had done for us.

This morning I was reading the facebook post of a friend who is overcoming breast cancer and I also was reading a blog written by another mom. Both reminded me of what God showed me years ago. It was probably just a year or two after Andy's death when God showed me that although he can move mountains, if I keep my eyes on Him, the mountain does not have to be moved. God is bigger than any mountain, trial or obstacle. As the blogger, Kristen, wrote:

"Because it's a lot easier to see the top of one mountain from another. When we reflect on what God has already done in our lives, our hearts, our homes and we stop and praise Him for it - it changes everything." 

We live at the foot of the Appalachian mountains, and although I like visiting the beach, the mountains are my home. I do not think any of us live on the beach, at sea level for our entire lives. Therefore, we will always have mountains to climb, trials to endure, and hardships to overcome.  Jesus promises:

"In the world you will have tribulation; but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world." John 16:33

I relish that during the Feast of Dedication, the same season we are currently in, Jesus in the temple walked and taught:

"My Father who has given them (my sheep) to Me, is greater than all; and no one is able to snatch them out of My Father's hand."   John 10:29

We need to remind ourselves of this daily. Also, we need to come alongside each other in the midst of trials to pray for each other and remind each other "how big our God is."

breakfast:
toast

currently listening to:

an electric heater

 
currently reading: 
john
the broken way
in the land of the blue burqas

today grateful for: 
the season of Advent

the Feast of Dedication

my boys 

God's Word

God's patience and faithfulness

electricity

fellow believers

mundane thing & thankfulness

today, i have used this utensil at least 4 times.  i wash it and reuse it daily.  each time i use it, i think of my brother and sister-in-law.

they have a tradition each year for Christmas of giving me a collection of their favorite things.  this spatula was a favorite thing a year or so ago.  i am blessed, because each time i use it i give thanks for my brother and his wife.  my brother and i both found and married our spouses late in life...in our thirties.  my sister-in-law is an answer to many years of prayer.  prayers i prayed for my brother for his heart, mind and soul.

i am thankful and blessed that my sister-in-law is a follower of Christ, has a heart for missions, loves and takes care of my brother.

i am thankful that as a couple they love Christ, have hearts for others, are prayer warriors and devoted disciples.

lately several folks i know have shared their brokenheartedness and memories of the loss of ones they hold dear...a child, a spouse, a sibling.   please take no moment, no day, no opportunities for granted.  hug them, enjoy their voices, tell them what they mean to you.

R & E, I love you and give thanks for you both!!!!

currently listening to:
local newscast

dinner: 
pizza (kids)

chef salad (me)

currently reading:
when God doesn't fix it
the more of less
psalms
colossians
today grateful for:
my boys
answered prayers
God's patience and love for me
electricity, clean water, safety, good health
fellowship with believers

given so much

Today I am reminded that I have been given so much. I am home with youngest as he heals from another bout of strep throat.

I am mindful of those who do without...

gifts....	considering....
paid sick leave days	parents/single moms who lose pay when they have to stay home with a sick child
health insurance and a job	parents without health insurance for their children or places where full payment is required before any care is given
available medical care esp. after work hours	those without after hours medical care
reliable medical care	those without available medical care
a comfy waiting room	those who wait for hours in long lines outside in sun, rain, etc
easily accessible medicines	those without access to antibiotics, antiinflammatories or other medicines (which we consider commonplace)
a drugstore open late within a few miles of my house	those who cannot get the basic drugs to help their children
a working automobile	those who are dependent upon public transportation to get somewhere before a business closes or those who must carry or walk with a sick child to get help
a climate controlled house	those who do not have a roof or have substandard housing so the sick child is subject to elements of nature
safety	those who may worry about basic safety while caring for a sick child
abundant resources	those who have to make a choice between basic needs and medical care
	those who struggle to have enough money to make a copay or pay for meds their children need
leisure resources to entertain a sick child	those who are sick and have no pleasant diversions
children	those who have lost a child or are barren
hope	those without hope

currently listening to:
hallelujah by casting crowns

dinner:
soup

currently reading:
under the same sky
i am n
thessalonians
today grateful for:
my boys
provision
modern medicine
a working automobile
a job
a house
hope and joy
electricity
clean water
God

seriously? suriously!?!

some friends and i  were reflecting today upon how texting and facebook messaging are not the most effectively forms of communication, especially if you are not a longtime, face-to-face friend of the person.  written communication lacks tone of voice and nonverbal expressions.

when reacting in person to bewildering actions and comments, I find THE opportunity to stare silently in disbelief for an extended time can be invaluable.

the stare sometimes works for the following…

…someone who left the restroom without washing her hands

…adults who do not read instructions

…persistent laziness

…habitual tardiness

sometimes i feel so strongly that i often do not hold back.

1.       using adjectives incorrectly (this irks me and is bad in my book, but not life changing)

2.       misquoting or misusing scripture to fit a situation (what were they thinking? time for a fact check)

with these two if it is someone on tv or the radio, ---i correct them aloud---my boys often remind me, “mom, they cannot hear you.”

