My Treasure

Today is Arlo appreciation day. I know, you didn't buy a gift. That's OK. I just wanted to tell you all how much I love my little miracle. I didn't realize when she was born just how much of a miracle she was. Of course it's always a miracle when a healthy baby is born, but it's even more one when you find out what I now know about my blood. She becomes more and more of a joy every day, and I loooooove her guts. Life is so precious. Her life is so precious.

The Anchor Holds

I like music, in case you didn't know that. Really, what I love is lyrics. Poetry is wonderful and when you can put it to just the right music, it's a perfect representation of thoughts and feelings. That's probably why, so often, there's a sort of sound track going on in my mind while i go through life. Having a pretty good memory, there are a lot of songs that stick through years and years and years. A lot of them I wish that didn't, like this morning when I couldn't the Christian parody of "I'm a believer" out of my head. That was annoying. Other ones I've grown very fond of, even though their music is outdated.
I've been thinking of songs that have encouraged me through hard times, and ones I can maybe pass on to someone who's hurting. There's a great list of ones that probably most of you will never hear (because I have a husband who likes old music), and right now, the one that's playing is "The Anchor".
Now, just so you know, I've never been a huge fan of Ray Boltz, but "Allegiance" was the first tape I ever owned, so I have some sentimental attachment to it. And The Anchor Holds is still one of the songs that plays in my sound track when I hurt. The deeper the hurt, the more meaningful it becomes. I think I might even want it played at my funeral some day. So, because I know you all care so much, here are the lyrics.


I have journeyed
Through the long, dark night
Out on the open sea
By faith alone
Sight unknown
And yet His eyes were watching me

CHORUS:
The anchor holds
Though the ship is battered
The anchor holds
Though the sails are torn
I have fallen on my knees
As I faced the raging seas
The anchor holds
In spite of the storm

I've had visions
I've had dreams
I've even held them in my hand
But I never knew
They would slip right through
Like they were only grains of sand

CHORUS

I have been young
But I am older now
And there has been beauty
That these eyes have seen
But it was in the night
Through the storms of my life
Oh, thats where God proved

Grieving in Fellowship

A couple in our church lost their baby last night. He was five months old.
It hurts so much to know a small amount of how much they hurt. Because I have no idea how heavy that burden is, but I know it's so big. My Bible study group prayed for an hour for them, and it felt like all we could do. It's hard to really know what to do or say when something so terrible happens. You don't feel like your life should be going on like normal when you know someone else's world is falling apart. And yet it has to, like a cruel irony... or a beautiful truth that "to everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven".

Having grieved, and having had friends grieve with me, I think I'll list my ideas of how people can help those who are suffering. I don't know how relevant this is to some of you who read this, but probably at some point, you'll have someone who needs the comfort of friendship and family. So here are my thoughts from my own experience.

1) Send a card. It seems trite and useless, but they meant SO MUCH to me to know that people noticed and cared. Sometimes they came from completley unexpected people, and it meant a lot to read their words and the words written on the card. Don't just pick up a random "comfort" car or something. Find one witih a meaningful message. I'm planning to send a card in a couple of weeks, because that was when our stopped coming in and I wished every day that I'd get one in the mail.
2) Make a dinner.
3) Send flowers. I never understood why people gave flowers for funerals, but now I think I do. It meant a lot to just say "we care about you", but they also brightened up the house, which felt so cold and empty.
4) Pray. It's the best thing to do. SOmetimes you don't know what to say but it's OK to pray the same thing as long as you keep meaning it. The same struggles pop up over and over as you grieve, and to know people are lifting you up means a lot. Now, a little side note. I often question peoples' sincerity when they say "I'll pray for you", probably because I know how often I say that with the best intentions and then don't do it. So, if you're going to tell them you're praying for them, try to make it meaningful. If you're committed to praying every day, say so. If you've been paying specific things, tell them. Then they can cling to that when they see your prayers being answered.
5) Find a meaningful gift. It's kind of hard to know what to give, but we got a couple ofthings I really treasure. One is a willow tree angel of rememberence, and another was a basket of flowers that are perennials you can plant into a flower bed. I found a neat website that sells rememberence jewlery for people who have lost children, and there are other ideas like that.
6) Share a verse that meant something to you through a hard time, or one you've discovered and pray for them. OUr words don't always mean a lot, but God's words do not return void.
7) KEEP YOUR DANG MOUTH SHUT. Unless you have an inspired word of God, it's usually best to just not say anything because it usually comes out wrong or can be interpreted wrong. You don't want people to have to convince themselves of your good intention. A hug or an "I'm sorry" go a long way. However nice you think you're being, there's usually room for it to be misinterpreted. I won't list off things that people said to us that weren't helpful, but just think really hard if you're going to say something "comforting".

That's all I have for now. I should probably go and get ready for my day now, since me and Arlene are both still in our pajamas. :o)

Non Events

Sometimes you go into something expecting a big ordeal, and then it ends up being a non-event. A waste of time. Like yesterday. On Saturday I'd had some pain in my thigh that was annoying and hurt quite a bit. Sunday morning when I got up to pee at five, it hurt a lot. When we were getting ready for church, I started to think about the risk of blood clots and realized that people get blood clots in their legs.
So I did what every normal American does and went online to research. Sure enough, the symtoms matched a blood clot. So i called my OB and he said "yeah, if you can swing it, you should get in to an urgent care or er and have them check it out to make sure." So instead of going to church like I'd really wanted, we went to the ER and wasted two hours. It was good to go, you know, but, like most things you worry about, nothing came of it. They don't really know what was causing the pain, and it didn't go away yesterday. I suppose it's a pinched nerve or I slept on it wrong or something.
Anyway it just got me worrying about what that meant if I had ablood clot while on blood thinners, and what they could even do to fix it since blood thinners is the solution to blood clots. but it all worked out and I had no real reason to worry.
The only reason I'm writing all of this is because so many people ask for updates and how it's going and there just isn't much to say. Getting shots at night is interesting but not terribly painful. I'm tired and sick but not as bad with the last two pregnancies. And now my leg hurts. That's all I have to update you on so far.

Trusting

I've thought about writing this entry several times over the last fwe weeks, but always decided to wait. When I went in to the doctor after my stillbirth for the check up, he said "Call me as soon as you get a positive pregnancy test. we'll get you on blood thinners, and you'll have a boring pregnancy." I found out in May that I'm pregnant again. I'm ten weeks along now, and I'll be due Feburary 2 if everything goes well.

So far, it hasn't really been boring. There have been some complications that have been very difficult to deal with after what happened last time. Nothing terribly serious. I found out that, along with Factor V Leiden, I have another genetic defect called MTHFR. It's similar to the Factor V. It increases homocystene levels so your blood makes big clots. I've been taking folic acid for it and they think that's all I really need. I had a hemorrhage that's finally clearing up, so I'm starting lovonox incections today. Lovonox is an anti-coagulant (blood thinner) that's supposed to keep me from developing any clots that would harm the baby. I hope it works.

Being pregnant is always an exersize in faith. You always have to trust God and tell yourself not to worry, knowing that He's in control and He makes the decisions. BUt that's a lot easier to do when you don't have a really good reason to worry. I hadn't really had trouble with it until this pregnancy. Now I'm already fighting the worry and doubt. All the time. I don't wawnt to, because it increases my stress level, blood pressure, etc, and yet, it's really hard to counter it.

I wonder why we fear so many things that are so out of our control... I suppose it's human. And I suppose it's a way to learn to trust God. Last night when I was awake at 3:30, Hebrews 12:2 came to mind: "Let us fix our eyes on jesus, the author and profector of our faith, who, for the joy set before Him endured the cross, scorning its shame and sat down at the right hand of the Father." I think it was supposed to be a message, which I neglected to take fully take to heart. I need to just keep thinking about Jesus, and stop worry about tomorrow because tomorrow will worry about itself.

Me and my Bat

Anyone who's known me for long or been to my house knows that I have a secret passion for super heroes. If you browsed my books, you would find a small collection of graphic novels on the bottom shelf of my bookcase. If you went through my toybox filled with my own toys that I didn't have to share with my siblings, you would discover a collection of plastic action figures and assessories, mostly collected in high school and college. If you shop with me, you find my eyes wandering toward the little caped pajamas that advertise someone who can fly. I like super heroes. I just do.

If you know me, you know who my favorite of them all is. It's no secret to most that I am an avid Bat-fan. It all started when I was a little kid, and they showed the cheesy Adam West Batman shows as reruns after school. What can I say? I liked the bright colors and the sweet theme song. The cool gadgets, the sweet car (which, I might add, resides in our very own Marion Iowa) and the bat ears. I liked it. I put a bat pole up in my tree house (an old garden hose tied to a branch). I spent my free time at school making things that would fit in a utility belt.

