So here's the thing, sweet friends.
We need to talk about the blog.
I've had this little spot on the web for almost eight years. Seven of those years I've been single and childless and living in my cute bachelorette pad of an apartment. Now I'm married, a home owner, and the mama of two little ones (one in Heaven and one growing beneath my heart).
Even though to me it's been a lovely, smooth transition, the reality is that my life has drastically changed. And I feel like I don't know how to blog anymore. Can I share something with you? Especially you longtime readers...
I'm afraid you're going to think I've turned into a mommy-blogger.
I'm not. But yet I am.
Stay with me. (both in this post and for good-- ha!)
For years I've shared with you my heartaches, my joys, my reflections as a single woman learning to trust God on the journey. The reality is that I'm still that same woman, still learning to trust God on this new journey. My path looks a little different, but my heart looks a lot the same.
In some ways, my heart will continue to relate most deeply to single women or women struggling with infertility. Honestly, sometimes I feel more comfortable in those circles than in circles of married mamas who haven't had those struggles. To the average reader walking in, I'm a woman with a husband, a home, and a baby on the way. But how do I let them know my heart remembers...my heart remembers the nights after breakups and my broken engagement, the confusion with God's plan and wondering if I was even on the right path. My heart remembers the years of diagnoses and the treatments for a body that won't work right. My heart remembers the tears and overwhelming grief from losing our first little one. My heart still struggles with fear at times that we'll lose this one, too.
So there it is. This tension and struggle of how to embrace and share this new season of life with you while remaining relevant and real to my past readers. The desire to say, I'm still me, while also rejoicing in the new beauty of marriage and homemaking and pregnancy.
In the end, at our very core we are simply women. Whether old or young, married or single, physical mother or spiritual mother, we share the same joys and struggles. We all know hope, disappointment, loneliness, love, joy, longing, and fear.
So stay with me, old readers? Get to know me, new readers? We're all in this together, this crazy adventure called life.
And no matter what season we find ourselves in today, if we have the eyes to see it and the heart open to God's grace, we will find that life is beautiful.
Showing posts with label waiting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label waiting. Show all posts
Saturday, February 13, 2016
Friday, September 18, 2015
7 Quick Takes Friday: I'm back and I think it's for real this time
--1--
I have Fridays off now and it makes me ridiculously happy. And it gives me a lot more time and energy to write. So. This time I'm making a solemn vow an honest effort to get back on the blogging bandwagon. Because when I looked at my last post and realized it was posted on July 30, I promptly fainted couldn't believe it!
In addition to writing and sharing more, I'm planning on bringing back Wisdom for Wednesdays, my weekly sharing of quotes, thoughts, and Bible verses with you. Stay tuned!
--2--
The job. Remember when I shared about a possible job opportunity? It happened! I'm not back in crisis pregnancy center work and I couldn't be happier!
Back in the summertime, I was extremely stressed with my current job, mourning our miscarried child, exhausted from my daily commute to my old town for my old job. One night I was crying/venting/desperately begging P. to fix everything. In his calm way, he asked what my dream job would be right now.
Working part-time at a crisis pregnancy center, I answered through my tears.
The next day, I went to a previously scheduled meeting with a center to discuss volunteering. By the end of the meeting, there was a job possibility arising.
Two months later-- and a LOT of prayer and discernment (because of my control freak cautious self in decision making)-- I'm now a nurse and sonographer for them.
And I couldn't be happier or more grateful that my passion is now my job.
--3--
The fertility stuff. In addition to grieving our little Ignatius, our follows up with my doctor shed more light on the situation. It's one of those things. When you find out abnormal results, are you glad because now you have an answer or sad because they're abnormal? Honestly, it depends on the day for me.
In addition to PCOS (which I knew I had), I have low progesterone and a clotting disorder, both of which put me at high risk for miscarriages. That's the sad news. And let me tell you, it brings on a new grief, a grieving over a body that doesn't work right, that puts me at risk to lose more babies.
But there's always hope. And I'm deeply grateful for my NaPro doctor. He's compassionate, faith-filled, and a highly competent physician. My treatment is minimal and hope-full.
It's a chapter I hadn't anticipated in my book, particularly not in our first year of marriage. But it's our story. And God continues to write with grace and beauty when I'm least expecting it. I'll keep sharing with you because that's what I do. And that's how I believe God gives further meaning to our suffering. I can't tell you how many women God has sent to me in these past few months who have shared their stories of hope, strength, and encouragement in the midst of subfertility/infertility struggles. I am grateful. And so I share mine.
--4--
The husband. He's great. I just love him. He shows me how to love more steadfastly, live more spontaneously, and trust God more deeply. In the midst of my fear of my medical diagnoses, he is my rock and a gift. So grateful.
He's currently knee-deep (or maybe neck-deep?!) in coordinating the local 40 Days for Life Campaign as well as a leader in a local religious liberty men's group committed to bringing our country back to its moral foundation. But when he's not busy with saving lives and freedom...
He let me cut his hair for the first time! And he liked it better than the salon.
Brownie points for shaving down our budget (yep, pun intended) and for my mad skills.
--5--
A friend and I are hosting a women's Bible study beginning tomorrow. I'm so excited. We're doing a "mugs and muffins" breakfast theme for refreshments and hosting it once a month on a Saturday morning. I spent the afternoon making Healthy Cinnamon Sugar Apple Muffins and Pumpkin Cream Cheese Muffins. Here are some pics of the muffins (in process) as well as the book we are using for the study:
--6--
The cornfields are turning golden. It's gorgeous. I'm not ready for winter at all, but I'm thrilled that fall is on its way. Because...you know...my Fall into Autumn board.
 |
| Um. Guilty. |
--7--
Time for some prayer at the Adoration chapel with P. and then I am off to bed! If you are cooler than me and staying up late on a Friday night, check out the other Quick Takes hosted on This Ain't the Lyceum. Goodnight, sweet friends!
Thursday, December 4, 2014
Clutter in the Stable
Stuff. We can't seem to get away from it. We're so blessed with stuff yet we trip over it at the same time.
It's this paradox I struggle with. The boxes of Christmas decorations on my kitchen floor, the piles of dishes in the sink, the endless mountains of mail and paperwork, the tornado aftermath of glitter and glue and cardstock from my attempt at making Christmas cards.
It's driving me crazy. All this clutter.
And it's driving me crazy that it's driving me crazy! Because I'm thankful too. I really am. The stuff is also the blessing. I'm thankful for holidays and festive touches, for the time and money to cook at home, for the sweet cards people send in the mail, for the fun hobby of crafting.
Of course, let's not even talk about the clutter of my mind. You know, all those woman-thoughts we juggle every day as we plan, ponder, worry, and solve everything in the world. I'm pretty sure I live everywhere but the present moment. (Well, and there's the wedding planning perpetually on my mind. There's the little-girl-princess dreaming of a fairy tale wedding but also the adult-saint-in-progress overwhelmed by the materialism of it all and trying to keep it simple and holy!)
Even this post is clutter-y as I lay it all out there in no form of organization. (Has anything I've said yet really made sense?!)
