Talking Through the Title Page

Life continues in spite of my inability to sit and type consistent blog posts in more than a year.  My last post was before a barrage of events came into our lives, some oh-so-good and some heartbreaking beyond belief.  Through these past months, as we've walked these events, some in our own lives, others with dear friends, there has been a constant thread of hope.  I'd like to think it is made of the purest white with a bleed of deep red.  Swirling in these events, has been me.  My reactions.  My actions.  My emotions.  My thoughts.  But again, there has been the constant, hope.  All along, my heart held onto a quotation from C.S. Lewis in his book "The Last Battle".  It was read by a dear friend during his sweet one's funeral, and it has been a reminder for my heart and mind, throughout this past year: "All their life in this world and all their adventures in Narnia had only been the cover and title page; now at last they were beginning Chapter One of the Great Story which no one on earth has read; which goes on forever, in which every chapter is better than the one before."

Often, I view the cover and title page of this current life as all there is.  If I am being honest, I give in to the heartache of this world.  I've fallen under the spells and heavy loads of loss and grief.  Their weight causes an easy transition to countless days where starving for light and hope reigns.  The darkness is consuming and harrowing; it easily closes in and locks my heart away.  Others' careless  but sometimes well-meaning words become more callouses, taunting my heart to apathy; others' lives become reminders of what has been taken.  The rising of the sun each morning is both a relief from lack of sleep and a cruel reminder of a new day which requires me to function.  There's this.

But then, there's this... resilient hope, which will not die.  The reminder that I am not alone, we are not alone.  The first chapter has not even begun.  So Sing.  Sing for your heart to hear, for your friends to hear, for your family to hear, for your Savior to change the darkness into hope, step by step, moment by moment.  Read the Bible, because it is the Great Story's binding.  The words will not return void because of the thread of Christ's sacrifice, purest white with red bleeding through, and His victory over death. Don't let your heart forget hope.  In the darkest moments, there IS light, and yes, sometimes it is hard to see...but it is there.  Commit to look for it.  Let the reminder that the book, the Great Story, is not only authored by, but held by the hands of the Creator God.  Live in this hope and find, daily, minute by minute, ways to bury your soul in it, and to lift your head to live in the light of His hope. 

That being said, last year, we joined the Y.  It was one of the best decisions we've made.  We did have to re-budget a bit, but we decided (along with my doctor's recommendation) it was a needed change.  How does this have anything to do with hope?  Stick with me.

The view from our Y is worth the cost.  When I'm interval training on the treadmill, my view includes the mountains, as far as my eye can see.  On rainy days, the fog rolls over them and the sky's colors are deep navy blues and violets and splotches of gray.  Sunny days there are streams of light, which change their focus at the whim of the clouds moving freely between earth and sky.  My time spent on the treadmill has been coupled with this view and God's word.  A habit started last Spring, was just what my heart/body needed to traverse the path God laid out for our family this past Fall.  All the while, I was reminded of how light makes it through, though the days be sun-filled or storm-ridden.  And, usually?  The light isn't sunshine.  Instead, it is God's word, faithful, true, constant, coming back to me in snippets, in passages, in moments when I can't see past the dark, but He can.  He has.  He will.  All the while, He's teaching me how to travel through the darkness by the light of His Word, trusting He's writing the Grandest story, which will include my story, one I'm hoping will point others to Him.

In all honesty, I can't wait for Chapter One to begin...oh how my heart longs for the Chapter where loss and death and sin are gone.  But, as I sit here, I'm beyond grateful for the gift of this life, for the ability to be present for the authoring of the title page and cover, and for the daily decision to live for hope.  So, I'm living and learning, and I'm thankful.

A Letter

To my little one:

Moments I imagine with you through a salty haze of tears flit through my mind, moments we will never realize.  Your heartbeat resonating across a small office.  Oh.  To hear the beat of your heart.  Your movements being counted and felt.  Then, your cries being heard, your smallness being held, your face being known. Tears fall at the thought of you. 

I've gauged the ghost of your growth, not by the girth of my belly, but by the facts about fruit sizes I heard others mention in passing conversations; their baby's approximate arrival time shared with your day.  Each night, I've rocked your brother at bedtime, and sometimes, this gave me quiet, in which to cry.  As I held him, my arms felt the weight of a sweet little one, and for a while, I could picture what it would be like to hold you.  And, as he drifted to sleep, gripping his worn blankie while it also covers his face, (something he's done since he was teeny); I rocked and held him close, wondering how you would have had your own sleepy habits.