My facination with detectives and spying only added to the intrigue of Batman. I saw the movies when I was a little older. And then, a great thing happened in 1992. Warner Brothers produced a new cartoon. The Adventures of Batman. It was an awesome cartoon, and my love for it cemented my admiration of the best super hero ever.

But aside from those superficial factors, I've thought through the years what made me identify with Batman more than, say, Supergirl? Or Wonderwoman or the Flash or Superman? So now, for a glimpse into the darkness of my mind, I will explain to you why I relate with Batman and have loved him all these years. This is not a top ten list, but I thought ten was a nice round number.

1) He's an outsider. In fifth, sixth, seventh grade, I discovered that people didn't like me. In general, my peers ignored me or made fun of me. In high school, I realized that, although I had friends, I was still sort of excluded from their personal worlds, the lives they had shared together before they knew me. Batman understands that. Batman doesn't get close to anyone and when he does, he usually wishes he hadn't.

2) He's dark. He lurks in the shadows and sneaks around finding things out about people. He makes it his business to know what's going on. I've always been the kind of person who knows what's happening around me without having to be told. Batman can put pieces together quickly and know things that others haven't told him. He likes to surprise people with what he knows, and use it as a weapon against them. I like that about him. It always brings me great pleasure when someone looks at me and says, "How did you know that!?" I think it gives Batman pleasure too.

3) He's misunderstood and intensely lonely. I don't feel that way as often anymore, but I did when I was falling in love with Batman.

4) He has a dry, dry, dry sense of humor. Enough said.

5) He's freaking smart. I'm not freaking smart, but I like people who are and I always have.

6) He's great at everything I wish I were. Ninja skills, computer hacking skills...

7) He's mysterious.

8) He has a great understanding of human nature.

9) He's always one or two or three steps ahead of everyone, even his "colleagues".

10) He looks really good in spandex.

Those are just the reasons I've though of. I'm sure there are better ones, if I psychoanalysed myself. It's not that I am so much like Batman that I have to relate with him. Granted, there are more admirable super heroes. There are definately ones with more integrity and honor. I like them too. It's just that Batman stands out to me more than anyone else.

The Need

There's a lot going on here as people start to clean out their houses and throw away things they cherish. I had a taste of it when we had to squish down all of the cardboard blocks that we got as kids. We were poor, and they were a Christmas present from someone (I think). We spent all day putting them together and we played with them a lot. We used them to make houses for our little people and Barbie dolls. Now they're in the trash on the road side.

It's not that they're valuable. They're just things. And it's a small thing (there were many others that we had to make decisions to throw away), but it made a little part of me sore and sympathetic for the people just a few houses down who are throwing out photo albums, saved birthday cards and letters, treasured gifts from relatives and so much more.

Emails keep coming about who we can help and how badly they need it. And I'm stuck at home not able to help so very much with much of anything. Even if I gave all I am, it wouldn't be enough. Even if everyone I knew gave what they had, it wouldn't fix much. It's overwhelming.

The need is overwhelming. I wonder if this is a little bit how Jesus felt when he sat outside the gates of Jerusalem, crying. So many people to save, to help. So many lost and hurting hearts. And yet his ached too, knowing what human suffering was ahead for him as well. Please pray for Iowa.

Floods

Well, for those of you who aren't in this area and haven't seen the news, I've been in the midst of some major flooding this last week. Lots of folks are asking how it's going, if we flooded, etc so I thought I'd just write one update and hope that answers the questions.

A) Our house is not flooded, or anywhere near flooding
B) My parent's house was in the flood plain, but missed the waters by maybe 50 feet.
C) My parents are not in the country, so we (my sister, my husband and I) have been responsible to get it cleaned up and taken care of.
D) The last week went something as follows:

Mon-Tues: My cousins were visiting. We had a grand time.

Wed- Parents leave for trip, cousins leave, sister leaves for a day trip to Chicago. We were worried a little about the flood, but the predictions kept it pretty far away from the house. By night time, they'd put out a map of the expanded evacuation area, and my parent's house was in it. We put bags over the drain and pulled stuff off the basement floor just in case.

Thurs - Watching the flood levels very closely. The edge of the water is two or three blocks away. It's raining and storming all day. Roads are beginning to close. Including major highways and roads through town. Water shortage began in town. Rain still pouring. Daniel and a friend set up emergency communication tower for the police, who had relocated because of the flood. I attempted to get more sandbags to use at the house, but got stuck in traffic as they were shutting down so many roads due to flash floods and the real flood.
In the evening, we got a new surprise. They'd predicted a 24 ft. crest, but they changed that to 32 ft. Daniel and a group of random others went to the house and hauled up as much as they could from the basement before curfew.

Friday - Took showers at the farm to conserve water in town. Daniel went in and discovered 3 ft of water in the basement. They got to work making pumps, but there was no power so we had to have generators. I stayed at the farm with my father-in-law to wait till he had the RV's generator fixed and his pumps ready to go. What normally takes twenty minutes to drive into town took more than an hour because traffic was backed up on all of the highways and the only exit roads. It took most of the day to get the pumps going, and I didn't really do much. Some of them worked sometimes, but then my father-in-law went and got two submerging pumps and they worked really well.

Saturday - Finished pumping the water out of the basement and started using squeegees to get the rest of them.

Sunday - Took a little bit of a break, but still went and did some clean-up. Set up fans to dry things.

Monday - My wonderful husband worked for several hours, visiting different offices and officials to get the power turned back on to the house.

Tuesday - Some of my sister's friends and some random Mormons in the neighborhood bleached and cleaned a lot in the basement.

Today - Sorted through all of the things that had gotten wet. Set them on the road side or in the garage to see what the parents wanted to keep. It's mostly all done now.

Lots of people offered to help and get stuff done. Tons of folks from church put in time helping moving things, mostly my sister's friends. They did an amazing job helping out with everything. Now we'll mostly have to let my parents figure the rest out, I think. When I called the insurance guy, he said they weren't covered for ground water, but I feel like that was inconclusive. So... yeah. I guess that's about all. In town, they've moved the barricades down as they check blocks for the house safety. It was at the end of our block, but today it's seven blocks further down. People are emptying their houses, and it's a sad sight. But there is some strange hope in starting over, as well. At least I think so. Anyway, that's that update. I'll write more about other more interesting things some time soon.

Great and Precious Promises

I'm finding my creativity is stifled right now. I don't enjoy times like this. I've been editing stories for a while, and just not full of new ideas at all. The poetry is missing.
I've started a study on First Peter with my small group. I really love First Peter, mostly because it's so straight forward and full of promises and words of encouragement that are easily applied to life today.
The memory verse this week was 1 Peter 1:3 - Praise be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. In HIs great mercy, he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead.
I liked the idea of living hope. Not hope like "I hope it will snow", but Hope that lives and moves in us and takes us to the throne of God, where He hears our cries and assures us with his great and precious promises--assurance that will never "perish, spoil or fade, kept in heaven for us". I find that very comforting these days.
That's all for now. Except for a note to the friend who asked me to write about witnessing in mainstream churches: I'm still thinking on it, but I'll write something eventually.

The Perfect Storm

Mother's Day
Child dedications
Grace's due date.

I'm glad yesterday is over, although Daniel did make it nice. He took me to get tea at Panera when I left the church service, and then we ate in the Amanas with my family. Then we came home and I took a nap and we had a nice relaxing evening together. I really love him.

In Your Presence

some raw thoughts. This is not an easy time for me and Daniel. It's been harder than I imagined, and in some ways even harder than the days of the stillbirth. I ache all over.
We went to the hospital to visit our friends who'd just had their baby. It's strange how joy and happiness can intertwine so easily with sorrow. How we can be happy and glad for our friends, but at the same time, still mourning. There were three babies born this week alone. And it's not the baby part that's hard. It's just that they make me realize how empty it is inside of me.
"Somewhere, between these ins and these outs, there's a fine line of purpose, I follow even now. Through the haze of despair, that confuses and hurts us, i look to see that you're there, and I run toward your light. Somewhere, beyond these reasons and feelings, somewhere beyond the passion and fatigue, I know you're there, and that your spirit is leading me, somewhere beyond all this." (Timeless Rich Mullins. "Somewhere")
I wrote some poems. It's been hard to get them out the way I like them to sound, but this is what I've come up with.