So. I'm wondering.
Does the outer clutter cause the inner clutter? Does my cell phone, my social media, and my own perfectionist expectations cause the messy mind?
Or do I need to clean my heart out before I clean my house?
It's Advent, friends.
So I'm thinking about these things. About the my own messy stable. The manger of my heart. Is it clean? Is it comfortable?
More than anything, is it available?
Or is it full of stuff? So full to where I too often reply to Jesus like a crowded innkeeper? Too much going on today, no room to speak to Him, to see Him in others, to receive His love and listen for His voice. My stable is cluttered. My manger is messy. I need help this Advent.
Lord Jesus, my Savior, help me please. Help me make room for you this month. Help me quiet my space, simplify my schedule, prepare my heart, and invite you in.
Love,
It's this paradox I struggle with. The boxes of Christmas decorations on my kitchen floor, the piles of dishes in the sink, the endless mountains of mail and paperwork, the tornado aftermath of glitter and glue and cardstock from my attempt at making Christmas cards.
It's driving me crazy. All this clutter.
And it's driving me crazy that it's driving me crazy! Because I'm thankful too. I really am. The stuff is also the blessing. I'm thankful for holidays and festive touches, for the time and money to cook at home, for the sweet cards people send in the mail, for the fun hobby of crafting.
Of course, let's not even talk about the clutter of my mind. You know, all those woman-thoughts we juggle every day as we plan, ponder, worry, and solve everything in the world. I'm pretty sure I live everywhere but the present moment. (Well, and there's the wedding planning perpetually on my mind. There's the little-girl-princess dreaming of a fairy tale wedding but also the adult-saint-in-progress overwhelmed by the materialism of it all and trying to keep it simple and holy!)
Even this post is clutter-y as I lay it all out there in no form of organization. (Has anything I've said yet really made sense?!)
So. I'm wondering.
Does the outer clutter cause the inner clutter? Does my cell phone, my social media, and my own perfectionist expectations cause the messy mind?
Or do I need to clean my heart out before I clean my house?
It's Advent, friends.
So I'm thinking about these things. About the my own messy stable. The manger of my heart. Is it clean? Is it comfortable?
More than anything, is it available?
Or is it full of stuff? So full to where I too often reply to Jesus like a crowded innkeeper? Too much going on today, no room to speak to Him, to see Him in others, to receive His love and listen for His voice. My stable is cluttered. My manger is messy. I need help this Advent.
Lord Jesus, my Savior, help me please. Help me make room for you this month. Help me quiet my space, simplify my schedule, prepare my heart, and invite you in.
Love,
Wednesday, November 19, 2014
When It's Hard to Find the Strength to Go to Him
Yesterday morning, I was reflecting on John chapter 11, specifically verses 17-37. The story of Lazarus' death and when Jesus goes to raise him from the dead. But I wasn't thinking about Lazarus. Or even Jesus.
I was thinking about the sisters.
Their grief and the way they dealt with it. Their friendship with Jesus and how their brother's death affected it.
When their brother was ill, they called upon Jesus because of their faith in Him.
"So the sisters sent word to him, saying, 'Master, the one you love is ill.'"
He stayed two days longer in His current town before traveling to their rescue. Because He knew--He had another plan, one that would bring greater glory to God and greater faith and trust in Him.
In the meantime, Lazarus died. And sometimes the unexpected happens in our own lives, when we've cried out to God time and time again to save us from an outcome, heartache, pain. But it happens anyway. I don't know about you, but I've wrestled with this at times. The question "Why?" Eight months ago, I sat alone in the back of the church during Sunday Mass, overwhelmed by my grief but soaking in the Scripture readings. John 11 was being read and this tiny hidden verse hit me as it had never done before. Because I related to Mary:
"When Martha heard that Jesus was coming, she went to meet him; but Mary sat at home."
Even though I still believe in Him, still trust Him with my mind...I just don't have the strength or the words to pray. I sit there but my heart struggles. Is that okay? If I had greater faith, would I be Martha, going out to meet Jesus, boldly and actively continuing on knowing He will make all things right? Instead, sometimes I can't find the strength to go to Him. I sit at home.
But this is the God we serve, dear friends. The One who doesn't hold our weakness against us, but instead pursues us in our grieving. He seeks us out to heal us, even when we don't have the strength to go out and meet Him. He will come to you. He will call your name.
"When [Martha] had said this, she went and called her sister Mary secretly, saying, 'The teacher is here and is asking for you.'"
So let Him find you as you are. Fall at His feet and tell Him all your fears and doubts. He knows already anyway.
"When Mary came to where Jesus was and saw him, she fell at his feet and said to him, 'Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.'"
Your tears matter to God.
"When Jesus saw her weeping and the Jews who had come with her weeping, He became perturbed and deeply troubled, and said 'Where have you laid him?' They said to Him, 'Sir, come and see.'
"And Jesus wept."
Even though He knew He was about to perform a miracle, Jesus cried. Our God...wept.
He didn't hold it against Mary that in her grieving she didn't go out to meet Him. He came to her. He cried with her. And then He brought good from bad, beauty from ashes, victory over death.
I texted a girlfriend these verses yesterday because of a heavy cross she is carrying right now. She replied with "God is so good" because she had been meditating on a verse from this very chapter for the past few days!
It stirred me to share my thoughts with you. Because maybe God wants you to know this. That He's not holding it against you if you're struggling in prayer or growth because of pain or suffering in your life. He's meeting you where you are. He's coming to you, sweet friend. Take whatever steps you can to meet Him but He will close the gap. Fall at His feet. He has a beautiful plan for you but for now, He is simply holding you in His arms.
I'm praying for you.
Love,
3
I was thinking about the sisters.
Their grief and the way they dealt with it. Their friendship with Jesus and how their brother's death affected it.
When their brother was ill, they called upon Jesus because of their faith in Him.
"So the sisters sent word to him, saying, 'Master, the one you love is ill.'"
He stayed two days longer in His current town before traveling to their rescue. Because He knew--He had another plan, one that would bring greater glory to God and greater faith and trust in Him.
In the meantime, Lazarus died. And sometimes the unexpected happens in our own lives, when we've cried out to God time and time again to save us from an outcome, heartache, pain. But it happens anyway. I don't know about you, but I've wrestled with this at times. The question "Why?" Eight months ago, I sat alone in the back of the church during Sunday Mass, overwhelmed by my grief but soaking in the Scripture readings. John 11 was being read and this tiny hidden verse hit me as it had never done before. Because I related to Mary:
"When Martha heard that Jesus was coming, she went to meet him; but Mary sat at home."
Even though I still believe in Him, still trust Him with my mind...I just don't have the strength or the words to pray. I sit there but my heart struggles. Is that okay? If I had greater faith, would I be Martha, going out to meet Jesus, boldly and actively continuing on knowing He will make all things right? Instead, sometimes I can't find the strength to go to Him. I sit at home.
But this is the God we serve, dear friends. The One who doesn't hold our weakness against us, but instead pursues us in our grieving. He seeks us out to heal us, even when we don't have the strength to go out and meet Him. He will come to you. He will call your name.
