Arlo's wedding

We enjoyed some good old time fun this weekend. Our friend Arlene from college got married to another friend from college. Instead of a nice traditionally quaint wedding, or an elaborate show, this wedding was simple down to earth, good old fashioned fun.
I've lived in Iowa my whole life but never been to a barn dance. I really have to say I enjoyed it. My kids did too. We just had a great time. The music was fantastic.
Instead of cake and cake-cutting rituals, Arlo and Darin had a pie contest. All of their guests were invited to bring a pie for judging. Which made for delicious dessert time! We sat on quilts on the lawn for the meal, and had a great time visiting with friends and strangers.
Most weddings, you sit around with a couple people and have awkward conversation and try to think of things to say. This wasn't like that. we met some really neat people and enjoyed catching up with other friends from college.
I liked the small-town country feel. I wish we had mroe chances for things like that.
So, I'm just going to say, we named our kid after one of the coolest people in the world. When you read about the fruit of the Spirit in Galatians, you would be describing her. (Although she would tell you that isn't the case). She has a gentle, quiet demeanor but a funny sense of humor. She enjoys life. She lives in simplicity and welcomes people into her life with honesty and openness. She loves God and shines in whatever she does. Of course, we love her. And that will be a wedding for the history books, for sure.

Judgment Day

I just have to get this off my chest. I don't really feel like starting debates or anything, but this is my blog so I have a right to say what I think on it, don't I.
I know everyone thinks Harold Camping is a whack job, and of course the whole Judgment day thing is a joke.
Even to those of us who believe it will happen. Some day.
But it left me unsettled all day yesterday. Not because I was afraid that the world was going to end but because I don't like how funny it was to everyone. We shouldn't make light of holy things. And maybe this makes me as crazy as him, but I still believe that there will be a rapture, an apocalypse and a return of the King. It didn't happen like camping said it would. It didn't happen today, but I think it will some day.
While I was thinking about the whole thing yesterday and questioning it, I found this verse:

"I am ready to vindicate. I am ready to deliver, I will establish justice among the nations. The coastlands wait patiently for me; they wait in anticipation for the revelation of my power. Look up at the sky! Look at the earth below! For he sky will dissipate like smoke, and the earth will wear out like clothes; its residents will die like gnats. But the deliverance I give is permanent; the vindication I provide will not disappear." Isaiah 51:5-6

Thankfully, I can hope in him, even if the end of the world is near!

Here's another thing that's bugging me. Yes, his prophesy is wrong. Clearly. I don't really understand how he ever came to his conclusions. I really don't. But let's be honest. He's a guy who's allowed himself to get carried away with one little area of theology instead of concerning himself with the bigger picture. I think I've fallen into that category more than once. (Probably not so fanatically but who's to say?)
Yes, he's delusional. But I think it might be interesting to find out how many "respected" leaders in the church are actually incorrect. When the roll is called up yonder, and we're engulfed in the Truth. Something to think about. How quick you throw out phrases like "false teacher" and "liar".
I'm not saying he isn't false. He is. And clearly he missed a few pages in the "Principles of applying the Bible" book. But I've seen false teachers who KNEW they were doing it, who WANTED to say things that weren't true and make people follow them, because they knew it would bring them personal gain. Was Harold Camping one of them? No. And it's not my job to judge his heart anyway.

And last, of course every good evangelical has been saying it all along. We don't know when "IT" could happen. I think he might have mistook some of the information in Revelation, but I don't know. I don't think i have to know the details to believe it could have been today. And I don't think I'd want to give an account for my life yet. Still I know I'd be covered with Christ's everlasting love and forgiveness if I did have to. Would you be? You could. He invites us over and over.

Isaiah 55:1-3 Hey, all who are thirsty, come to the water! You who have no money, come! Buy and eat! Come! Buy wine and milk without money and without cost! Why pay money for something that will not nourish you? Why spend your hard-earned money on something that will not satisfy? Listen carefully to me and eat what is nourishing. Enjoy fine food! Pay attention and come to me. Listen so you can live! Them I will make an unconditional covenant promise to you. 6 Seek the Lord while he makes himself available, call to him while he is nearby!