To know Him

Spring time—new life
And I’m looking for a place to hide
Somewhere dark
Where the nagging nightmares will be hard to see
Somewhere that this can all just disappear
There is no solitude, no recourse
But in the darkness a whisper
saying commune with me
know me in my death and in my suffering

Rock of ages

Rock of Ages,
Hide me here
Amidst the blossoms and newborns
in your light and truth
In your presence, finding fullness of joy
let me see further on
where the wounds have healed
and left scars to remind me
of the beauty in You and your perfect plans

In my CD Player, my Head and my Heart

This song has been going all week for me. It's comforting and challenging all at once. You can listen to it for free by clicking on play here. I like it because right now I'd rather be hiding out while the battles go on around me and in my mind. I just bought this CD, so the timing is great.

Strap My Hat On by Mitch McVicker

I'm not scared if the monster comes to drag me under
I'll stay right here no i won't turn gone
I won't wonder
I don't care about no weather front if I hear thunder
groan
it will overblow.

Every time arrows fill my fragile skies
veiled behind neon flash disguises
love will rise to my defense
so I strap my hat on
and I lift my eyes when my king goes by
I'm gonna strap my hat on.

The needle's flat but the gage it laughs
a melody in my weakness
I am pushed from stance to heights unseen
till I'm back agin where my armor friend
is cushion peace to get me through
the song rings true...

Mitch

"Quality in art, music, and literature is related tothe passion, excellence, and message it communicates; the honesty and success of the artist's attempts to reconcile the lower story of human experience (pain, doubt, fear, failure, joy, faith, love, success) with the upper story of the divine."
--My dad's facebook profile

I went to a concert with my brother tonight. It was really good. Not because it was fantastic and full of energetic fans. I think half of the audience were kids. There were a lot of kids there. thirty adults maybe. Maybe forty. Not a ton. Two guys on stage. Four guitars, one ukelalie, a couple of bass and rhythm instruments. Good folk-like pop music. Amazing message in the music.

Amazing musician. He wasn't out to impress people or make a statement or get a mass of adoring fans in his following. He wore dirty jeans that were torn, and a tee-shirt with a jacket over it. And socks. One white, one black. I don't know why. He was very unpolished. He did strange things with his recording thingy. He went ahead and sang even though he knew his guitar wasn't quite in tune. And he smiled and grinned through the concert, and afterwards when he stood around and talked with us.

His name is Mitch McVicker. The name might be familiar to some people who know Rich Mullins' music. They were good friends, roommates and musician friends. Mitch was with Rich when he died. I'm not a crazed fan of Rich Mullins, but I've always appreciated him and what he had to say. I appreciate Mitch McVicker and what he has to say too. Check him out. You'll be glad you did.

Toy Recalls

I just got a notice from one of the stores I frequent, informing me of a toy recall. It wasn't something I'd purchased, but, yet again, too much lead in the paint.

It just goes to prove, it's safer and cheaper to let your kids play with crap laying around the house than it is to buy them crap from a store.

Of course, there are always paint chips and window sills to worry about...

Hardened

I've been thinking about many things, but so rarely have time to sit down at my computer and write them all out, although I truly wish I could and would more often. Life has calmed down for me, but there are of course always new challenges. I've noticed how sensitive my soul has become since the loss of my baby.

I've always considered myself a thick-skinned person... insensitive, almost. I wanted to think I was caring, but I often had to force myself to really care about things that affected others so deeply. I remember in youth group when one of the adult leaders passed away, how... hard I felt. I thought it was a strength, so I could be a support to my friends and see a different perspective. But deep down I think I've always known that hardness isn't the most desired trait a person can possess. It often comes from painful experiences and relationships. I've never been very emotional, so it's been easy to mistake that personality trait with my hardness.

There have been some times when I've realized how callused I am. And I haven't ever known how to change it. I didn't necessarily want to be that way, but it has worked for me. It's been OK. But OK isn't always really OK. And hardness certainly isn't OK for someone who wants the love of Christ to live and move in her life. When you're hard, you don't notice softer things. You don't feel the gentle tugs for compassion and goodness that pull at your heart. You might conciously see something happening, but it doesn't affect you, even when you want it to. And that's what I've been like for so many years.

I remembered recently that before this recent trial, I prayed that God would break me. I can't remember the thought process behind it, but I remember thinking about the hardness I have, and how it was making certain parts of my life difficult. I realized that the combination of hardness and being unemotional wasn't working, that it was making me proud. So I asked God to break me.

I don't know if it was all working together or not, and I certainly don't think God let this happen for that specific reason. But, nonetheless I am finding that these experiences have torn away a layer of stone that sheltered my heart. I think it's been good. It's let me share in others' pain in a way I never used to be able to. It's allowed me to cry over small things and big things, and not feel like I need to hide. It's made me stronger, and it's given me a fellowship with God's heart that I never knew was possible. There's a newness in beauty and innocence and love now, and I think, despite what my training and instincts tell me, I want to embrace it and know softness again.

Things too Wonderful

"I know that You can do everything, and that no purpose of yours can be withheld from You. You asked, 'who is this who hides counsel without knowledge?' Therefore I have uttered what I did not understand, Things too wonderful for me, which I did not know."
JOb 42:2-3

Do me a favor. When something bad happens to someone, don't tell them, in the midst of their grief or the aftermath of it "God just had something better". It puts that person in an awkward position. It doesn't make the pain go away.

I've had a lot of well-meaning people (bless their hearts) say that to me in the last week or two. It really grates against me. Because I know the whole Romans 8:28 thing that God causes all things to work together for the good of those who love Him, but at the same time, I find the "God had something better" to be incomplete theology. Because it doesn't say He works things together for the better of those who love Him. And this world is so broken that you can't guarantee better. At least not by our standards. Of course by His standards and His ultimate purpose and His sovereignty, there is always better. But right now when someone says that, I just think, "what would better be for me? Better than what? Better than my baby girl?" I mostly just nod my head when people say that. It grates against me wrong. I don't think that He let my baby die because He had something better in store (at least not for me). It doesn't comfort me. It makes me restless. It makes me want to argue with them.

I believe that He has other things, wonderful things, in store for us. And I believe that He will accomplish His good pleasure. I believe that He's good and right and just and loving. But I don't believe He intended the world to be like this, so broken and hard. I certainly don't believe
He lets bad things happen to people for the purpose of something "better". I think it hurts HIm just as much as it hurts us and probably more. But still the same, He does let bad things happen, and it's a hard thing to accept. We comfort ourselves by saying His purposes will be accomplished and all of the other Christianese jargon people say. And I know it's true if it's in the Bible. But He didn't create the world to be this way. Sin creates an absense of goodness and sin breaks and twists what God made to be good.

Still you can't help but fight through all of the questions it raises. But I've fought through them before this, when my life was at peace and I just couldn't help but wonder. And I don't have great answers but I can take comfort in believing that He does have a plan, and He does watch what's happening and is intricately involved in what goes on in my life. And he cares about the little birds that fall from the sky, and counts how many hairs are on my head. And He does have good things to accomplish and work together for and in me.

But don't say "God had something better". God has something better. God uses bad things to work together for the good of those who love Him. And I don't mind keeping my faith stocked in Someone who can promise to use whatever bad things happen for His glory, and for my good. I find Him to be my solid rock and all other ground to be shifting sand. Even if I never see "better", I know He is accomplishing even things too wonderful for me to understand. And I am privileged to get a glimpse of any of them.

[editor's note: I write this today, after struggling through two really hard days this week. I don't want people to think I'm really strong and things aren't bothering me. I'm holding together but it's because of God's grace and your prayers, not because of me. I really need your prayers right now.]

All the Way

All the way my savior leads me
and he cheers each winding path I tread
gives me strength for every trial
and feeds me with the living bread
though my weary steps may falter
and my soul a-thirst may be
gushing from a rock before me
Lo! a spring of joy I see

~ Fanny Crosby "All the Way my Savior Leads me"

That isn't just a song today. It's a description of exactly how I feel, and exactly what God does. I guess Fanny wrote this after she'd been struggling financially, and a man on the street came and offered her $5, the exact amount she needed. I think 2nd Peter 1:3 applies nicely.
His divine power has given us everything we need for life and godliness according to our knowledge of Him who called us according to his own goodness and grace.

Factor V Leiden

My doctor called yesterday with some news. First he asked how I was doing and some other things, and then he explained that he hadn't called earlier because there hadn't been any substantial results from any of the tests. The autopsy was normal. The blood cultures on the placenta were normal. Basically everything had come back negative except for one thing. He said that it's a fairly common problem and one major side effect are miscarriages and stillbirths. It's called Factor V (five) Leiden, and it causes the blood to clot easily. Basically it means that when the blood cells replicate, one of them mutates (some people have both mutate, but in my case it's only one). It's a genetic trait that gets passed on from one parent.