This past Autumn and these past weeks, I've watched your older brothers play, carefree and wild, running, climbing, racing...but always, how your Bubba comes to a stand-still to check on his little brother after a fall.  I close my eyes and wonder at how gentle they would be with you, and a laugh escapes my lips as my wonder takes a dose of reality with the question of how many times I would have had to repeat "gentle hands, boys".  Often, when your daddy drives in from a day of work, your brothers scream in delight and run to greet him by attacking his legs with hugs.  He picks them up, together, in a huge embrace...with room leftover, my heart aches to see you there.

Months have passed with quiet prayers for grace, learning each new day with the knowledge you were there, but are no longer.  Singing through sorrow is a weighty task, little one.  And, grief coupled with the joy of these other gifts?  It's a difficult road to walk.  I stumbled much.  I still do.  But, in the stumbling, there is hope.  Even in sorrow, there are moments, where joy shines brightly.  Each day, brings new mercies.  And, your absence, made leaning into my Father even more necessary.  His grace is sufficient.  Thank you, from your momma's aching heart, for teaching me about my Heavenly Father.  Even if...no, even when, He is good.

As I sit on a park bench, tiny hands reach up from a nearby stroller, and I see yours, small fingers reaching out to be held.  Sunlight filters through the trees, creating shadows and shade, and I breathe in slowly, words whispered on my lips...'trust in the Lord with all your heart', 'wait for the Lord, be strong and courageous, wait for the Lord', 'rejoice in the Lord always', 'He will hold me fast'...

I loved you from the first moment I knew you...your daddy and me, we loved you.  We love you still.  Most of all, we are thankful that though the weight of this world is heavy with loss, we can trust our Father's hand.  He knew you, sweet one.  He knew you before we did and more fully than we ever could have known you.  Trusting you to Him and trusting my heart to Him, especially today.

I love you more than sunshine.
Mommy

In the Waiting Place

We love Dr. Seuss in this house.  When my biggest boy reads during his daily quiet time, he differentiates between his book choices with the following labels:  fiction, nonfiction, Pete the Cat, or Dr. Seuss books.  With my teaching background, you have to know this makes my day!  One of his books, which I've read countless times and also adore, is Oh, the Places You'll Go! It never fails to draw wonder and giggles from my kiddos and myself.  Lately though, one section has bothered me because it is not how I want my boys to perceive life.  Yes, I'm that mom; no apologies, because well, this is who I am.

You can get so confused



that you'll start in to race

down long wiggled roads at a break-necking pace

and grind on for miles across weirdish wild space,

headed, I fear, toward a most useless place.

The Waiting Place...

...for people just waiting.

Waiting for a train to go or a bus to come, or a plane to go

or the mail to come, or the rain to go

or the phone to ring, or the snow to snow

or waiting around for a Yes or No

or waiting for their hair to grow.

Everyone is just waiting...

NO!  That's not for you!

Somehow you'll escape

all that waiting and staying.

You'll find the bright places

where Boom Bands are playing.



{Oh, the Places You'll Go!, Dr. Seuss}

As I sit here writing this entry, (and look back to where I have at least three in draft form which haven't made it to the light of the publish button), I'm waiting.  The past weeks have been filled with areas in my life where waiting is where I must be for now.  Be it, waiting on the sale of a house, waiting on the results of tests, academic and medical, waiting for answers to questions we've prayed over for months/years, I've been waiting.  And, I've waited with friends, with family about things in this life, which just take the life out of you because of the hardness, the chafing on one's heart, the brokenness which ensues. 

In the midst of the waiting, I've tried to follow Dr. Seuss' lead and unwait, if you will?  I've done things to hurry results or decided to just do something or (yep, I am going to say it) I've worried to the point that I can't sleep, I eat my feelings, I am miserable, or I am not present with my family or my responsibilities.  Now, I do agree with Dr. Seuss, I'm not just sitting waiting for my hair to grow!  {But, then again, I'm not fighting cancer, where waiting for my hair to grow might just be where God has me?}  I realize Dr. Seuss' intentions were more likely meant to inspire others to reach goals or to face one's fears or to eventually succeed after failures...But, as one who bows her knee to Jesus as Lord and Savior, I think there is a fine line between his perspective and what scripture calls me to do.