"When [Martha] had said this, she went and called her sister Mary secretly, saying, 'The teacher is here and is asking for you.'"
So let Him find you as you are. Fall at His feet and tell Him all your fears and doubts. He knows already anyway.
"When Mary came to where Jesus was and saw him, she fell at his feet and said to him, 'Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.'"
Your tears matter to God.
"When Jesus saw her weeping and the Jews who had come with her weeping, He became perturbed and deeply troubled, and said 'Where have you laid him?' They said to Him, 'Sir, come and see.'
"And Jesus wept."
Even though He knew He was about to perform a miracle, Jesus cried. Our God...wept.
He didn't hold it against Mary that in her grieving she didn't go out to meet Him. He came to her. He cried with her. And then He brought good from bad, beauty from ashes, victory over death.
I texted a girlfriend these verses yesterday because of a heavy cross she is carrying right now. She replied with "God is so good" because she had been meditating on a verse from this very chapter for the past few days!
It stirred me to share my thoughts with you. Because maybe God wants you to know this. That He's not holding it against you if you're struggling in prayer or growth because of pain or suffering in your life. He's meeting you where you are. He's coming to you, sweet friend. Take whatever steps you can to meet Him but He will close the gap. Fall at His feet. He has a beautiful plan for you but for now, He is simply holding you in His arms.
I'm praying for you.
Love,
3
Monday, November 10, 2014
Once in a while, right in the middle of an ordinary life, love gives us a fairy tale.
This fairy tale has had its share of fire-breathing dragons, damsels in distress, and tangled forests.
And to be honest? It probably will continue to.
But that's okay...“Fairy tales are more than true: not because they tell us that dragons exist, but because they tell us that dragons can be beaten.”
Our tale?
We ask for a little help from our friends...
A lot of time, tears, grace, and growth. Dragons being beaten. Dark forests being traveled.
And then one day...
This.
The end.
Just kidding. It's only the beginning. And I'm beyond grateful to be walking this path with this man whom I admire, respect, and love so deeply. What a gift. What an incredible joy and blessing from above. Thank YOU for your faithful friendship as a reader, for staying with me through the storms and sunshine. Please continue to do so, for I treasure you and love sharing life with you. Pray for us and know that I pray for you.
Life is beautiful.
"Every person's life is a fairy tale written by God's fingers." -Hans Christian Andersen
And to be honest? It probably will continue to.
But that's okay...“Fairy tales are more than true: not because they tell us that dragons exist, but because they tell us that dragons can be beaten.”
Our tale?
 |
| Once upon a time we met in Summer 2011 at a church picnic. He fell head over heels. I was dating someone else. The photographer claims she knew it was coming... |
 |
| I joined as a chaperone for the mission trip in Spring 2012, no longer in a relationship. Now I fall head over heels for this incredible spiritual leader. Who also has all the charm of, well, you know, Prince Charming. |
 |
| So we work together, |
 |
| We laugh together. |
 |
| We serve together. |
 |
| But life gets messy. Really messy sometimes. |
 |
| We wonder if God is really calling us to play on the same team. |
A lot of time, tears, grace, and growth. Dragons being beaten. Dark forests being traveled.
And then one day...
This.
 |
| He proposes. I say yes. |
 |
| And we live happily ever after. Well, kind of. Because the goal of marriage isn't to be happy... It's to be holy. And to get to Heaven, where we'll be eternally happy. So we're on this journey together with the hope of a happily ever after. |
Just kidding. It's only the beginning. And I'm beyond grateful to be walking this path with this man whom I admire, respect, and love so deeply. What a gift. What an incredible joy and blessing from above. Thank YOU for your faithful friendship as a reader, for staying with me through the storms and sunshine. Please continue to do so, for I treasure you and love sharing life with you. Pray for us and know that I pray for you.
Life is beautiful.
"Every person's life is a fairy tale written by God's fingers." -Hans Christian Andersen
Wednesday, August 14, 2013
Wisdom for Wednesdays
I will trust in You
You've never failed before
I will trust in You
You've never failed before
I will trust in You
If there's a road I should walk
Help me find it if I need to be still
Give me peace for the moment
Whatever Your will, whatever Your will
Help me find it if I need to be still
Give me peace for the moment
Whatever Your will, whatever Your will
Can you help me find it?
Can you help me find it?
Can you help me find it?
I'm giving You fear and You give faith
I giving you doubt, You give me grace
For every step I've never been alone
I giving you doubt, You give me grace
For every step I've never been alone
Even when it hurts, You'll have Your way
Even in the valley I will say
With every breath, You've never let me go
Even in the valley I will say
With every breath, You've never let me go
I lift my empty hands
(Come fill me up again)
Have Your way my King
(I give my all to You)
(Come fill me up again)
Have Your way my King
(I give my all to You)
I lift my eyes again
(Was blind but now I see)
'Cause You are all I need
(Was blind but now I see)
'Cause You are all I need
If there's a road I should walk
Help me find it if I need to be still
Give me peace for the moment
Whatever Your will, whatever Your will
Help me find it if I need to be still
Give me peace for the moment
Whatever Your will, whatever Your will
Can you help me find it?
Can you help me find it?
Can you help me find it?
-"Help Me Find It," Sidewalk Prophets
Tuesday, August 6, 2013
Home from Haiti
I'm home.
My heart has been broken for what breaks His.
And I know my life is changed because of it.
My heart is full. How did I have such joy, peace, and freedom when I had so little in Haiti?
My mind is full. Questions that arise and refuse to settle just yet.
And our nation. It's full, so full. Of stuff. Too much stuff. We can't see through it all.
The Haitians. Their stomachs are empty. Their homes are empty.
Their eyes are full. Sometimes of pain. Sometimes of joy.
Their churches are full.
My eyes are full. Of tears as I remember smiling with the people, laughing with them...crying with them.
My arms are empty. They ache with wanting to hold those precious babies again, those orphans, those sick children. Just one more time to hold you close and love on you and press your tiny bodies close to my heart.
My heart is so full.
My suitcases are empty. Unpacked and stored away.
But how do I unpack my heart?
My heart has been broken for what breaks His.
And I know my life is changed because of it.
My heart is full. How did I have such joy, peace, and freedom when I had so little in Haiti?
My mind is full. Questions that arise and refuse to settle just yet.
And our nation. It's full, so full. Of stuff. Too much stuff. We can't see through it all.
The Haitians. Their stomachs are empty. Their homes are empty.
Their eyes are full. Sometimes of pain. Sometimes of joy.
Their churches are full.
My eyes are full. Of tears as I remember smiling with the people, laughing with them...crying with them.
My arms are empty. They ache with wanting to hold those precious babies again, those orphans, those sick children. Just one more time to hold you close and love on you and press your tiny bodies close to my heart.
My heart is so full.
My suitcases are empty. Unpacked and stored away.
But how do I unpack my heart?
Saturday, March 2, 2013
The Altar
They look at me with such kind eyes. They're rooting for me, they say. But I feel vulnerable. Is it okay that I'm not hiding the pain in my heart? That I let them see my uncertainty, that I don't have it all together? Is it okay to end a conversation with "I don't know?"