There are still some more tests that haven't come back yet, so this isn't the final word, but the doctor was guessing that I got a blood clot in the placenta or umbilical cord. There could be something else also, and I guess you never really know for sure. What it means for me is that if I get pregnant again, I'll have to be on blood thinners during my pregnancy. That's about all that I know right now and I guess that's all I have to say also. Except thanks to all of the people who have sent cards and brought meals. it has made our lives much easier and we have felt so cared for.

The Dark Night of the Soul

Sometimes my life just don't make sense at all
when the mountains look so big
but my faith just seems so small
so hold me Jesus
cuz I'm shaking like a leaf
you have been King of my glory
won't you be my Prince of Peace?

-"hold me Jesus" Rich Mullins

It's been a week and two days since everything happened. Physically, I feel a lot better. My back hurts a lot, but otherwise I'm mostly OK (with the help of ibuprofen). We have been so blessed by all of the emails and cards and meals we've gotten. Some people wait their whole lives looking for friends that will be there like so many of you have. I can't say thank you enough or in the right way to express how thankful I am. I do hope that you'll continue praying, because things aren't really getting easier yet. A lot of people have said they get worse before they get better. I hope that isn't true.

People ask how we're doing, and I don't know how to answer because so many things are fine. I don't really know how to explain what it feels like. You kind of live on two levels. There's the normal everyday life that continues to roll around you and take you with it, but then there's the pain that lingers under the surface and struggles to keep you remembering, even when you'd rather not. And most of the day things just go on as normal, but then it gets quiet and you're all alone for a few minutes, and there's nothing to distract you so you start thinking about it, replaying it all in your mind, asking the same questions over and over, and wishing that it some how didn't hurt so much. And when the two levels meet each other, you end up crying because you bit your tongue or dropped your bagel in the dirt.

Last night we went on a date, and Daniel told me he felt feelings for me that he hadn't in a long time. I told him when we went to bed that i felt like I'd fallen in love with him all over again. He's soooo wonderful.

I had some time to myself on Tuesday to finally write in my journal and sort things out a little. It was really nice to sit there in the coffee house and think. I'm an introvert, and with all of the support we've been having from others, I haven't processed some things. That gave me a good chance to do it. I'll share a few of the thoughts I had, and then I'll stop writing because this is already pretty long.

I've heard about the dark night of the soul, where your doubts and circumstances cause so much duress that your faith comes up against a wall. I have been there before a couple of times, sitting alone in my room and wondering why I believe in God, if it's all true or if it's just the most logical of religions and in the end they're all lies. Asking questions that don't have good clear answers, and doubting that I'd believe the answers even if I knew. It's a scary place to be in when what you've based your life on suddenly feels unreal and untrue.

I've been waiting for that to happen since this all came out, but so far it hasn't. The opposite has, and I believe that's due to your prayers and the goodness of God. I've seen His hand with every step. I feel held and carried by Him. There have been so many little things that I can attribute to Him. And the fact that I can give Him credit for them makes me glad. Because I know my personality and how my mind works, and how the shadows creep in when I let my guard down. Not that doubting is wrong. But we're blessed when we can not see and still believe. And I guess that's what's been happening, because I do feel blessed and so taken care of. Despite it all.

I still lie awake at night and try to comfort myself, but the comfort that comes is outside of myself. It's the peace that passes understanding, and it's guarding my heart and mind.

... And the things you never thought you'd have to deal with.

This is what it means to be held.
How it feels when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive.
This is what it is to be loved.
And to know that the promise was
When everything fell we'd be held.
"Held" by Natalie Grant

I don't really know how to write this. I'd like to be poetic and profound, but I don't want to exert the energy doing that so I guess I'll just be raw.

On Monday morning I called the doctor because I'd missed my appointment on Friday. I hadn't felt the baby move in a few days, and I was starting to get worried. They called back and had me come in to have an ultrasound (which I'd needed anyway). Everything went like normal, except the technician didn't stop to take any pictures. Then she said, "I'm not finding a heartbeat here either. I'm going to have the doctor take a look." A few minutes later, they escorted me to one of the patient's rooms and I called Daniel to come down.
I'd prayed for peace that morning. I'd been so worried that something was wrong, but in pregnancy, most of your worries end up being nothing, and we all know it doesn't help to worry. So in the shower that morning, I stopped myself from all of the crying (hormones) and prayed that God would give me peace. Then I corrected myself and prayed that God would BE my Peace. And He was. And He has been through everything that's happened, so I'm thankful that He answered that first prayer of mine and gave me that assurance that He is here.
So anyway, the doctor came in when Daniel got there and explained some things. It was a still born baby. There were some deformations, but they didn't really know what had happened yet. We needed to have labor induced, so we decided to do it right away. My mom had Arlene and was planning to watch her as long as she needed to, so we went down to the hospital and got started.
My mother-in-law stopped in later that day. Pat from church did too, to do all of the official pastoral care. It was nice, but we requested no other visitors because we didn't know what state things would be in.
It took seventeen hours of labor before I delivered, but the delivery was pretty fast. I didn't get my epidural in time. I started needing to push before he'd gotten the doses in, so it didn't really take effect until after the baby was born. But it went pretty well, all things considered.
It was a girl. We named her Grace. Since she was more than 20 weeks the state considers her a person, so we had the option of sitting with her or whatever, but we opted not to see her. It's hard to explain all of the reasons and thoughts behind our decisions, but thankfully we just agreed on everything without having to really discuss it with each other.
I couldn't eat until after I'd delivered the placenta and they'd done an ultrasound to make sure there were no remnants, so that took another four hours. Then we ate a big meal and took care of some logistics at the hospital and we came home.
It was zero degrees with 45mph gusts of wind when we came home. We got inside and found three bouquets of flowers and a lot of food. Someone had picked up the house and done dishes too. (Thanks family).
we're doing pretty well. Lots of people have offered to bring meals and help however they can, and I am so grateful. I don't really know what the next few weeks are going to be like. So far it feels like typical grief. I will probably want some company during the day and maybe people to watch Arlene or help me with some house work. I'm not supposed to do anything strenuous for a few weeks.
I don't know what else to say, I guess. Thanks to everyone who's been helping make this easier on us. I know it's hard to know what to say or do. Just know you don't actually have to say or do anything. Prayers have been helping a lot. I know. Knowing that people care about us has made me so thankful for the family of God, and for our families here.
I think that's all for now. If you'd like to help with something, I'd prefer the e-mail contact method over phone, because I'm having a hard time making decisions right now. Thanks to everyone for caring so much. I never thought I'd be in this position.
But my life has been so easy, in some ways, I've been waiting for the bomb to drop. It hasn't been as terrible as I thought it would be, but it has been terrible.

Winter Blues... Thankful list

Last night I was wishing that I were a missionary just so I could send out update letters with things I'm thankful about. But since I'm not a missionary and won't be for a long time if ever, I guess I'll just have to use my blog.
I've been feeling sort of depressed lately, and you're supposed to start being thankful when you're feeling sorry for yourself, so I am going to make a short list of things I'm thankful for. It's probably really boring, so you don't have to read it. But I want to write it. :o)

My french horn which I got as a Christmas present
writer's group
Arlene and all of her cute smiles and hugs
Daniel, the love of my life who becomes more wonderful with every passing day (and I'm not just saying that because I'm a romantic. Because I'm not).
Valentines
my laptop
My small group and the book we're reading about faith
e-mail because otherwise I wouldn't have any friends
my cousins who are all actually pretty cool
panara, brewed awakenings and Breugers
that my brother and sister are in town right now

Christmastime

So, since it's a week before Christmas, I've been doing what I can to get into "the spirit" of things. I have a few other things weighing on my mind, so it hasn't been easy (and I don't suppose it ever is).
We watched part of The Nativity Story in our adult Bible fellowship yesterday. I've kind of wanted to watch it, but it totally surpassed any of my expectations. Granted, I was sort of expecting it to be another mediocre Christian attempt, and some kind of fad that people felt the need to support and like. But watching it pushed my cynicism aside. I liked it. a lot. So... yeah. It got me to thinking about a lot of things. I've always been kind of fascinated with the Magi (wise men) and the missing pieces in the story about why they came to see Jesus and their journey. I don't suppose we'll ever have all of the story while we're here on earth, but it's interesting to think about. Wouldn't it be cool if they're in heaven, because they understood that Jesus was the--Their-- Savior? I think that their mysticism might have made it easier for them to believe that Jesus was God. But we'll never really know.
I have this awesome D.H. Lawrence poem about them, but I've already posted that in some blog a couple of years ago. This time I wanted to post the lyrics to a song by Todd Agnew on "Do you See what I See?", which by the way, is an incredible Christmas album that explores the viewpoints of different people involved in the Christmas story. It's worth the buying if you like thinking differently. There are a couple of songs I really love. This one's pretty good, but there are even better ones.
So...