Maybe I'm just as crazy as Harold Camping for believing it. I don't know. I'd rather believe it and be wrong than not believe and have it be right. Wouldn't you?

Heaven

Heaven

The darkness swells around
as the evening turns to night, and the shadows of longing
tear at my heart
When I remember her life
and think of all the missed years
that we could have shared together on this earth

And amidst the loneliness and loss, and begging for answers
I find a depth and quietness in my spirit
Blanketed in the comfort He’d promised when He left.
He said He’d come back and make it all right
Stand upon the hill, shout like a warrior
and carry forth His justice throughout the ends of the earth
And I could go back with him to his place in the sky
Where He’d wipe away every tear I cry.

And I’ll see her there, wrapped up in His love
and the time and the years and the sorrow and the tears
will become just sweet flavors of grace.
And the sickness of sorrow that shadowed our lives
in those moments when death gripped our souls
reminding us of our own frailty and sin
will be only a memory, one that pales there in His perfect light
when we behold Him.

(Missing Grandma. Wishing for Heaven)

Intergenerational mingling

Tonight my church's womens ministry took over a coffee shop for the express purpose of allowing women to "mingle" with women of other generations. It's a great idea! I couldn't make it because I had another commitment.
I did, however, have a chance for some inter-generational mingling. With my 14-year-old babysitter. It's sort of a funny coincidence, but while i was driving her home, we got on the subject of siblings and things. She talked about how her mom had lost several babies, and how she always wondered what it would have been like with those extra brothers, and how she couldn't wait to be together with them in heaven.
then I told her about my brothers who hadn't made it. It's weird. I don't think that I've ever really been able to share those feelings with someone who understood and had the same kinds of questions. Growing up, we just didn't talk about it much. I'm sure I've told people about my missing brothers, but it was different, saying it to a girl who wondered the same things about her own life, who wished for those missing family members. It's not a deep wound or anything, but it felt good to just say it and know that she understood.
Some things are so different between generations. Some things will probably always be the same.

Peter in the Garden

So this isn't really a final draft, but I wanted to post it today, lest I don't have a chance over the rest of the weekend. Besides, it's Maudy Thursday so what better time?
It's a little long. But it's kind of hard to cram Peter into a poem. I think it would make a better monologue, since this actually sort of sounds like poetry slam or something. But it's what I got. It's what I've been thinking about, how faith can be so weak even as Jesus is accomplishing His greatest acts. I might have to write Peter part 2, since I love the account of him and Jesus on the beach frying fish. But there just wasn't room for it with this one.

The Last Night

In the upper room for Passover,
While we were busy clamoring,
The teacher stooped and washed our feet.
I didn’t understand then how much it would mean.
Instead I argued, like I always do,
hoping something I said would make him explain
and he told me unless I was washed, I had no part with him.
It still didn’t seem right.
And neither did it, when he told us he’d be betrayed by one of us.
I didn’t want to think it was me
And I felt a sense of relief, when he passed that dipped bread to Judas.
Then he shared the cup with us, and told us of future glory
In His Father’s kingdom
And something about his broken body and spilled blood.

On the walk to the garden he prophesied again
And he said we would all fall away
They would strike the shepherd and the sheep would scatter
And I knew I shouldn’t argue but I said it anyway
I wouldn’t. I never would.
Then he told me I’d deny him, even tonight before the rooster crows
But I still promised I would follow to the death

And I could see the darkening of his face in the fire we lit while we sang a hymn.
He took me and John and James further in
And then he walked away
For a while I watched, and I could hear Him crying
Begging for the cup to be passed
And I think then I realized tonight would be different than the last three years
Tonight, whether in glory or death, His kingdom would begin.
I fell asleep there and I don’t know why. I still wish I hadn’t.
When I saw him next his hair was wet
And I thought there was blood mixed in his sweat
But his face was set like flint there in the moonlight—
Resolve and duress in his eyes.