Recently, I listened to part of a sermon by Matt Chandler.  (Sidenote:  this man is waiting and has been waiting and its life and death.  Google his story, please.  Matt Chandler, Village Church, cancer.)  In his sermon, he referenced Psalm 42 and a phrase repeated often in scripture..."WAIT ON THE LORD".  The following words caught my eye and my heart's cry.  How does one wait on the Lord? 

You position yourself under the waterfall of grace

and you wait while you walk in obedience,

one step at a time...

asking for God to restore the joy of your salvation...

and you wait...

because they who wait on the Lord,

he WILL renew their strength

they will mount up with wings like eagle's

they will run and no longer be weary

they will walk and not grow faint.

{Matt Chandler on 'Waiting'}

You see, in the waiting, there is much good, but not necessarily 'feeling good'.  I've found, in "the waiting place" is where He molds me.  And, in the waiting, this is where I am sanctified, because my control is taken away, and I'm left holding what most would deem nothing, but from where I stand, it's everything.  In my waiting place, there are His promises{see parts from Isaiah 40, Psalm 51), His faithfulness, His comfort...all found in His word.  And in His word, is where the waterfall of grace coincides with my reality.  Waiting, according to His standards, is a daily one step at a time process.  It's a letting go of me and my desires, and a rewriting of what I formerly deemed important. 

I'm not writing to tell you I've figured out this waiting thing.  I'm writing to be honest about my struggle to wait as He's called me to do.  Yet, in the moments, by His grace, where I am able to have a taste of what truly waiting on Him is like, I find rest and a quiet encouraged by His "be still and know I am God".  And in the rest of the waiting, I find hope, not in me or in the waiting, but in my Lord and Savior.  He who determines my steps and to which place my steps visit:  waiting one foot forward at a time or moving at a quicker pace.  All the while, I am being redeemed.  And that, my friends, makes the waiting place worth it.  My prayer is that as I wait, others would see His impact on my sinful heart and want to know Him more.

We still love Dr. Seuss in this house.  We just love Jesus more.  Sort of like we love March 1st and celebrating Dr. Seuss' bday.  We just love Christmas and celebrating the birth of the King of Kings more. 😉😉

The Hope of Being Held

About an hour ago, I was putting my littlest man down for nap.  He is not into sleeping but I know he needs snoozing time.  I was holding him tightly, even when he resisted, and singing into his ear.  As he kicked and giggled, I felt him slowly giving into the rest he needed, and I let him fall asleep stretching from his head just under my chin to his chubby feet laid out on my knees.  Holding him, while asleep, is such a precious time for me, and at times, it's just what we both need.

In the past six months, a song has become one of my all-time favorites; in fact, I sing the chorus as part of the going to night-night routine.  It's a reminder based on John 6:39-40 "And, this is the will of Him who sent me, that I should lose nothing of all that He has given me, but raise it up on the last day.  For this is the will of my Father, that everyone who looks on the Son and believes in Him should have eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day".
The lyrics by Ada Habershon/Merker caught my ear every gently and pulled me towards my true source of strength.  In my day to day struggle, I was reminded of Christ's hold on my life, and that once again, it isn't about my abilities or lack thereof, but about my Heavenly Father's promise through Christ.
The first verse echoed how I often feel.  Those days when I wake up, already discouraged, because even with the hope I have in Christ, I must fight sin.  Discouraged because I feel failure looming, or because already in my waking thoughts, I've already given in to my own selfishness, comparisons, anger, or just plain wanting more sleep.  Other times, it's the close of day, where I'm on my knees, reflecting on my failures and seeking forgiveness, when I just feel worn down by nothing but me, sinner that I am.  The following words pointed me to Jesus' completed work on my behalf and towards the Holy Spirit's continued presence in my life.  Oh, how my heart was reminded of His love and His hold, steadfast and faithful.  His ever present hold, finished and fast, in spite of me and my fears, my inability to cling on my own, my tendency to listen to temptations, and my coldness towards Him.


When I fear my faith will fail
Christ will hold me fast
When the tempter would prevail
He will hold me fast
I could never keep my hold
Through life’s fearful path
For my love is often cold
He must hold me fast 


He will hold me fast,
He will hold me fast,
For my Savior loves me so,
He will hold me fast.


I am grateful for the chance to hold my littles and to provide them rest.  I am ever more grateful to be able to rest in the hold of my Savior's work on the cross.  My prayer is that you too, would know the hope found in being held fast.