God With Us

We saw a star and followed it from the east
We've come so far to get here
We held one hope that we might find a King
But how could we know that He would be

God with us
Immanuel, come to us
The King of Israel abides with us
In this little boy, who would know we'd find
The Eternal One born into time
This baby child is God with us

We brought Him gold and frankincense and myrrh
When riches untold He left behind
We brought our best to celebrate a King
Who'd left His throne so He could be

God with us
Immanuel, come to us
THe King of Israel abides with us
In this little boy, who could know we'd fine
Mortal and mystery somehow intertwined
The baby child is God with us

It's a Gift... and a Curse

If you've ever watched USA's show "Monk" you've heard the main detective repeat a phrase, when referring to his wonderful photographic memory and/or ability to remember strange details that seemingly have nothing to do with anything. Someone inevitably says, "Wow, that's amazing! How do you do that?" And he replies, "It's a gift... and a curse."

I've been saying that phrase a lot lately, because I have, by comparative standards, a pretty darn good memory. And I remember random things that I shouldn't, like what clothes someone was wearing the time I met their fiancee's brother's girlfriend. And because I can remember random things like that, I guess it goes without saying that I also remember important things. Sometimes I can repeat a conversation verbatim. And I'm not saying all of this to brag, but actually to complain, because more often than not, I'm frustrated with my memory. It's great when I can remember when something happened or who said what or some important story that someone told me. It really is a gift that we can remember great times with people, and for me it's even better that I can remember so many details from those experiences. But what's frustrating is when I'm the only person who remembers it. I find myself getting extremely bored in conversations with some people, because they repeat themselves. A lot. They tell the same stories every time I'm with them, and I remember them. Every stinking detail. In fact, I correct people in their own stories sometimes because apparently I remembered the details better than they did. It's overly frustrating for me when I talk to someone and they ask me questions that they asked in the last conversation, as if they never asked them. Grrr.

That is why it's a curse. It's also a curse because it makes it a lot harder to forget painful things. I guess a lot of people don't remember everything that happens to them, or everything a person says. The sad thing for me is when someone hurts me, they hardly ever remember the experience if I bring it up. And then I wonder if I should have brought it up at all. I suppose most people remember getting hurt.

It bruises your soul and those bruises stay around for a while. But what does that mean for someone who doesn't easily forget? We talked about this in my adult bible community on Sunday. Our teacher was talking about demonstrating the love that's poetically examined in First Corinthians 13. Love is patient, love is kind... love does not keep a record of wrong... She said that that means you have to decide you're going to forget. You can't just decide to do that if pain is still tearing at you, so first you have to deal with it. And then you decide to forget. Maybe you can't forget forget, but you can choose not to dwell on your hurts. She said that remembering it is a way of controlling your situation and holding the pain against a person.

And I do that. It's not always because I want to. Most of the time, I'd much rather just forget all of those hurtful experiences and move on in a relationship. But when I can remember, I feel justified in whatever feelings I have toward them. And I feel like I'm doing an act of mercy by remaining their friend or choosing to love them. but that isn't how God's love works, I guess.
i wish things like this were easier to figure out.

Obligations

Sometimes I wonder what things people say because they think they’re supposed to, when really they don’t even know what they’re talking about.

Around this part of the country, it seems that a lot of people (mainly old folks) talk about the weather like it’s a serious subject. And, when it rains, inevitably someone says, “Boy it’s good it’s raining. We really needed it.” It doest seem to matter if it’s been raining cats and dogs for the last seventeen days, we sure needed this rain. It doesn’t matter if the crops are drowning because the ground is saturated. We needed that rain.

I wonder if the people who say that are in frequent contact with farmers who know how much rain we should be getting, or if it’s just something they say because they think it sounds right.

Or like when someone says, “how precious. What a good little girl” when I’m at the store with my baby. How do they know if she’s good or not? Maybe she spent the last fifteen minutes in the car screaming and now she happens to be happy because I opened a box of cookies and gave her one (sometimes that is the case, although she really is a pretty good baby).

Or recently I ran into a lady from church out in public at a restaurant. We were chatting (and I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t have given me the time o’day if I hadn’t been with a friend whom she knew) about church things, and she asked me if I still coordinate child care for the Bible studies. I was surprised she remembered, andsaid I do. Then she says, “Boy that’s such a blessing to us.” And she said it to a couple of other people too. But she’s in her late fifties probably and all of her kids certainly aren’t needing child care (because they’re older than I am). It’s just kind of funny because I wondered if she’d personally been blessed by what I was doing or if she was just saying it because it sounded like the right thing to say.

Even if it’s true, I don’t think that it was a personal experience for her. Don’t get me wrong: I’m not really picking on this particular woman. It was nice of her to remember what I do. But the whole standard of saying things that sound right just because they sound right just bothers me lately. Sometimes, I think, you end up sounding a lot more intelligent and polite if you just keep your mouth shut when you don’t know something.

Rich

"[Ten] years ago today somebody left. Sort of ducked
out the back while we were all busy singing." -tony

I feel like I can call him by his first name even though I never met him and hardly knew him before he passed away. If I were a celebrity, I think I'd want people to still call me Kristin.

Today is the 10th anniversary of the death of Rich Mullins. If you don't know who he is, you're missing out. Look him up. He was a musician. And more than a musician. Probably foremost, he was a writer. He was a teacher, an evangelist, and a follower of God who did radical things and made statements that upset a lot of people.

At least they upset them before he died. Now a lot of folks like to quote him and glorify his words and put him on a pedestal. I don't know if it's only because he died, or if it's because he needed to die in order for people to take the time to look into what he said. There's something so intriguing about dead musicians.

There's something really intriguing about Rich. Because he was so different than everyone you meet. most people like him don't get put in the spotlight. They live their lives in obedience and faithfulness, doing what God called them to do. He just had so much to say about getting close to God and serving and loving. He wasn't always right, and he certainly wasn't PC. But the more I read and listen to him, the more I wonder if I'm serving God like I should be.

BUt sometimes I'm scared of what God calls me to do. I've been studying the book of Luke, and noticing the theme of how Jesus took time to notice the weak, lonely and broken people. It seems that He had a speical place for them. And I feel that the Church has neglected a responsibility to be ministering to the poor and broken. Rich Mullins talked a lot about that. I think I need to do something more. Not sure what, but I'm going to be thinking on it a lot more often.

Anyway, back to Rich. If you aren't tired of reading yet. I want to share everything he did and said with you, but I guess there is no time. And you might not appreciate it like I do. But if you do, there's a link to his articles on the right side of my blog, and 20 the Countdown magazine did a nice tribute to him last weekend, which you can find by scrolling to the bottom of this page.

Some days when I see his words matching exactly what I feel, I really miss him. I can't wait till heaven to see people I respect and admire made whole by God.

So when my body lies in the ruins
of the lies that nearly ruined me
will you pick up the pieces that were pure and true
and breathe your life into them
and set me free
and when you start this world over again from scratch
will you make me new out of the stuff that lasts
and can I be with you?
Can I be with you?
(Rich Mullins/Be with You)

500 Miles

I was in Chicago yesterday to meet up with some internet friends. The only internet friends I have anymore, I guess.
It was good. The conversation wasn't especially deep. We walked to Starbucks so I could get quarters for my parking meter. We ate chicago-style pizza in a booth by Larry Bird's basketball jersey. We talked about college pranks and women in ministry and high school relationships. Reminisced a little.
I wish I were better at talking and being deep. I feel like I'm a really boring person sometimes. I've started to notice that people get tired in my presence.
Anyway. I had a good time, even if my friends didn't. I enjoy them in real life just as much as I do on the internet. And Besides, everyone needs a big bear hug once in a while. Or two.
Some things are worth driving 500 miles for.

It's Loneliness I Need

I wrote this whoel entry in my head last night, but I'm sure I won't remember it as eloquently as I had it yesterday.
I'm up visiting my relatives in Montana this week. We're having a pretty good time. It's a lot different now that I'm married and grown up and the other cousins who are my age aren't around. We still see each other once ina while, but now there are only two cousins living here with my aunt and uncle and grandparents. They're in high school, and being around them reminds me of those days when my perspective was so... different.