They came with swords and clubs
A detachment of soldiers, wielding their best weapons
And Judas there at the lead, lighting the way
He kissed the Rabbi’s cheek
And if I could have reached him then, I would have hit him
The men asked for Jesus, and he said “I am He” with such power
They retreated and fell on their faces.
And I held my breath, waiting for his power to be revealed.
But he let them seize him instead.
And I was the only one who drew a sword to protect him.
He just walked away with them
And I stayed behind with a sword in my hand.
We didn’t know where to go
So some of us followed behind
And now I wonder what made me afraid
How did I ever come to that place?
Holding on in such fear and weakness of faith
When I was the one who had walked on water
Why was my heart, always so quick to fight,
Suddenly frozen? My tongue, so quick to speak and
Silenced there by the fire outside the Sanhedrin.

a little girl and a slave, asked if I knew him
And I said I didn’t. When they asked again, I said no.
The third time I swore with curses, with my Galilean accent telling of the lie
Then a rooster crowed.
And I, the one who had sworn first to follow unto death,
Stood there and wept, swallowed up by grief and doubt.
But it felt then like the world had become dark
While he was with us we saw the light
Yet in that moment, from the time he had been taken away
All that I’d built my confidence in seemed to fade

When they put him on the cross, I could hardly see.
Amidst the earthquake and the darkness and the rain
I just thought about that rooster, how Jesus had never been wrong
How all the things He’d told us would one day come to pass
While I didn’t understand them, I understood that one thing.
I had betrayed Him.
The Living God, who possessed the words of eternal life. The one true and rightful king.
There would be no room now at his right hand,
No kingdom come for me.
And yet, I still believed.

Because with Jesus, nothing was ever as it seemed.
He’d told me the rooster would crow.
He’d told me we’d all be scattered.
But before that He’d promised not to leave us and he’d said not to be afraid.
So that night I remembered how he’d stood in the boat and calmed the waves
How he’d appeared to us like a ghost on the raging waters
And I’d walked out to him with my wavering faith.
And with that shard of hope, I thought
maybe tomorrow, he’d be among us again
Laughing at the wind.
Calling us his friends.

SO EXCITED

It always feels good to finish reading a good novel. Unless it was meant to be depressing, but I don't usually read that kind. I usually get kind of hyper when I finally read the last chapter, even if I'd read ahead and knew how it would finish. Because I like seeing how it all comes together.
There's a kind of euphoria you experience that's similar, when you write your own novel.
I've written a lot. I started in seventh grade on my dad's work laptop, and I haven't been able to stop. I was probably geek-ville, because I think, when I was tweleve, I'd written at least 3 70+ page novels. Not to mention the countless ones scribbled out in notebooks.
They were all stupid, but at age 12, they were pretty cool. My friends even liked them.
At age 20-something, it's still amazing to finish. I finish a lot less often. I've gone back and edited a lot. And, often, I leave a story knowing I'll have to come back and tweak it and change certain plot points. But it hasn't got enough steam at the time to keep me going.

Today I finished one that I've had in my head since ninth grade. I didn't even start writing it until maybe five years ago. It never came together quite right until the last year or so. I decided to revisit the half-finished manuscript. I then decided to redo it. I kept bits and pieces, but most of it got hacked.
The end result? Perhaps my most favorite story I've ever written. (As mentioned before, I've written many. More than 20 probably, although most of them are for teenage audiences so I don't know fi that counts). I can't even share the details since we're on the internet and someone would steal them.
There have been so many that needed work. That have just been a little under par. (over par? I don't play golf).
But this. This I feel I could market. It's amazing. I've always felt like it had more potential than the others. I think I'm just happy about the end, because it involves a cabin on the prairie and horses. And it ended a little differently than I planned it to. But doesn't everything?