To begin again

Let me simply say, I am hesitantly, back from a long absence.  Although I love writing and blogging is a piece of that puzzle, I found it more stressful to try to keep up with blogging than it was helpful.  I had to reassess what was most important and frankly, ask myself, why am I blogging?  So here I am, over a year later, deciding my blogging world will begin anew but without rhyme or reason except to share, as honestly as possible, the joys AND the struggles of following in the footsteps of Jesus.  This will definitely include family updates, interspersed with my daily learning to be more like Him.  I'm in a life pattern of constant challenge coupled with encouragment and conviction.  (I've embraced this to be known as sanctification, only available thru the faithful work of the Holy Spirit and rooted in the saving grace of Jesus' death on a cross and defeat over death for sinners such as myself.  Amen!  Thanks be to God!)  A great deal of my normal is life as a momma to my boys and my identity as a wife to my Scott.  These facets to my identity are gifts from God and relationships He uses to grow me.
Don't be surprised if it's not all sunshine and starry beauty.  That's not me and I have to admit, that is a part of why I had to let go for awhile...I had to be reminded that each day we are given here, for this place is not my true home, is going to be a battle.  And, I don't want to sugar coat my life. Is there a bounty of beauty found in my day to day existence? Yes, oh yes!  Are there moments of love, silliness, and just enjoyment?  Yes, yes!  Do I want to fight for joy?  Again, yes!  However, there are rough days, weeks, moments, which drive me to my knees...there are events which bruise and cut us to the core...there are struggles with sin...there are temptations to compare, to give up, to give less than I should...there are nights where sleep is scarce and for me, days that follow when I am so not what God has called me to be.  And so, it's here, in the everyday, where I want to reveal His presence and grace and hope; in the midst of my disheveled life, why pressing on is what I choose.  (Disclaimer: as my daddy often says, I will refrain from puking my problems or revealing all my
sins to the world; instead, I will share the darkness of a tunnel, but my focus will be the Light at the
tunnel's end.  So, never fear...puke is not my plan.)
So, hello again.  Praying you will see more of, and perhaps, meet my Jesus, as I share how He can
teach a sinner like me to see Him more fully in all His glory and grace with each new day.
                    "On your best of days, you must rest all your hopes on God's grace.
                    On your worst of days, His finished work should be your refuge.
                    Your posture should always be one of dependence on His finished
                     work and hope in His indwelling Spirit. Period." J.D. Greear

Reading: A Current List

I tend to read books in tandem because of time restraint, need, or interest.  My bedside table has the following reads right now:
"Ordinary" by Michael Horton
This book had me by the second page!  It was recommended by my pastor.  It makes me think and challenges my perspectives about my faith.
"Hope for the Weary Mom" by Stacey Thacker & Brooke McGlothlin
Do I need to say anything more?  The quotation from my last entry was from this book.  Encouraging, hope-inducing, needed.
"Praying for Boys" by Brooke McGlothlin
Keeping me on my knees.  Will most likely be worn to the point of ragged but the time F and KE have reached the age of three, at least that's my hope.  Reminds me I'm not alone, who's in charge, and how to make the biggest difference in the lives of these sweet boys God's entrusted to us.
"Be Rich" by Warren Wiersbe
Sunday School study on Ephesians!
"Give Them Grace" by Elise Fitzpatrick
A constant reread to remind about discipline and how to love my boys as I do it.
"Folly Beach" by Karen White
Fun, girly reading...when a brain break is a necessity.

Thankful for books, for learning, and for the imagination escape they sometimes bring...



                           

Realness

...is where I am right now.  At least, for today, it's where I'm sitting and simmering and breathing, Realness.  It's not necessarily the most comfortable or easy, but it's real.  I'm trying to rid myself of my "veil".  Here's a quotation that gets to the grit of now:
"Let us remember that when we talk of the rending of the veil we are speaking in a figure, and the thought of it is poetical, almost pleasant, but in actuality, there is nothing pleasant about it.  In human experience that veil is made of living spiritual tissue; it is composed of sentient, quivering stuff of which our whole beings consist, and to touch it is to touch us where we feel pain.  To tear it away is to injure us, to hurt us and make us bleed...it is never fun to die." -A.W. Tozer, The Pursuit of God

It's a daily thing, this attempt at Real; no it's an every moment struggle.  But, it's worth it, keeping heaven in mind.