"...friendship is not a remedy for loneliness. Loneliness is a part of our experience and if we are looking for relief from loneliness in friendship, we are only going to frustrate the friendship. Friendship, camaraderie, intimacy, all those things and loneliness live together in the same experience." ~Rich Mullins

Recently my friend Amy came over to visit, and some how we got on the topic of youth group and high school, and I told her about how my class in youth group was really cool and was this great group of leaders, but I was never "one of them". We got along. There was a mutual respect and even some rapport from all of the trips we went on together and all of the activities. We all knew each other pretty well.
But they were all friends who shared their lives with each other. Some how, amidst the events I helped plan, leading worship, teaching, and being present at almost every event, I was an outsider. I never felt included. And, even looking back, I'm fairly certain it wasn't just my imagination or me feeling sorry for myself.
It didn't usually bother me, but when they were planning things without including me, or when I showed up at a "friend's" house to give her a birthday card and found that she was having a sleepover, or when they all went to a school dance together and didn't even ask me if I wanted to go, I'd get so frustrated and hurt.
After a particularly hurtful experience, I went home and poured everything out in an e-mail to my mentor friend Brian. We'd talked about it before in different scenarios, and he'd always say he knew what it was like to be accepted but not included. But he would also talk about how loneliness actually stemmed from our relationship with God, or the lack thereof, and how if we weren't walking closely with Him, we'd feel lonely even if we were surrounded by people who loved us.
I think I've seen that pattern to be true. And I've noticed that I can always find a reason to feel alienated and seperate. I think that most of us do that, and i wonder if maybe it's just a way of embodying the emptiness we feel when we aren't close to God. Sure I know Him and trust Him, but walking with Him is something else. Daily getting to know Him better is hard and it's concious, and when I'm not reminding myself to do it, I can find it easy to drift.
And as I drift, I become less content with relationships and more worried about what people think of me and whether or not I'm included.
Maybe this is only something that's true to me. But I do know, no matter where I'm at, that God always understands me and knows me, and wants to include me in His plans and purposes. And when I'm remembering that, it's a lot easier to be less worried about other peoples' parties and lives. And sometimes, it's loneliness that I need to remind me how empty I am without Him.

Posting

I feel like writing a long post about all of the things that have been on my mind lately... but that's what a journal's for, I suppose. I have been thinking about societal expectations and the Church, and being too comfortable. Today I read in Luke chapter 7 the account of the sinful woman anointing Jesus' feet. When Jesus says, "Therefore, her sins, which are many, are forgiven, for she loved much. but to whom little is forgiven, the same loves little", I felt like it was talking about me. The one who loves little. Not that I'm not sinful, and not that I'm not in constant need of God's grace and forgiveness... but I don't think I've experienced it like some have. And I don't know that I ever will experience it in some way. Because I don't really know what it's like to be without God. Certainly there are times when I feel like He isn't listening and isn't there, but I always know He is.
And lately I feel like I love little. I suppose there are ways to change that. And I don't think that those who grow up knowing Christ can't experience the same depth of love that someone who got saved from sex, drugs and alcohol does. But I wonder how I can get from loving little to knowing that intense love and experiencing... more.

The Jesus Box

I don't want to be a cynic
but I've been thinking lately.
Been reading the Gospel of Luke and the stories of Jesus
And I'm starting to wonder:
if I had never met a preacher and never gone to bible school
If I'd never been to church
and been exposed to theology
and doctrine of wise men and scholars
If I'd never watched the Jesus film or seen Him on TV
what kind of Jesus would he be?

Institutions or what?

I went back to a website I used to frequent written by a Christian musician (I stopped frequenting it because I was continually annoyed by what he said). Remembered why I don't go there so often.

Also I came to a conclusion about something that has bothered me for a long time. Something I always want to participate in discussions and arguments over, but can't ever think of the best way to say it. It's the whole stupid Acts 2 argument. That churches aren't doing it right. That we don't have real community and the solution is to stop going to institutionalized church and form your little community in a home church, so that you can really know everyone you worship with.

I suppose there's some validity to that conclusion. It especially works in areas where there is no solid church to attend. But I think that we deprive ourselves of significant growth opportunities by choosing to seclude ourselves because of our disillusionment with stereotypical churches.

And I don't think it has to be one way or the other. I think it should be BOTH. And I know that this isn't brain surgery and lots of people have said it, but I've leaned more toward the traditional church practice and away from "home churches" or "small groups" or "upper room" environments.

Both have something to offer, though. And both should be part of our daily lives. Because the people in Acts devoted themselves to the apostles' teaching AND to the breaking of bread. And they met in the temple courts AND they broke bread in their homes and ate together. (Acts 2:42-47). Most importantly, the Lord added to their number daily those who were being saved.

And that's key, I think. The adding to their numbers. Not for the sake of numbers, but for the sake of GOd and His Name. I really don't think anyone should run away, neglecting the large bodies of churches without a better reason than "there's no community". Because ministry teams, Bible studies, small groups and whatever can and should exist within a church. But they alone cannot offer the same things that an established church with well-equipped staff. (I don't have time to elaborate on that idea, but I'm not just spouting off opinions there. I mean, it is an opinion, but I have some foundations for it as well.)

But maybe I'm just talking.

Technology, friend or foe?

I apologize for the cliche title.

My Space, xanga, Facebook, Blogger, Juno, Gmail, lycosmail. I have an account with each of these. And I still can't figure out how to manage most of them. My junk mail lycos account finally probably shut down. I only made it so my academic decathlon coach wouldn't know my real address, and then I kept using it for internet things that ask for your address.
I have no idea how to use facebook or myspace really. And I have no desire to learn. I do what I can when I have time, but I honestly don't care about them. It's just that all of my cousins have myspace accounts, as well as a couple of friends from high school.
And I actually kind of like xanga better than other things, even though it's behind. Even though it was kind of the first thing. I always seem to jump on board right away, and then everyone else goes in new directions just when I'm starting to like where I'm at.
I remember my first e-mail account. It was with AOL before 4 million people had aol accounts. Me and my high school friends would e-mail each other because we all ahd e-mail. But most people didn't until the next year.
I like being able to stay in touch with friends who move away. But I feel like all of these things leave me lacking. I can read what other people think, but in order to give a really good response, I feel like I'd need to be sitting across from them at a coffee house face-to-face. I can read stuff that my kids write online and be deeply offended and bothered by them, but they feel invincible online and if you call them out on it, they like to pretend like it's not the real world.
And I wonder if it is.
Not to hack to death an old subject, but I'm starting to feel like these online communities are worse for us than they are good. As an "adult", I've really appreciated how I can use them to stay in contact. But some of the people I knew in high school would probably rather not be found by me. And I wish I hadn't found some of them, too. Because then I could go on thinking that they just lost touch, not that they stopped wanting to be in touch (which is the case in some of my relationships, but not all).
BUt seriously. I really wonder if high schoolers have too much of their lives invested in these things. If maybe there wouldn't be as many misunderstandings and fights if they didn't exist. Or if they were used in proportion.

And another problem I have is that I really don't have time for even one blog, let alone two or three and all of the comments and ebullitions that go along with them. And uploading pictures and whatever. I just get tired of it, but I feel chained to them because if I stop using them, I'll lose contact with my friends. I don't feel like it should be that way. I feel like my friends should be willing to stay in contact without internet technology (email excluded). Phones still exsist. So do phone books. And I live in the same city I have all my life, so I don't know why it's so hard for people to find me. Blah. I'd better stop because I'm getting grumpy. ANd so is my baby.

Ten Years Ago

Ten years ago, I was in the middle of the worst year of my life. Not only was I losing the friends I'd always known, I was also doing very poorly in math, felt like a misfit everywhere I went, and was in the middle of a spiritual crisis. My family had just left the church I'd grown up in. We left on bad terms, due to differences in theology. We were asked to leave. but I still think we were the ones who were right. And now I'm glad we did leave, but then it didn't look so good.
Things were happening that didn't make any sense. I was hurt, and I had a lot of questions. Like how could a church be so mean? Why did Christians hurt us so much? If that was where I'd learned all about God, what if everything I knew is wrong? What was I supposed to do to stop my friends from following bad doctrine? How could I follow God when everything looked so hopeless?
I couldn't necessarily articulate everything I was feeling, but looking back, I see that I was crushed. Everything I'd found security in was shaken, including my family. We were like church refugees, and we all had different questions and concerns that we were wrestling with. I am so thankful for Brian, my internet friend, who was stable and supportive when I was so confused.

Ten years ago, I visited a new church with my family. When we came in the doors, a red-haired man greeted us with a friendly smile. He led us through the donut line and to one of the front rows of the sanctuary, which was a bunch of chairs lined up in an old elementary school gym. He talked to my dad and told him about his family. "Six boys. I could like that," I joked to my brother.
I didn't realize that I was going to like that. In fact, I was going to fall deeply in love with one of them only a few years later. And marry him.