Goodbyes

I said goodbye to two good friends this last week. One is a friend Kelly I'd met through a young adults group back before I had kids. We've stayed in touch and she had her own kid, got married, and we were enjoying the same Bible study the last two years. Her husband took a new job in Arizona and now they're on their way down there. She's lived here her whole life. I didn't expect her to ever move away, and now she doesn't think they'll ever move back to the area. I'll miss her a lot.
The other one was the young adult pastor and his family. They've been here basically since I got married, building up a little flock of young adults in the church and doing a lot of work with people in my age and phase of life. They decided to go and learn how to plant churches, and then go ahead and plant one somewhere in Iowa. (River Tree Project) They're excited. They knew God was moving them on. They knew God had plans in store for them. And, as a person who was never super close to them, but always appreciated everything they did, I just... didn't really want them to go.
It was sort of like how I felt when my brother and sister-in-law moved to the other end of the globe. You know it's what God wants for them. And you know that it's good and right. But it doesn't feel like that, when you're the one left behind.
I guess mostly because I don't really like change, when it's something I really like having that way. I wish that we didn't live off of change. That life weren't so static.
But, here we are. And I think this is a time of life when a lot of people my age are moving around and trying new things. There's that 7-year itch, when careers become kind of stale and people want to try something different. we're made for change.
But I really didn't want to say goodbye to either of my friends. And in those few moments that I had at their individual going-away parties, I had time to talk with them and realize it was probably the last conversation we'd have in a long time. Maybe ever. I know you can stay in touch through the internet and all of the great technology, but it isn't the same as week to week face to face contact. There's something about that that makes a different dynamic in a relationship.
I'm glad for the few moments I had with all of them to say goodbye. The pastor and his wife, and my friend Kelly. I can't wait til heaven when we can all visit with each other as much as we want and no one will go away, and no one will be too busy, and we can share our stories with each other.
Billy Sprague has a song called "Heaven is a Long Hello". I'm tired of saying goodbye to people. I can't wait for that long hello.