It weighs on me. I feel it pressing into my shoulders. It's heavy and unexpected and complicated.
Their kindness soothes me, but it doesn't change things. Their love washes over me gently, but my vision is still clouded. Their support brings me joy, but I still feel this burden.
I'm tired of surrendering. I wish it were a one-time deal.
But it's not.
"The problem with living sacrifices is that they keep crawling off the altar." -Chuck Swindoll
So I crawl back, dragging along my frustration and heartache and confusion. I look for a moment with stubbornness at the familiar altar. My emotions shift from stubbornness to weariness to resolve.
I lug my backpack of emotions to the edge and push it up onto the altar. Then I climb up after and uncurl my clenched hands.
Once again I'm here with my offering, with my very self. I look up to Him with a tear-stained face.
I surrender.
I feel Him approach. His all-powerful presence nearing my altar of sacrifice. Will He accept it once again?
But the next thing I know He's wrapping His arms around me and lifting me off the altar. I'm not sure where my burdens went and it doesn't seem to matter. I rest in His strong yet gentle embrace. Oh, Abba. Is this what surrender feels like because right now I simply feel
Held.
It weighs on me. I feel it pressing into my shoulders. It's heavy and unexpected and complicated.
Their kindness soothes me, but it doesn't change things. Their love washes over me gently, but my vision is still clouded. Their support brings me joy, but I still feel this burden.
I'm tired of surrendering. I wish it were a one-time deal.
But it's not.
"The problem with living sacrifices is that they keep crawling off the altar." -Chuck Swindoll
So I crawl back, dragging along my frustration and heartache and confusion. I look for a moment with stubbornness at the familiar altar. My emotions shift from stubbornness to weariness to resolve.
I lug my backpack of emotions to the edge and push it up onto the altar. Then I climb up after and uncurl my clenched hands.
Once again I'm here with my offering, with my very self. I look up to Him with a tear-stained face.
I surrender.
I feel Him approach. His all-powerful presence nearing my altar of sacrifice. Will He accept it once again?
But the next thing I know He's wrapping His arms around me and lifting me off the altar. I'm not sure where my burdens went and it doesn't seem to matter. I rest in His strong yet gentle embrace. Oh, Abba. Is this what surrender feels like because right now I simply feel
Held.
Thursday, February 14, 2013
My Valentine's Day Story
A lot can happen from one Valentine's Day to the next.
Trust me. I know.
One year ago today I was single on Valentine's Day. And because I love the holiday, it wasn't horrible. But it wasn't great, either.
I was a few months fresh out of a breakup. The years before had been ones of confusion and pain and lots and lots of growth. Peace, joy, and hope had sprouted from the ashes and were growing stronger each day.
Valentine's Day found me driving home alone in the evening from an hour of Adoration at church with my Jesus. I was in a season of surrender. I had tried to control and plan and make things happen long enough. It was all His now. I had seen Him time and time again pick me up from the shattered pieces so gently, so lovingly. I wanted Him first in my life and I trusted Him with my future.
But my heart still ached with its broken dreams.
A Kutless song came on the radio as I drove through the quiet black night with my passenger seat empty but my heart full.
My favorite band was singing:
When the path is daunting
And every step exhausting
I'm not alone.
And I knew it was true. Every fiber of my being felt this truth and rested in it. Though I was tired and struggled on this path, I was not alone.
I feel you draw me closer
All these burdens on my shoulder
I'm not alone, I'm not alone
You pull me me from this place.
Yes. Yes. He knew the burdens of my past, my heart, my life in this season. But still He pulled me close to Him, to His heart beating with an overwhelming, inexhaustible love for me.
The music swelled and the lead vocalist burst out in praise at this God who draws us to Him,
Hallelujah,
He sang. And my heart was swelling with the music and tears coursed down my cheeks as I praised God with him.
You carry me every day
You carry me all all the way
Hallelujah...You carry me to the cross
Ah, this song was the song of my heart. This was beauty and grace. How could I feel such joy and reassurance and love in the midst of brokenness? Only God can do that. We may carry broken dreams or unfulfilled desires or mental, physical, emotional, even spiritual burdens...but He carries us. And He walks beside us so we are never, ever alone. He carries us to His cross and shows us real love that gave everything for us. For me. For you.
One week after that night I would go on a retreat with the man I would fall deeply in love with.
Nine months later he would break up with me as tears rolled down his face.
Eleven months later he would call me, and we would talk, and we would step cautiously back into this relationship after a few weeks. He would continue to treat me with such kindness and love and respect, that I would fall deeply in love with him once again.
And one year later, he would take me out to dinner on Valentine's Day.
A lot can happen from one Valentine's Day to the next. Trust me. Better yet, trust Him.
Trust me. I know.
One year ago today I was single on Valentine's Day. And because I love the holiday, it wasn't horrible. But it wasn't great, either.
I was a few months fresh out of a breakup. The years before had been ones of confusion and pain and lots and lots of growth. Peace, joy, and hope had sprouted from the ashes and were growing stronger each day.
Valentine's Day found me driving home alone in the evening from an hour of Adoration at church with my Jesus. I was in a season of surrender. I had tried to control and plan and make things happen long enough. It was all His now. I had seen Him time and time again pick me up from the shattered pieces so gently, so lovingly. I wanted Him first in my life and I trusted Him with my future.
But my heart still ached with its broken dreams.
A Kutless song came on the radio as I drove through the quiet black night with my passenger seat empty but my heart full.
My favorite band was singing:
When the path is daunting
And every step exhausting
I'm not alone.
And I knew it was true. Every fiber of my being felt this truth and rested in it. Though I was tired and struggled on this path, I was not alone.
I feel you draw me closer
All these burdens on my shoulder
I'm not alone, I'm not alone
You pull me me from this place.
Yes. Yes. He knew the burdens of my past, my heart, my life in this season. But still He pulled me close to Him, to His heart beating with an overwhelming, inexhaustible love for me.
The music swelled and the lead vocalist burst out in praise at this God who draws us to Him,
Hallelujah,
He sang. And my heart was swelling with the music and tears coursed down my cheeks as I praised God with him.
You carry me every day
You carry me all all the way
Hallelujah...You carry me to the cross
Ah, this song was the song of my heart. This was beauty and grace. How could I feel such joy and reassurance and love in the midst of brokenness? Only God can do that. We may carry broken dreams or unfulfilled desires or mental, physical, emotional, even spiritual burdens...but He carries us. And He walks beside us so we are never, ever alone. He carries us to His cross and shows us real love that gave everything for us. For me. For you.
One week after that night I would go on a retreat with the man I would fall deeply in love with.
Nine months later he would break up with me as tears rolled down his face.
Eleven months later he would call me, and we would talk, and we would step cautiously back into this relationship after a few weeks. He would continue to treat me with such kindness and love and respect, that I would fall deeply in love with him once again.
And one year later, he would take me out to dinner on Valentine's Day.