3.       trying to comfort someone who is grieving by telling them “God needed an angel.”    SERIOUSLY![eye roll, head tilt]

i saw this as a comment on a friend’s facebook post in reaction to her post about the death of close friend.

such are times when it is be better not to say anything beyond, “i’m sorry.” or “i love you.”

shortly after Andy’s death, I remember a phone conversation with someone who I considered to be a good friend. I called to tell this person that Andy had died and her first response was, “I know how you feel, our dog just died.”

in many instances our society does not know how to deal with pain, grief, suffering, and silence.   as my Daddy would say, “think before you speak.”  i am guilty of breaking this rule.

clichés are best left unsaid.  pain and suffering are hard. WE cannot fix some things.

silence is okay, because love and your presence are enough.

Dinner
cod with creamy pesto sauce and tomatoes

Reading
dimestore by lee smith

a grace disguised

psalms

revelation 4

grateful for

God’s presence and teaching

single mom friends

unexpected gifts

time with my boys

sunshine and cool temps

                                                ps. please excuse mistakes---typed with thumbs via cell phone

day by day

i have not blogged in months because my computer died several months ago. there have been so many times I wanted to sit down and type an entry. it has not helped that my thoughts have been quite disjointed lately. as it is now I am typing this post on my phone.  I am definitely old school as I prefer to type with both hands instead of just two thumbs. (ps- please forgive typos and the fiendish auto-correct)

tonight is one of those evenings when as a single mom I'm just emotionally worn out. both of my boys went to bed complaining about superficial things and fussing at me.

today started out on an emotional note as my oldest son who is in middle school what is lamenting the annual father-son chapel at his school. I do not know how to approach this dilemma. I try to teach my boys that everything is an opportunity-- an opportunity to glorify God,  an opportunity to help other people, an opportunity to learn something new...opportunity to be grateful. I do not know how to tell my teenage boy who has lived half his life without his father how to find the opportunity in a school program geared just towards fathers and sons.

my solution is to pray and hug them. everything has a season.  lately I have been profoundly aware of how each person has her own pain. in the past month my prayers have been consumed with thoughts and intercessions for half a dozen new widows and a mother who lost her son to suicide.

"The edges of God are tragedy. The depths of God are joy, beauty, resurrection, life." -Marjorie Hewitt Suchocki

dinner:
BLTs

listening to:
spin cycle on the washer
hymns

reading:
radical
a grace disguised
ecclesiastes

grateful for:
God's presence, nudging and guidance
hope
friends who make me laugh out loud
fellowship with believers
good health
sight
amenities such as water, electricity, a good house
a working automobile

the pain of our lives

today i came across a fascinating video which illustrates and explains the flow of the book of psalms. i have learned an abundance of things from the psalms. God showed me his grace, mercy, forgiveness and comfort in psalm 34.

after andy's death, when i was afraid my faith would be shaken if i asked "why," psalms showed me how david pressed into the Lord with questions of "why?"  as this video states, the psalms illustrate how "not to ignore pain in our lives" and how faith is forward looking.  as i once heard, "do not waste your trials."  everything is an opportunity.

faith gives us hope and hope looks forward.


dinner:
sauteed chicken and apple 
homebaked bread
sweet potatoes

currently reading:
isaiah 1
don't waste your life by john piper
the mysterious benedict society

grateful for:
happy boys
good health
an unencumbered schedule for a saturday
cooler temps
electricity
clean water
safety
the United States
God's wisdom and patience
His word

amazing

the past several weeks have been amazing.. my god has held me in his tender hand and brought me to my knees with His amazing miracles.  my words are meager to express the goodness of God.

i would not trade a minute of my last week. God's faithfulness to prepare me for every step is awesome. i struggle to put into words how amazing He is. years ago He gave me a desire for His mission. i am blessed to be in my mission field as my career. i have not always been thankful though. i have had days, weeks, and months where i have wondered why the hardship.

months ago He gave me an increased desire for His missions. when the opportunity presented itself for me to take a short term mission trip to mexico, i jumped. i did not ask why or how, i just knew it was to be. i am thankful for my family and friends whose help has provided me the opportunity to follow this desire.

five days ago at work while i was pursuing a student who i thought was fleeing out of the building, and i heard a pop and i fell face first onto the floor. an ambulance took me from school to the emergency room. i am thankful for this mishap and the opportunities to connect to others and taste the goodness of my Lord.

 i am thankful for--
--my God who is not surprised by circumstances,
--my school nurse who tended to me and kept me from passing out and then came to the emergency room and prayed for me
--the dear ambulance workers/EMTs
--my custodian who was at the emergency room when i arrived and stayed with me and prayed for me
--the teacher who stayed with me in the ER, prayed for me, drove me home, got my prescriptions filled, brought my car to my house,
--the friend who i knew i could call to pick up my children and care for them like her own,
--my coworkers who stepped in without hesitation to help
---my parent volunteers who were my shining stars
--my coworkers who are bold in stopping to hold my hand and pray
--God's faithfulness and provision
--for God's reminder to abandon my cynicism and recognize my enemy is Satan not those Satan uses and those Satan prompts me to hate
--opportunities to stop and see the hand of God
--my best friend who encourages me and shares my love for our Saviour,
--my life group
--my friends and family whose prayers covered me before anyone knew of my accident,