15 Years Ago

Everyone has these events in their life that shape their future and become that black thread in their tapestry. Some of them are really huge. Divorces, parents leaving, deaths, breakups. Some people have more than one. Some people probably have hundreds, linked up together with other ones, inseparable from the reds and blues and greens.
I don't have very many. And it sounds so trival when I talk about it. I know it isn't monumental, and I know it's really not "that big of a deal", but it took a long time to really get over it.
15 years ago, we were at a church where things went amuck. I can't really share all of the details because I don't feel like it. There were so many things happening behind the scenes. So many creepy dark spiritual things that I hate even remembering. And, many of the things were just simple church politics gone wrong.
Dad confronted the leadership, who, I think were a little self-serving and self-absorbed. Mostly just deceived. They asked him to leave the church. They called him the devil, and said that we were blaspheming the Holy spirit. Whatever that means.
I can't really explain it the way I should. I think, at age 15 I understood most of what was happening. But I can't explain it well. especially if you've never been injured by a church. It doesn't really make sense. It's like, you should just move on and find a better church, right?
But when people you trust, and love and spend so much of your life with, turn their backs on you, it's really hard to handle.
I had a guy friend back then. We weren't officially anything, mostly because he was two years younger than me and I was pretty good friends with his sister. we were close, though. He'd call me up and kind of try to argue about why we'd left. I didn't really have any good answers, I just knew it was right. And he stopped calling eventually and I didn't really see him again for a long time. I still miss him and wonder what might have happened if he'd stayed in touch.
When the people who are your spiritual leaders all forsake you, it leaves you kind of at a loss. My dad of course, was the biggest spiritual leader, and I followed him ultimately. but it did make me start to wonder if what I'd learned my whole life was even true. I had no idea how to filter out what was actually true and what was nonsense and lies and unbiblical.
So we left, and really, in the end, only one of my friends stayed friends with me. I wasn't really popular at school. By "wasn't really" I mean I had one actual friend who I even liked talking to and a couple of other geeks who I talked to a lot by default since we were always the losers. That left me my brothers (who are awesome), my best friend Bethany (whose parents are way more mature and wise than most of their peers and didn't get so wound up over some theological differences, and still let their daughter hang around me even though they probably actually didn't want to) and my internet friends. Primarily Brian who is still one of the most amazing people I know.
It was lonely. Wow, it was lonely.
And there was a lot of other crap going on. Creepy things. Some people would call it "spiritual warfare" or "spiritual attack". People left weird sidewalk graffiti outside of our house. Someone broke the window in our van (right outside my bedroom window). My sister got hit by a car. My mom had episodes where she couldn't breathe. There were nightmares. It was just creepy.
I was fifteen. i loved Jesus but at that point, that was all I knew. I hated church. I wanted to like it but I just didn't. We were visiting other places, trying to find a good fit. None of them fit. Not that our first church really did either. I'd never liked the youth group there. But I did like my Bible quiz team and my four friends, and now they were gone.
We visited a lot of churches. We were seriously considering one. Then my folks decided to try one of the other ones that they'd gone to without us a few weeks ago. We all went.
That day, I found light in my darkness. I found the best youth group I'd ever seen with people who were friendly and actually cared about spiritual things, and really let God live in their hearts. The pastor preached a REAL sermon. The music was great and engaging. They all seemed to like each other. After the service, the pastor walked among the people and talked with them like they were all his friends. And they were.
Fifteen years ago, the black thread in my tapestry had a bright yellow thread wound around it. And, there were years of scars to take care of ahead of me. But there, in that awesome youth room with blue and yellow ceiling tiles, and cheerful kids and good Bible teaching, I found home. And I'd never even known that I could be in a place so comfortable, so welcoming and so right.
It was streams in my desert. It was a feast set before me when I'd been eating dry bread. And it still is that way, 1,000 more people later. A husband, two kids, and hundreds of friends later. I love it there. And, God redeems and restores.

i think of things I could blog about throughout the day, but whenever I have a chance to sit down and actually write something, my mind goes blank. Oh well.
The house is in disarray right now. we tore out the shower and are going to put in a new one. It SUCKS. I am not a patient project person. I hate them. I don't sit around envisioning the perfect end product. I just hate them. I hope we never live in another house like this one.
Right now, the hammer drill is banging away while the kids are getting ready to go to sleep.
And I'll stop because I just want to complain. And you probably don't care much.
I really don't have anything to say. Although, maybe sometime within a week, I'll have another poem cranked out. It's sitting there on the edge of my mind, all of these thoughts swimming around in little phrases that I have to link together.
I guess I should go and do something productive now.

Spring Has Come

I used to hate spring time. It's always muddy and windy and you spend most days waiting for a good-weather day, surprised when it actually comes. I like it now. Probably partly because I have kids and by the end of winter, I'm ready to do something besides chase after their messes in the house. WE don't have to put on nineteen hundred outdoor clothing to go places, and I don't have to warm up the car.
Partly I like it because it just feels like everything's starting new. All of the darkness of winter has passed. We're getting ready for the time of year when we can do things as a family without any planning or effort.
And, my flowers are blooming. When we came home from the hospital after having Grace, Daniel's aunt had left us a nice pot of flowers, all in bloom. In the dead of winter. They were so pretty. We saved the bulbs and planted them the next year. The evil squirrels dug most of them up, but last year, lo and behold, an iris and two little daffodils popped up! This year, there are even more of them. It brings joy to remember how the cloudy days can pass and new life always returns.
I suppose I'll have to dig those up when we move. I couldn't leave them behind.

I was planning to use this post to just say that I haven't written much because I've been busy with warm weather and house projects. And it's true. It's because spring is here. Time to clean up the messes, scrub the carpet, and organize.
And, tonight, my friend from college is coming! She's been in England for three years and I've missed her so much. So. I'll be busy until further notice.