A lot can happen from one Valentine's Day to the next. Trust me. Better yet, trust Him.
Sunday, December 16, 2012
Go and Be Healed
We stood for the
Gospel as we always do at Mass, out of love and respect for the powerful words
of Jesus. It was Thanksgiving Day. The church was packed with people who had
come to thank the good Giver. I was squished comfortably nestled between
my brothers in the pew.
I was thankful. But I was broken. And raw.
My focus was simply on getting through one day at a time, yet the question still lingered.
Where do I go from here?
I don't want to go anywhere. I want my knight to come rescue me...except that my knight broke up with me. That never happens in fairy tales.
Then the priest began to read from the Gospel, from the Book that is better than any fairy tale ever written…
I was thankful. But I was broken. And raw.
My focus was simply on getting through one day at a time, yet the question still lingered.
Where do I go from here?
I don't want to go anywhere. I want my knight to come rescue me...except that my knight broke up with me. That never happens in fairy tales.
Then the priest began to read from the Gospel, from the Book that is better than any fairy tale ever written…
|
11
|
On
the way to Jerusalem he was passing along between Sama'ria and Galilee.
|
|
12
|
And
as he entered a village, he was met by ten lepers, who stood at a distance
|
|
13
|
and
lifted up their voices and said, "Jesus, Master, have mercy on us."
|
|
14
|
When
he saw them he said to them, "Go and show yourselves to the
priests." And as they went they were cleansed.
|
|
15
|
Then
one of them, when he saw that he was healed, turned back, praising God with a
loud voice,
|
|
16
|
and
he fell on his face at Jesus' feet, giving him thanks. Now he was a
Samaritan.
|
|
17
|
Then
said Jesus, "Were not ten cleansed? Where are the nine?
|
|
18
|
Was
no one found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?"
|
|
19
|
And
he said to him, "Rise and go your way; your faith has made you
well." -Luke 17:11-19
|
He said to them, "Go." And they went. Then they were healed. They had to step out in faith before they received their healing. Imagine their faith and trust in Jesus...leprosy sores all over them as they began their journey. What if they got to the high priests and the sores were still there? If no healing had taken place? Did they wonder that? Or did they simply trust in Jesus' command to "Go" and know that somehow, some way, as they journeyed...He would heal them.
The lesson wasn't lost on me. In all my pain and confusion and heartache, I wanted to curl up and wait for healing--or answers-- before I kept going. But Jesus asks me to trust Him. To keep going and trust that He is here and that the healing is a process.
It takes faith to 'go' when we're not sure what will happen on the way. It takes faith to walk when we're limping. To stand up when we're bleeding. To trust when we're hurting.
But faith makes us well, Jesus tells us (verse 19).
So we step out in faith and we keep going.
The healing is coming. And the Healer is with us.
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
Wisdom for Wednesdays
"If God is here for us and not elsewhere, then in fact this place is holy and this moment is sacred."
-Isabel Anders
Sunday, November 25, 2012
Still Here
I slipped in to church four minutes before it started and found a comforting spot between my parents and my brothers. I knelt down to pray for a moment, my head throbbing from one of the frequent headaches I seem to get lately. Tension was in my heart, too, as I fought against thoughts and emotions that threatened to overtake me--many of them planted there by the Evil One, no doubt.
Why am I here? Where is God in all of this and what is His plan? Am I doing something wrong?
Unanswerable questions are the worst, but they seem to be the ones that surface when we're in pain. In a brief moment, I see the past few years...a broken engagement, polycystic ovarian syndrome, major surgery across the country. The fight for joy, for growth, for healing in so many areas. The beauty that came from ashes and pain. Renewed faith. Falling in love again. Walking on stable ground once again...yes, even dancing.
Only to find out the surgery didn't work. That the dream-come-true of this man I loved was simply that--a dream. The fight for joy, for hope, begins again...but I'm battle weary.
And if I'm going to be real...a little angry sometimes.
I don't want to be. But I feel it every once in a while, in a little corner of my heart. Hurt. Doubt. Questioning. And a hint of anger. Yet I know that emotions are just feelings. It's what I chose to do with them. So I keep praying--even if I just sit there sometimes. And I keep choosing trust--hoping the feelings of joy and hope will come back in time. That He will be faithful once again. I choose to come to church tonight.
I kneel there, with all these thoughts and emotions swirling in the few minutes before Mass starts.
And I tell Him, with an odd mix of defiance and pleading, that after all of this...
"I'm still here, God."
I want Him to know. The effort it takes to follow Him some days. I want Him to remind me that it's worth it.
And then I hear His voice in my heart, loud and clear. His response melts away my stubbornness, my loneliness, my doubt. It's exactly what my heart was needing--begging--to hear, though I didn't know it until then.
"So am I."
Why am I here? Where is God in all of this and what is His plan? Am I doing something wrong?
Unanswerable questions are the worst, but they seem to be the ones that surface when we're in pain. In a brief moment, I see the past few years...a broken engagement, polycystic ovarian syndrome, major surgery across the country. The fight for joy, for growth, for healing in so many areas. The beauty that came from ashes and pain. Renewed faith. Falling in love again. Walking on stable ground once again...yes, even dancing.
Only to find out the surgery didn't work. That the dream-come-true of this man I loved was simply that--a dream. The fight for joy, for hope, begins again...but I'm battle weary.
And if I'm going to be real...a little angry sometimes.
I don't want to be. But I feel it every once in a while, in a little corner of my heart. Hurt. Doubt. Questioning. And a hint of anger. Yet I know that emotions are just feelings. It's what I chose to do with them. So I keep praying--even if I just sit there sometimes. And I keep choosing trust--hoping the feelings of joy and hope will come back in time. That He will be faithful once again. I choose to come to church tonight.
I kneel there, with all these thoughts and emotions swirling in the few minutes before Mass starts.
And I tell Him, with an odd mix of defiance and pleading, that after all of this...
"I'm still here, God."
I want Him to know. The effort it takes to follow Him some days. I want Him to remind me that it's worth it.
And then I hear His voice in my heart, loud and clear. His response melts away my stubbornness, my loneliness, my doubt. It's exactly what my heart was needing--begging--to hear, though I didn't know it until then.
"So am I."
Friday, November 16, 2012
Quick Takes-- Take Two
--1--
I went grocery shopping last Tuesday. I detest grocery shopping this time of year. It's just so commercialized and materialistic, it drives me crazy. (so much for nixing the negative thoughts...) It didn't help my hurting heart either. BUT (positive thought coming...wait for it...) the checkout lady was wonderful. My heavy heart had me pitifully close to tears the whole trip, but this sweet woman was so kind and patient and genuinely friendly. It sounds overly simple, but it can mean so much when someone is nice to you when you're hurting, you know? It really makes me want to be more careful about cultivating a kind and gentle attitude towards everyone...you just never know what someone is going through.