I didn't realize a lot of things then, because I was lonely and hurt. My faith in God was weak, my family members were dealing with their own problems in their own ways (because that's what we're like), and my broken relationships left me fearful that even the ones I cherished the most were only temporary. I didn't realize that God was involved with every event of that time, and that He was working in my heart to teach me to love him and serve Him better. I didn't realize that healing would come. I didn't even realize then how bitterness was taking hold in my heart and would eat at me for years to follow.
What I did understand, though, was that day, I felt like I was in a place I could start to like. I met one of the sons of the guy who had introduced himself to us. He sat with me and my brother and talked about the youth group and life. At least two other people greeted us happily. I liked this church. And I remember feeling so relieved that there was a chance to fit in among God's people again.
In so many ways, God restored to me the years the locusts ate. I thought I fit in at my old youth group, but it was never anything like this new church. I met one of my closest friends on the first day there (although we didn't really become close friends for several more years), and built countless other deep solid friendships that sustained me through high school and college. I met my husband and his fantastic family. I got to know a youth pastor who changed my life by the things he said to me personally and to the youth group. I had a chance to lead worship and be involved in so many ways. I was accepted and included. It was so amazing.

Now when I look back at that time, I'm so happy it happened like it did. There are a lot of things I wish had happened differently. but I've been contemplative lately, and I've realized that sometimes in order for God to do big things, we have to let go of the things we're familiar with.
Sometimes we can do it on our own, but sometimes it has to be torn from us against our will. And then I guess, it's just my job to be open for new things and let God keep doing His work.

Concerns about New Age and the Church

Have you ever felt overwhelmed by the status of the Church? Or the world? I often do, but I try not to think about it so much and do what I can about the little things. But once in a while, there are things i can't push aside, things that shouldn't be ignored or blown off. And, little or big, I can't sit around and watch them without saying something.

Like yoga. I felt bad at my Bible study last week when I made a comment that I didn't think we should be doing yoga. My friends seemed to think I was going off the deep end. And I really did feel bad for offending them if I did, and for saying what I did. But at the same time, I believe it's truth, and I'm honestly afraid not to speak the truth about the New Age, because I see it seeping into the Church so often. And it worries me that many will be led astray like in 2 Timothy chapter 4.

Then I got to thinking about Yoga, and why Christians practice it. And it worries me that so many people are willing to just do whatever as long as it doesn't pose a direct threat or send up immediate red flags. I feel as if many Christians aren't taking time to actually think and research, pray and be taught about the practices they keep. Maybe they aren't all as godly as they sound. Maybe they aren't biblical.

So let me take a minute to educate my readers on Yoga. It's a part of the Hindu religion, a practice used to unite your soul with the Greater Soul of the universe, to allow you to meditate without the distraction of physical pain or constraints. The positions ("stretches") are each designed with a specific purpose to accomplish that goal. In this article, I read that Hindus are actually bothered by Christians practicing yoga and claiming they can use it as a Christian exersize. One Swami said that the idea of yoga as exersize is like calling Baptism underwater aerobics. It simply wasn't meant to be used that way--it was meant as a spiritual endeavor. If I were to ask everyone in my bible study to keel toward Mecca and pray to Allah, they would say I was insane. If I were to say "In the spirit of the Muslims who look toward Mecca and pray five times a day, I think that we should maybe try doing that this week. I think it would connect us with God", I think my friends would tell me I'm insane. But the same kind of attitude is used in practicing yoga. When I hear "I want to do a yoga class" I really hear, "Let's go do stretches that were designed to connect us with an ungodly spirit". With or without the actual meditation part, we are still emulating a religion that we claim to be seperate from.

I probably do sound like a fanatic. But I just get nervous when I see people taking part in New Age practices and claiming that it is part of their walk with God. I know that many people say that to them, yoga is just a form of exersize, but I take issue with that. Because no Hindu will tell you that their yoga is just exersize. And the yoga taught in America today is modeled right after the Hindu practice.

If we state that GOd is original, and Christianity is unique from hindu, Islam, Judeaism, etc, then why are we borrowing practices from those religions? Why would we want to take part in something that came from a stated foe of Christianity? We do not believe that "all paths lead to God" or that "Everything has some part of God in it". We do not believe that practices are what unite us with God, but rather that it is His grace alone, through Christ's sacrifice for us on the cross. While exersize in and of itself is beneficial, I wonder why we have such trouble handling our stress, when Jesus told us to come to Him with our burdens (Matthew 11:28), and to cast our anxiety on Him because He cares for us (2 Peter 5:7). That said, I'm not sure that we need yoga to relax ourselves. And I have dealt with my share of stress. I think that we're depriving oruselves of a chance to know God better and trust Him more wholly when we decide to use New Age methods to calm our anxiety instead of the old fashioned prayer and patience.

I don't like arguing with people, and I don't like having to defend myself when it's something, to me, that anyone should see as a problem. New Age practices have no place in the church. God is original. God speaks to us in these last days through His Son (Hebrews 1:2), and the God-breathed scripture (1 Timothy 3:16-17). He has given us everything we need for life and godliness through our knowledge of Christ (2 Peter 1:3), and we are complete, thoroghly equipped for every good work (1 Tim 3:17) through scripture and Christ.

If you've read this far, I want to encourage you to start looking into practices and teachings that don't align themselves with Scripture. And to familiarize yourself with heretical docterine so that you can be able to discern it. I'm not saying that as a fanatic, but as one who has taken to heart what Ephesians 5:15 and 16 say: See then that you walk carefully, not as fools but as wise, redeeming the time, because the days are evil. I leave you with this, and hope that you are still my friends.

Colossians 2:8-10 NKJV
Beware lest anyone cheat you throuh philosphy and empty deciet, according to the tradition of men, according to the basic principles of the world, and not according to Christ. For in Him dwells all the fullness of the Godhead bodily; and YOU ARE COMPLETE IN HIM, who is the head of all principality and power.

My 40th Post!

This feels like my forth, but apparently it's my forthieth... or blogger can't count. I didn't spend time looking back, but maybe I should.
Anyway, this is a poem about a certain teenager I know, but it applies to many I've met and talked with. And I don't really know if it's any good, but the one person who I know for sure reads my blog will at least be interested in it.

Something tells me you've spent most of your years
running from things no one should see
and, hiding from the monsters
you fear
to take off your mask and live without lies
It could mean everything you've ever known will vanish

And something tells me
your thoughts are riddled with
confusion and questions
and the pain of saying goodbye
to everything you've believed
and lived that caused you to die
threatens to unravel your new life.

Still you can see Someone moving,
changing your being--forming your heart
and you sense His call
More than just a passing pleasure or a flickering dream
forgotten like the dried leaves of fall
more than the best things you've craved
is His dream for your life and all
you've ever lived to believe in
So don't forget--and don't ever let go
because He's holding you
and it's better to believe in the whisper of hope
than to die in the shriveling thorns.

PDT Eye-Theatre and Generations

I've heard a lot of people lately saying things like, "I'm 25 and accomplished nothing" or "I'm almost thirty and have nothing to show for it". Got me thinking. When does a person need to have accomplished what they're supposed to have accomplished? Why are we so dissatisfied with the things we are accomplishing?

So many of us are saying that we feel like we're still kids, but at the same time we're saying we're getting old.

What is old? Is that when the kids you babysat start graduating from high school? Or the kids down the street talk about things and you have no idea what they're even saying? Or maybe it's when you stop being able to keep up with new developments in technology. I think that people in our grandparents' generation are completely overwhelmed right now because of the changes that happen so fast. They had technology when they were our age, but it didn't develop so quickly. I mean, think about how three years ago hardly anyone had LCD monitors. Now they're making Geordie LeForge goggles you can watch movies on! A forth grader was telling me about them today, and I seriously started wondering if he was trying to pull my leg. And then I thought to myself that maybe I'm old. Not only does the pdt eye theater sound completely useless and unnecessary, it's the kind of thing we imagined when we thought of a hundred years from now... and it's now. Ten years ago, the things we thought were thirty or fifty years in the future are starting to happen now.
I think about my grandparents and the lives they've lived. And now they aren't really able to keep up with technology and society (although my grandma really can hold her own with computers), but something tells me they weren't wondering what they'd accomplished when they were twenty-five. They'd already lived through the darkest period of American history (arguably, but don't argue), and would only live to see more hard times. But I think that their lives were richer then.
Which brings me back to the original question. Why is my generation so dissatisfied with what they are accomplishing? People who are headed up the ladder in their business offices, own their own businesses, have their master's degrees, etc. are wishing that they were married and "settled down". People who have families (and I am included in this often), see their lives and wish that they'd finished college or wonder why they aren't pursuing a career. People who aren't married think they're headed to the reject pile; people who are married think they need kids; and the cycle goes on and on until we're seventy-five and die?
I've never been a believer in that whole carpe diem idea. I believing in looking ahead and behind and being content to live in today expecting the consequences for whatever choices I make. I think that when we can see our current life as part of a lifetime, all of the experiences and relationships now contributing to our futures, it's easier to get a perspective and realize that what we do now is important, not only for ourselves, but for others.
The technology and developments are continually causing us to think forward, and pushing and pulling us toward our uncertain futures. But I think that we need to slow down a little more often and consider the value of whatever position we're in, and enjoy it while we're there.
But I'm just wondering out loud. What do you think?