Hospital Bed

I've been at the hospital for 29 hours now with my oldest daughter. She became dehydrated a couple of days ago, so they're monitering her. It's not looking really serious right now. But I hate being here, helpess. I like having the help, and knowing that if anything gets worse, we're where we should be. I'm restless now, thinking about all of the things I need to do when i get home. I'm pretty exhausted too. And, in the night, you worry about things you have no need to worry about. Here's what I wrote because I'm bored.

Hospital Bed

What helplessness we find
in the hospital bed
watching
waiting
time slowly ticking by
and the trouble we imagine
tormenting our sleep

what frailty we see
those tiny hands
tiny tears
calling out for help
which I cannot give

But bigger hands hold us
In the weakest of times
showing us hope
saving, sustaining,
Healing—His voice
Singing a song in the night:
Help is on the way

Fight, Fight, Fight Fight Fight!

I was talking to a friend out in DC the other day about the 60's, of all things. Probably anyone who lived during the 60's and 70's would have laughed at our naive, outsider's perspective on all that happened "back then".
She mentioned how you could tell what subculture a person from that time came out of--the hippies, the soldiers, or the Jesus people--by what they're fighting for/against today.
I think it's funny how so many cultural patterns were set then, and how they still influience our thinking today, more so than the generations that followed. My friend was noticing how all of the pastors from that time seem to want to be fighting, but they don't really know what they're fighting anymore. I don't even know what to think of that, but I do think that, a lot of folks who came out of the 60's and 70's have an axe to grind. I didn't notice it in my parents, but I can see it in prominent political figures, disillusioned by their idealism from the 60's, planning to save the world with government now. I can see it in many Christians, too, who think that the Church is actually the problem with Christianity.
And I think, maybe we're in a similar place that those folks were in. Disillusioned with the government, in the midst of a war that so few people support, dissatisfied with the religious establishment. Maybe we're at another breaking point. And maybe we don't realize it. As my friend said, maybe no one realizes that they're in a moment in history that will be studied and analyzed for years to come, when they're in that moment, just living and looking at the present.
Right now, I feel like we're looking at overturned old soil that's grown the last generation's crops, and we're ready to plant something new. All kinds of things can grow there. Between religion, technology, economics and government, I think we're in for a mixed crop. I don't want to be in the free-spirited camp, or the military camp. Or people who are putting their hope in establishments at all. I want to be in with the people following God's lead, establishing the only thing that's going to last. His Kingdom.

I'll Fly Away

So, I've been watching this absolutely amazing TV show called I'll Fly Away. I watched it when i was a kid, back in the early 90's when it was a new show. It's about a family who lived in the south during the civil rights movement. The dad of the home is the district attorney, and struggles with where he stands on different issues, and what battles he should fight. His three kids offer three perspectives--the oldest, open minded and willing to cross lines a little, the middle daughter, a snitty 13-year-old who thinks nothing's a big deal and the world should revolve around her, and the 6-year-old who asks a lot of questions and doesn't understand the ways of the world. Their house worker, a black woman, is also a main character, and we see much of her life and hear her reflections at the end of every episode.
Even as a middle schooler, I would watch the show on Sunday nights, enjoying the drama even when I didn't fully understand it. It changed my perspective then, and I like the show all the more now that I really understand everything. I think everyone would. Forget Roots! This show gives life to all of the stories that we heard whenever we studied the movement in school.
Growing up in the middle of the middle, I just can't even fathom the battle that happened. I can't imagine what it would have been like to stand up, for the first time, and risk being hurt or killed, just because I wanted to be treated with respect.
I wonder, if I'd lived then, what I would have done with my own influence. If I would have even thought much of it, or if I'd have sat back and watched it all unfold without lifting a finger for either camp. I don't know what i would have done. All I know is, having watched a few of these episodes, I have a new respect for those brave people who decided enough was enough--the people who still do it, every day, around the world. And I hope, if the chance ever arises and I have the chance to stand up and fight for something I really believe in, that I'll do it with all of my strength.