--2--
My girlfriends. I love them. They are truly my second family and I'm incredibly grateful for them. What a gift they have been this week. I sent out an email to my share group and other close girls and asked for their prayers about the breakup with P. and that they not call or try to get together for awhile because I needed some time alone instead of answering questions over and over, even though well-meaning and loving. One friend called five minutes after I sent the email because she simply read the first line of the email and didn't get any further before picking up the phone to support me. Two of them knocked on my door one evening with a gift basket of sweet goodies they put together and the reassurance that I "didn't have to say anything." Another dropped off three different Psalms to pray and said she didn't need to know the details. My sister came and helped me clean and brought me a bag of thoughtfulness. And the rest of them sent texts and emails of love and prayer and support. Even you sweet online bloggie friends. My heart is full of humble gratitude. I'm just overwhelmed by you. And I want to be like you. You godly, grace-filled women who remind me what Christ is like. You are my Mark Chapter 2 friends...carrying me on my mat to the Healer.
--3--
The Pastoral Council of my parish met Tuesday night. I was in charge of gathering info and presenting on an Outreach Committee we are envisioning. I tidied my emotions for the evening and was able to focus on the meeting and even enjoy it. I like this behind-the-scenes of our parish and hearing the group's thoughts and visions on both how to be Christ to the people and minister to their needs as well as how to bring them closer to Christ Himself. It doesn't matter what we do if it's not leading them closer to Him.
--4--
The crisis pregnancy center asked me to consider a bigger role than I expected. I'm still praying about it and spoke with the director of nursing at my current job today to see if it could all be worked out. I feel God's hand in it, yet I'm also okay to let it unfold, one step at a time, and let Him work out the details...because there are a lot of details to work out. Still, it's crazy to see how He's already led me through so many steps to get to this spot. One thing's for sure--the whole experience has already made such an impact on me. And I love love love the director of the CPC. It would be such a blessing to work under her. Maybe she would rub off a little on me...
--5--
We had our second and final night of the Prelude to Advent drama on Wednesday. What a beautiful, soul-stirring presentation. Loved the music and the reflections. Powerful reminders of the gift of the Incarnation. Of Immanuel. Of hope. One of my favorite moments was the end when we sang "O Come O Come Emmanuel" a capella carrying candles in a dark church. We walked to the beat of the song and ended the song holding our candles, quietly and still, on the balcony and up the stairs on both sides of the church. The guests left in a holy, hushed, candle-lit silence. Beautiful.
--6--
NCIS and RCIA. (They have nothing to do with each other except that they're both abbreviations. I'm trying to get a two-for-one here.) I've watched about 9 episodes of NCIS this week. Don't judge me. It really helps. I always thought that cop shows were all the same. Not so. I'm hooked on this one with its endearing characters and its lack of all the junk (i.e. immorality) the other ones seem to have. RCIA class last night was great. We went through the parts of the Mass and the beauty, Scripture, and holy mystery embedded within it. I'm really proud of J. and his commitment to learning and seeking. We're all beginning to build community there with each other. Not so great part: our icebreaker question at the beginning was to share how was our week...aw, man. The last question I felt like answering. Grace. Humility.
--7--
Miss him. Badly. Like miss-him-so-badly-I-can't-breathe-sometimes. I sat in the chapel on my lunch break for the third day in a row. So thankful for that chapel and the time with Jesus in the middle of my day. I don't always feel the grace right away, and I'm not going to say I don't struggle with questions and knowing His ways and thoughts...but I choose to trust the Lord's promises (choosing that over and over, day after day). And I'm certain He is the Way Himself and I can't get through this or grow through this without Him. "When you can't trace His hand, trust His heart." Yes. Yes. Yes.
Sunday, October 28, 2012
Steadfast
I sat on the beautiful second-story balcony with my friend K. at the bed-and-breakfast. Dusk was quickly settling on the peaceful Amish hillside. There were no lights for miles, just farmland and barns and white farmhouses in this sweet country of the Plain people.
I unzipped my Bible cover and opened the Word. There was peace in my surroundings but inwardly my heart was hurt and confused and unsettled.
K. had listened to me tearily relay that morning a struggle in my relationship. Misunderstanding. Uncertainty. Tension. (The perfectionist in me hates the messiness in human relationships...but the redeemed child of God in me reminds me that it's okay not to be perfect as long as we belong to the One who is...and that He's pretty amazing at redeeming the messiness).
I opened to Chapter 1 in James. I knew it well--all about doubt and being tossed like waves on the ocean. Yes, this one was fitting for us. Though I don't want to share details, there was some pride in my wounded heart as I chose this chapter tonight. These words were for him, not for me, I thought.
I should know by now that when we read His Word, He usually wants to talk to us...not about other people.
Instead of going right to verse 6 about faith and doubt and such, I started at the beginning. And I felt His Voice deep in my heart, comforting and instructing.
"Count it all joy, my brethren, when you meet various trials, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing." (James 1:2-4)
Count it all joy.
The testing of your faith produces steadfastness.
Let steadfastness have its full effect.
Steadfastness.
That word kept echoing in my mind and heart. I wasn't loving him steadfastly. I was loving him conditionally. I wasn't loving him as Christ loves us--constantly, unconditionally. Steadfastly. This was my call. I heard it in my heart as clearly as if He had spoken it from the heavens in the clear, starry sky tonight. Not to mull over the details of the messiness. Not to worry or to figure things out or to place blame. But to love. Always to love. As Jesus does. He says that this testing of my faith would help produce that kind of steadfast love in me. And choosing to love steadfastly would in turn "have its full effect," which may not be a change in the situation...but a change in me.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He does transform the messiness. Time and time again. So today, months later, as I find myself getting discouraged and in another trial, I remind myself to count it all joy.
And as I catch up with a few friends' blogs on this cozy Sunday afternoon, a little verse sticks out to me at the bottom of my friend Christine's post...James 1:2-4. Thank you, Lord. You always know just what I need.
I unzipped my Bible cover and opened the Word. There was peace in my surroundings but inwardly my heart was hurt and confused and unsettled.
K. had listened to me tearily relay that morning a struggle in my relationship. Misunderstanding. Uncertainty. Tension. (The perfectionist in me hates the messiness in human relationships...but the redeemed child of God in me reminds me that it's okay not to be perfect as long as we belong to the One who is...and that He's pretty amazing at redeeming the messiness).
I opened to Chapter 1 in James. I knew it well--all about doubt and being tossed like waves on the ocean. Yes, this one was fitting for us. Though I don't want to share details, there was some pride in my wounded heart as I chose this chapter tonight. These words were for him, not for me, I thought.
I should know by now that when we read His Word, He usually wants to talk to us...not about other people.
Instead of going right to verse 6 about faith and doubt and such, I started at the beginning. And I felt His Voice deep in my heart, comforting and instructing.
"Count it all joy, my brethren, when you meet various trials, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing." (James 1:2-4)
Count it all joy. The testing of your faith produces steadfastness.
Let steadfastness have its full effect.
Steadfastness.