The Price

Here's a depressing poem I wrote recently, thinking about how people get bored with me after a while, and about the risks it takes to make new friends. I left off the end because I didn't like the way it was written, but it leaves the rest of this sort of unresolved... oh well, I guess it's more poetic that way. Be assured, I'm not really that depressed. It was just one of those times when I was analyzing my life and relationships, and I write poems to figure things out (which I did at the end of the poem that I left off, so I guess you'll all just have to resolve it in your own way).

Somewhere in my memory is the phrase
"I don't want to be your friend anymore"
etched in unspoken forms
like the new group of girls who finally accepted her
or in the college far away
the call to move to central Asia
or marriage vows to a jealous wife
those things that say "I don't like you anymore"--
or worse "I'll always like you but you aren't worth
the time it takes while I pursue my life"
Make the fear that I'll never really fit in
that I'll always be a back-burner friend
a fear that stays and torments me
every time I try again

Every Little Baby

I think that we're supposed to learn things about God by having our own children. since He's our Father, and He treats us like his kids. My youth pastor said something to us like that on Sunday, so I've been thinking about how helpless babies are and how they can't really do anything for themselves.

Arlene needs me to provide for her needs. She might not know that I'm doing it always, and she can';t say thank you or even smile yet. I guess God looks at us that way, even though we don't always recognize that He's the one supplying things, and that without Him we'd be completely helpless. he still loves us and cares for us.

And right now I feel pretty helpless too. This song has been running through my head for the last three weeks every time I start thinking about this subject. It's always been one of my favorites; now it makes even more sense.

Hold On - Twila Paris

Every little baby comes into the world
Reaching for an anchor, fingers tightly curled
Grasping for a reason without knowing why
We will cling to anything 'til the day we die
We can hold on to sorrow, hold on to pain
We can hold on to anger when there is nothing to be gained
We can hold to a thread at the end of a rope
But if we hold on to Jesus we are holding on to hope
Hold on, hold on
This is human nature; this is what He planned
When He put our hearts inside, when He made these hands
We are here to reach for Him, never letting go
This is all we need to have, all we need to know
We can hold on to money, hold on to fame
We can hold on to glory and the honor of a name
We can hold to a thread at the end of a rope
But if we hold on to Jesus we are holding on to hope
Hold on, hold on
Go on hold on, hold on

p.s. that is not Daniel's hand in the picture with arlene; it's Nathan's. He wanted to take a picture of her perfect fist (she has good genes for fighting crime).

The Piano

Somewhere around fifty years ago, my grandparents bought a piano from a family down the road in a little white house with red shutters. They moved it from the wall where it had sat for most of its life, and hauled it four miles home to their tiny farm house so their kids could take piano lessons.

That piano sat in that farm house for forty-some years, probably. Long enough for five kids to take lessons, grow up, have children of their own, and move out of the state. It was played--sometimes well, sometimes poorly. Sometimes it sat for a month without being touched. Other times it was pounded upon by inexpereinced fingers who just wanted to make noise. On occasion, an apt cousin of mine would sit and plunk out "Heart and Soul" or "Chopsticks" some other lame piano lesson song that everyone manages to learn in their lifetime. And once in a while--on specal occasions--someone with a little more musical aptitutude would sit for a moment and play a hymn or two using the old music collection from the piano bench.

Five years ago, my grandparents moved out of their farm house, four miles up the road to "town". Ironically, the house they moved into was the little white house with red shutters--the piano's original home. And in the move, while furniture was all squeezed into new places, the piano found its way back to the same place it had sat fifty years ago. Against the same wall. Same keys, same legs, just a little more worn now. And that tired old piano sits there, while new fingers find their way to its keys and play. Sometimes poorly, sometimes well.

I feel like that piano lately. Like I've spent most of my life being played and learned from, got familiar with that life, and then suddenly, I'm back right where I started more tired and worn than I was to begin with. Backed up against a wall, easily overlooked and used as a shelf instead of what my purpose really is. Seemingly nothing to show for all of the pain and trials, all of the pushing and plunking and playing. BUt maybe, like the piano, there are still new things in store. Sure, there will always be the annoying people who have to sit down and play "Heart and Soul", always litle kids who want to make noise. But maybe there are others waiting to play--others who weren't around when I was first in that starting place.

Two years ago in the middle of a snow storm, a visitor stopped over at the little white house with red shutters. He had just moved into one of the onyl other houses in the town and wanted to come say hi. He'd liked the loook of the open Montana prairie, the quietness of few neighbors. He'd found a little school house for sale in Four Buttes with a trailer beside it. And the school house had its own piano. Turns out, this visitor was a professional musician from Idaho, and he had wanted to find a place to work on his music without being interrupted. Our excited relatives urged him to play for us, so he sat down at the tired piano and plunked out some fantastic ragtime tunes--ones he'd written himself, and other composed ones. songs that no one in our family had the talent to play. Songs that that old piano had probably never heard before. songs that could make the old keys jump and dance. I think if that piano were alive, it would have jiggled across the floor in such excitement, thinking "I've waited my whole life for this!"

So maybe that's why I'm back up against this same wall I started at long ago. Maybe I'll go other places before I make it back here again. But some day, the experience and wear from being played through the years will pay off, and I can be used by a master Musician and dance in glee, singing, "I've waited my whole life for this! This is what I was made for."

The Teflon Conspiracy

Many of you may remember my original rant on conspiracies. I've discovered a new one. Teflon. You've heard the old addage "if nothing sticks to teflon, how does teflon stick to the pan?" The true answers is, actually, it doesn't stick to the pan. If comes off in cancer-causing flakes after a few uses. Even if you're careful to only use nylon spatulas and wash it with the nifty little pampered chef scraper, you'll find that eventually, the resilliant material does not adhere.

The conspiracy? I think that they knew about this when they invnented the first teflon pan. But they decided to do it anyway. They even let the FDA or whoever it was discover the carsinigans present in the chemicals. That way, people who carefully guard their healthy lifestyles and watch for chipping materials will throw out their teflon pans and replace them. At least for a few years. More money for the Teflon-using companies. More money for doctors and drug companies. Everyone's happy.

Until I expose their evil exploits and everyone starts buying stainless steel and using steel wool to clean. It's really not that difficult. And think of all the benefits. You can worry about other, less obvious health risks instead of thinking about cancer every time you want a pan of stir-fry.

Critisms v. Christianity

I'm going to take a few minutes to vent my raw thoughts on some things I've been reading lately. Forgive me if they'[re incoherant or disagreeable (I expect they might be disagreed with). Here's what I've been noticing in blogs and conversations from people in the gen-x and whatever generation I am in: We're bored with church so we feel the need to critisize it.

I've heard a lot of cynical remarks about the American church and how materialistic, self-centered, unfocused, etc it is. These arguments range from blaming "relevance" and "emergent" to embracing the postmodern mindset and everything in between. I especially get annoyed when I hear people picking at the American church in general... as if it can be distinguished as worse than the African churches that preach the prosperity gospel, or the sparse European churches filled with folks who go out of obligation. Or Soviet churches that still apply communistic principles (corruption) to the way their church operates. Or the Asian churches that are so isolated that the pastors have to come up with their own theology which may or may not be heretical. Sheesh. What are you complaining abbout? At least in America you can find another church... or turn on the radio and listen to a credible preacher.

While it's necessary to evaluate our standing and operations, I'm not certain critisizing it will do much to help. And comparing it to other countries? That's the stupidest thing I've heard. I get sooooo angry when I read or listen to people whining about how pathetic the American church is when nearly every other country in the world is filled with pagan religions, persecution, political corruption, and misguided docterine.

Don't sit around analyzing society and how it's affecting the Church and whining about how no one understands. DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT. Start serving Jesus. I think that when we stop thinking about everything that's wrong and trying to fix it in our philisophical discussions, and start worshipping Christ and working out His principles, there is a shift in perspective that would do everyone good. But maybe I'm naieve. I do have a really good church. And I did do the whole Christian college thing, where everyone is so satisfied and comfortable with their faith that they actually become dissatisfied (I know it's paradoxal, but it's true). And I'm probably pretty conservative... But people really should try visiting a Russian or African church before complaining about the American ones.