God deserves all the glory. we walk daily in the VICTORY He prepared, planned and gave us. this week i was reminded that ALL people are made in His image. satan is the enemy not people.

dinner:
pizza

currently reading:
let hope in by pete wilson

fervent by priscilla shirer

gideon by priscilla shirer

being the body by chuch colson

the mysterious benedict society by trenton lee stewart

today grateful for:

God's faithfulness

my boys

laughter and silliness

healing

the WORD

my coworkers

my friends

my church

clean water and electricity

freedom to worship

bold Christians

prayer

midnight manifesto

it's midnight and I've only slept for a bit.  now I'm wide awake and wondering why that is so.  several times before, I'm fairly sure God has nudged me out of bed to pray.  as I was checking my email and Facebook feed, I know why I was awakened tonight.  at the top of my feed was a post with a late night request from a friend to stop and immediately pray.  I believe that was my late night burden.

next, the email at the top of my list was from our childrens' minister.  in it was a link to a powerful blog post about a Christian parent's manifesto.[http://wearethatfamily.com/2015/07/the-christian-parent-manifesto/]    my next (but not newest) burden....pray for my children.
this author nailed it and spoke to the central burden of my heart.  I am so thankful for her words.  this blog post reminded me of how I felt in late 2001 after my first child was born and I wondered about the evil world we were bringing a child into.  my mother-in-law reminded us of the words in the song, "because He lives."

now that song is one I sing, often to myself, sometimes late at night, to remind me of my God's promises and power!  so tonight I sing that song, pray scriptural promises over my boys and reread the manifesto.

The Christian Parent Manifesto

"This world is not our final home.

Because of this, we won’t always fit in, and actually, we should strive not to conform to the world.

The Bible is our standard for holiness and guides our everyday living.

Truth may shift in our culture, but we look to God’s Word as our standard.

There will be people who choose to live differently than we do. This doesn’t affect, change or alter how we treat them.

We love people no matter what.

There are scary things in this world, but we can hold fast to the peace of God.

His peace comforts us when we don’t understand things around us.

God is in control and He sees all and knows all.

One day, He will return for us.

This is our blessed hope.

Until that day, we will stand for what we believe is right.

We will serve others who cannot serve themselves.

We will speak up for those who have been muffled by oppression and poverty.

We will give more than we take.

We will love others because He first loved us.

We will follow Jesus wherever He leads." 

birthday blessings

today was my birthday and my sons surprised and treated me to several surprises.  when i returned home this morning from my saturday farmers' market shopping trip, i opened the front door to a beautiful chorus of "happy birthday." 

the table was set for breakfast and with specially folded napkins, a beautifully wrapped gift, and a spread of handmade cards. (one featuring "bacon man!")

my oldest wrote the verse jeremiah 1:5 on the chalkboard.  this alone made my heart sing.    it is a gift beyond words.

what can i say?  my boys have their dad's gift of intuition and insight.  it was a morning of pure joy for me.  my youngest made a list so as not to forget any details.   my oldest prepared an incredible, homemade breakfast for us...


fruit salad with strawberries, wine berries and bananas, the most delicious cheese omelet i have ever tasted, 
and croissants.

we sat and ate and giggled.   joy!














my oldest thought ahead and while he was at boy scout camp in june, he made me a sign for my library complete with the school mascot.

today was one of the best days.  one i will treasure.

dinner:

gourmet pizza and cheesecake (dining out)

listening to:

third day

currently reading:
when helping hurts

1 timothy

today grateful for:

my boys

another year

andy

God's word

laughter and joy

in the good ol' summertime

as a school teacher, i relish summer vacation.

summer vacation for me means:
less stress,
less hectic schedules,
no homework for kids,
more fun time with my boys.
more daylight,
friends,
family,
more time to sleep,
more time to reflect,
creativity,
days without makeup,
pool days,
time to read for leisure,
wildflowers,
gardens,
travel,
fresh veggies,
time to cook,
twilight on the porch,
fireflies,
and simple joy.

today, i slept in--for me that means any amount of time past 6 am.  then i trekked out for a long walk. and returned to read for a bit then fix lunch with yummy farm produce and farm eggs while i watched taped episodes of the barefoot contessa.  i have no definite plans for the rest of today...ahhhhh.

lunch:

fried eggs with veggie confetti (me)
wine berries & strawberries

nachos with pico-de-gallo (kids)

currently reading:
defying isis

2 timothy 4

the secret thoughts of an unlikely convert

number the stars

escape from lemoncello's library

today grateful for:

cool temps

good health

God's truth

God's presence

God's provision

clean water and electricity

summertime

fresh, local, organic food