That word kept echoing in my mind and heart. I wasn't loving him steadfastly. I was loving him conditionally. I wasn't loving him as Christ loves us--constantly, unconditionally. Steadfastly. This was my call. I heard it in my heart as clearly as if He had spoken it from the heavens in the clear, starry sky tonight. Not to mull over the details of the messiness. Not to worry or to figure things out or to place blame. But to love. Always to love. As Jesus does. He says that this testing of my faith would help produce that kind of steadfast love in me. And choosing to love steadfastly would in turn "have its full effect," which may not be a change in the situation...but a change in me.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He does transform the messiness. Time and time again. So today, months later, as I find myself getting discouraged and in another trial, I remind myself to count it all joy.
And as I catch up with a few friends' blogs on this cozy Sunday afternoon, a little verse sticks out to me at the bottom of my friend Christine's post...James 1:2-4. Thank you, Lord. You always know just what I need.
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
Wisdom for Wednesdays
Sometimes all we have to hold on to
Is what we know is true of who You are
So when the heartache hits like a hurricane
That could never change who You are
And we trust in who You are
Even if the healing doesn't come
And life falls apart
And dreams are still undone
You are God You are good
Forever faithful One
Even if the healing doesn't come.
-lyrics from "Even If," by Kutless
Is what we know is true of who You are
So when the heartache hits like a hurricane
That could never change who You are
And we trust in who You are
Even if the healing doesn't come
And life falls apart
And dreams are still undone
You are God You are good
Forever faithful One
Even if the healing doesn't come.
-lyrics from "Even If," by Kutless
Monday, July 2, 2012
When Hearts Bleed
Jumbled thoughts and emotions crash through my mind as I sit
silently in the car, reflecting on the events of the week. Life. New life in
the form of a 6-pound newborn we visit in a cramped apartment with a couple
struggling to make a living. He notices the cigarettes and the cable TV. I
notice the unmarried parents. Bad choices, not bad people. It’s still a child.
Despite their choices they love her. She is a gift.
But my heart stills hurts as I see the beauty of new life
and family.
Because a friend’s body and heart are bleeding this weekend
as she fears the loss of her baby inside.
My body and heart are bleeding as I struggle with PCOS and the possibility of not bearing my own children.
It doesn’t feel fair. To see their gift of a precious child
while we bleed and pray and hope. Then I remember the child is just that—a
gift. Life is a gift. Not earned. God
doesn’t owe anything to me. Or to my friend. Or this couple. Every breath—mine,
hers, theirs, the newborn’s—is a gift. Life itself is a gift that has been
given. Not only life today, but life eternal. So my heart quiets.
I bring all these to the Lord in prayer. My gaze falls on
the crucifix. He hangs there bleeding. Another gift. For me. For her. For them.
We bleed and fear. He bleeds to conquer
fear. He looks at us from the cross and later risen from the tomb, saying “Be not afraid, for I am with you.”
Today this is enough. To know He gives every breath, every
moment of life, as a gift. Given with immeasurable, inexhaustible love.
This is enough.
Friday, April 6, 2012
Good Friday
Then they crucified him.
With him they crucified two revolutionaries, one on his right and one on his left. Those passing by reviled him, shaking their heads and saying, "Aha! You who would destroy the temple and rebuild it in three days, save yourself by coming down from the cross." Likewise the chief priests, with the scribes, mocked him among themselves and said, "He saved others; he cannot save himself.
"Let the Christ, the King of Israel, come down now from the cross that we may see and believe."
-Mark 15:27-32
As I listened to Mark's account of the Passion being read at church last weekend, this part stood out from the rest. My eyes locked on the words as my heart knocked on the door of my memory. A few verses describing the mocking of Jesus as He hung on a cross for the same men laughing at Him. It hadn't seemed significant to me before as it did now in this moment.
Because when I heard it this time, I read something deeper and universal in their words.
Doubt.
While I would be horrified to mock Jesus in the way Mark describes, doubt is something a bit more familiar to me.
The Pharisees and those passing by doubted He could or would come down from the cross.
In my own life, how many times have I doubted not that He could work in my life...but that He would? How many times have I looked at heartache and struggle and storms...and wondered how He was going to get me through it?
Perhaps even His friends that stood beneath Him at the cross wondered why He stayed there. Did they wonder how He could perform such incredible miracles the past three years, only to have it end like this? Why wasn't He proving He was the Son of God, that He was the Messiah, the King?
We know the end of the story. We know that He was proving it by staying on the cross. That only a few days later He would rise victoriously over death. A conqueror. A king. A savior.
I'm so thankful, so overwhelmed, by His decision to stay on the cross. For us. That He ignored the mocking and taunting and challenges because He saw the bigger picture. Eternity hung in the balance.
So too in our lives we remember that He sees the bigger picture. When we wonder why He seems distant, why He's not changing our situation, why our efforts fall short of our goals...He is still there. Still working. Still completely in love with us and caring for us. Our vision is limited, but the resurrection is coming.
Wishing you all a beautiful and blessed celebration this weekend of the events of the Passion, Death, and Resurrection.
Because He lives,
Laura
With him they crucified two revolutionaries, one on his right and one on his left. Those passing by reviled him, shaking their heads and saying, "Aha! You who would destroy the temple and rebuild it in three days, save yourself by coming down from the cross." Likewise the chief priests, with the scribes, mocked him among themselves and said, "He saved others; he cannot save himself.
"Let the Christ, the King of Israel, come down now from the cross that we may see and believe."
-Mark 15:27-32
As I listened to Mark's account of the Passion being read at church last weekend, this part stood out from the rest. My eyes locked on the words as my heart knocked on the door of my memory. A few verses describing the mocking of Jesus as He hung on a cross for the same men laughing at Him. It hadn't seemed significant to me before as it did now in this moment.
Because when I heard it this time, I read something deeper and universal in their words.
Doubt.
While I would be horrified to mock Jesus in the way Mark describes, doubt is something a bit more familiar to me.
The Pharisees and those passing by doubted He could or would come down from the cross.
In my own life, how many times have I doubted not that He could work in my life...but that He would? How many times have I looked at heartache and struggle and storms...and wondered how He was going to get me through it?
Perhaps even His friends that stood beneath Him at the cross wondered why He stayed there. Did they wonder how He could perform such incredible miracles the past three years, only to have it end like this? Why wasn't He proving He was the Son of God, that He was the Messiah, the King?
We know the end of the story. We know that He was proving it by staying on the cross. That only a few days later He would rise victoriously over death. A conqueror. A king. A savior.
I'm so thankful, so overwhelmed, by His decision to stay on the cross. For us. That He ignored the mocking and taunting and challenges because He saw the bigger picture. Eternity hung in the balance.
So too in our lives we remember that He sees the bigger picture. When we wonder why He seems distant, why He's not changing our situation, why our efforts fall short of our goals...He is still there. Still working. Still completely in love with us and caring for us. Our vision is limited, but the resurrection is coming.
Wishing you all a beautiful and blessed celebration this weekend of the events of the Passion, Death, and Resurrection.
Because He lives,
Laura
Saturday, December 17, 2011
Tired
The end of this week finds me exhausted.
Overwhelmed at work from too much to do and too few nurses to do it.
Frustrated with noisy highschoolers at CCD class this week who seem oblivious of the fact that there is a God who wants to know them personally. Frustrated that I lost my patience (and temper!) with them.
Discouraged from mistakes in my solos during choir practice. Too tired to sing.
Nameless emotions from two doctor visits in one week. Abnormal labs. Again. Specialists. Again. Fighting to trust. Again.
I'm tired.
Tomorrow is the fourth week of Advent. And though I don't feel as though I've grown in the way I wanted to during this season before Christmas, I'm comforted by thoughts of Mary during that first advent before Christ's birth...
She was familiar with waiting. The unknown. The struggle for trust and faith.
She was tired.
She traveled a long journey.
But she continued to focus on the gift of Christ within her.
I see her example. I want to follow it as the Magi followed the star.
Despite everything...because of everything...focus on Him. Maybe this what it means to live Advent.
Overwhelmed at work from too much to do and too few nurses to do it.
Frustrated with noisy highschoolers at CCD class this week who seem oblivious of the fact that there is a God who wants to know them personally. Frustrated that I lost my patience (and temper!) with them.
Discouraged from mistakes in my solos during choir practice. Too tired to sing.
Nameless emotions from two doctor visits in one week. Abnormal labs. Again. Specialists. Again. Fighting to trust. Again.
I'm tired.
Tomorrow is the fourth week of Advent. And though I don't feel as though I've grown in the way I wanted to during this season before Christmas, I'm comforted by thoughts of Mary during that first advent before Christ's birth...
She was familiar with waiting. The unknown. The struggle for trust and faith.
She was tired.
She traveled a long journey.
But she continued to focus on the gift of Christ within her.
I see her example. I want to follow it as the Magi followed the star.
Despite everything...because of everything...focus on Him. Maybe this what it means to live Advent.
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Wisdom for Wednesdays
"Take time to be aware that in the very midst of our busy preparations for the
celebration of Christ’s birth in ancient Bethlehem, Christ is reborn in the
Bethlehems of our homes and daily lives. Take time, slow down, be still, be
awake to the Divine Mystery that looks so common and so ordinary yet is
wondrously present.
celebration of Christ’s birth in ancient Bethlehem, Christ is reborn in the
Bethlehems of our homes and daily lives. Take time, slow down, be still, be
awake to the Divine Mystery that looks so common and so ordinary yet is
wondrously present.
"An old abbot was fond of saying, ‘The devil
is always the most active on the highest feast days.’
"The supreme trick of Old Scratch is to have
us so busy decorating, preparing food, practicing music and cleaning in
preparation for the feast of Christmas that we actually miss the coming of
Christ. Hurt feelings, anger, impatience, injured egos—the list of clouds that
busyness creates to blind us to the birth can be long, but it is familiar to us
all."
-Edward Hays, A Pilgrim’s Almanac
Friday, November 4, 2011
On My Knees
I’ve found it hard to pray lately.
For many different reasons. Sometimes I’m toolazy tired and I barely get a thought in before I’m drifting away. Sometimes I’m distracted. Sometimes I’m moody and don’t feel like talking to God (just keeping it real, folks!). And sometimes…I just really don’t know what to say. It’s not that I don’t have things I want, or things I’m thankful for, or others to pray for…
It just feels like it’s all been said.
Yet in the back of my mind is the advice of our dear priest-friend when I was growing up. To keep praying in the dry seasons. You can shorten it, you can simplify it, but keep praying.
(Now trust me when I say I don’t always follow this wise advice. I’ve slipped into bed with a quick thought up to heaven while I’m snuggling under those polka-dot sheets. And I’ve rushed some Bible reading in before Rachael Ray comes on in the morning on a day off. But let’s move on to the positive, shall we?!)
So one night recently, I attempted to stir up the routine a little. I turned off my light and I knelt beside my bed. There’s something about kneeling that makes it a lot harder to fall asleep while you’re praying! And I followed the ACTS acronym for prayer—just one thing per letter. It’s simple, it’s thorough, and it helps me be purposeful in connecting with the Lord.
A- Adoration. I think of a way I was in awe of His presence that day…something that reminds me of His power and greatness. A comforting reminder that His ways and thoughts are higher.
C- Contrition. In order to keep growing, I need to be real with myself and look at a way I failed to be faithful to Him and others this day. Let’s call it what it is: sin! Acknowledge it, learn from it, and be sorry for it. His grace and mercy are abundant.
T- Thanksgiving. Something from the day that warms my heart, however great or small. There’s always something to be thankful for, and gratitude amazingly improves my perspective.
S- Supplication. Who did I interact with today that needs lifted up in prayer? What’s something that's really been weighing on my mind or heart today?
That’s it. One item per category. But you know what? Once I get going, I often think of more things to tell Him about. And if I don’t—I know I’ve at least followed Father M.’s advice and that of 1 Thessalonians 5:17. God sees and knows our efforts. He is strength when we are weak. His Spirit intercedes for us when we are at a loss for words (Romans 8:26).
If you’re struggling to pray, hang in there! These things are helping me right now, but it’s not about a formula, a to-do list, or a fuzzy feeling. It’s about connecting with the God who made us, redeemed us, and makes us holy one day at a time.
For many different reasons. Sometimes I’m too
It just feels like it’s all been said.
Yet in the back of my mind is the advice of our dear priest-friend when I was growing up. To keep praying in the dry seasons. You can shorten it, you can simplify it, but keep praying.
(Now trust me when I say I don’t always follow this wise advice. I’ve slipped into bed with a quick thought up to heaven while I’m snuggling under those polka-dot sheets. And I’ve rushed some Bible reading in before Rachael Ray comes on in the morning on a day off. But let’s move on to the positive, shall we?!)
So one night recently, I attempted to stir up the routine a little. I turned off my light and I knelt beside my bed. There’s something about kneeling that makes it a lot harder to fall asleep while you’re praying! And I followed the ACTS acronym for prayer—just one thing per letter. It’s simple, it’s thorough, and it helps me be purposeful in connecting with the Lord.
A- Adoration. I think of a way I was in awe of His presence that day…something that reminds me of His power and greatness. A comforting reminder that His ways and thoughts are higher.
C- Contrition. In order to keep growing, I need to be real with myself and look at a way I failed to be faithful to Him and others this day. Let’s call it what it is: sin! Acknowledge it, learn from it, and be sorry for it. His grace and mercy are abundant.
T- Thanksgiving. Something from the day that warms my heart, however great or small. There’s always something to be thankful for, and gratitude amazingly improves my perspective.
S- Supplication. Who did I interact with today that needs lifted up in prayer? What’s something that's really been weighing on my mind or heart today?
That’s it. One item per category. But you know what? Once I get going, I often think of more things to tell Him about. And if I don’t—I know I’ve at least followed Father M.’s advice and that of 1 Thessalonians 5:17. God sees and knows our efforts. He is strength when we are weak. His Spirit intercedes for us when we are at a loss for words (Romans 8:26).
If you’re struggling to pray, hang in there! These things are helping me right now, but it’s not about a formula, a to-do list, or a fuzzy feeling. It’s about connecting with the God who made us, redeemed us, and makes us holy one day at a time.
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