Infobesity, and fasting from technology

So I read this article today that got me thinking. I shared it on facebook, but I wanted to write something about it quickly here. It was really good (click on the title of this post to see the article), pointing out how we become addicted to our on-the-spot social networks and email and internet, forgetting the world around us. There were a lot of good points there. Basicaly, it came down to "infobesiety":

"Susan Maushart, author of the new book, The Winter of Our Disconnect, describes this kind of addiction to media with the marvelous term “infobesity.” Just as Americans have a growing reputation—if you’ll pardon the pun—for physical obesity, we also have an expanding commitment to staying “connected” through social media such as Facebook and devices such as smart phones."

Interesting? Personally, I'm a little offended when I'm talking with someone and they're checking their phone every five minutes (or seconds), sending texts and really, only half-engaged in what I'm saying. I don't have a smart phone so I can't really say how it should be, but I decided today to make an effort to be less consumed by the internet world, and focus more on God, and connect face-to-face with tangible people more. Because, more often than not, I'm wasting time reading about what someone ate for lunch, when I could be talking to my neighbor about what's in her soul. I don't want to be an addict. It's annoying.

So, here it is, internet world. I'm going to take Wednesdays off. No internet. I'll try it for a month, and hopefully can have enough will power to stick with it even longer. Who wants to join me?

Isaiah

I just finished my Bible study for tomorrow. Isaiah is so full of good things. 41-43 are treasures. So meaty. Every verse means something. I really got a lot out of it, so I'm going to have to share. I apologize you non-Bible people.

42:13 The Lord shall go forth like a mighty man; He shall stir up His zeal like a man of war. He shall cry out, yes, shout aloud; He shall prevail against his enemies
I used to have a poster I stole from my brother with that verse on it, hanging on my bedroom wall. It was a really sweet piece of art, with a firey Jesus on a horse trampling out the whispy demons, hidden throughout the picture. I can't really describe it well. But I always liked it. What hit me tonight, reading that, was that He's fighting on my behalf! I don't have to win the war. I just have to trust Him.

43:1b-2 Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by your name; You are Mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow you. When you walk through the fire, you shall not be burned, nor shall the flame scorch you.

My rivers and fires haven't been nearly as terrible or difficult as so many others', but I have seen my share of them. And, as the doubt clouds in and the fear floods my soul in the middle of the night, I've seen this promise over and over. I have never been so overwhelmed that I couldn't reach for Him. I have never been so engulfed in flames that I couldn't see the way out. He loves me.
He called my name, and I came to Him, and I belong to Him. How precious.

43:22,25-26 But you have not called upon me, O Jacob; and you have been wary of me, O Israel... but you have burdened me with your sins, you have waried me with your iniquities. I, even I, am He who blots out your transgressions for My own sake; And I will not remember your sins. Put me in remembrance; Let us contend together; State your case, that you may be acquitted.

When I read the part about burdening God with my sins, I felt something in my soul. we've been working on a lot of things lately. And they kind of have been a burden. It was good to read on and know, that he blots out our sin. Not for our sake, but for His, so we can know Him more fully and reflect His light.

There were so many more things. I encourage you to take a look for yourself. Like I said, it's full of great things.

Confessions of a Big-Mouthed Woman

I had this strange dream last night, and the details have become hazy but I think that maybe my brainw as trying to tell me something. In my dream, I had had this conversation with my sister-in-law, and then we went on with the day. Later that night, someone (I think her husband) told me that I had wounded her. And I had no idea how. Then I replayed our conversation and realized that I'd said so many hurtful things.
It didn't really happen. Although I'm sure it has, and I haven't realized it.
I'm not the kind of person who chit-chats just for entertainment or to get to know people. I do that out of necessity because it seems to be what women like to do. When i'm talking with someone, I'd rather just relay important information or share what's on our hearts. Small talk isn't my thing.
But I think in small talk, I say all kinds of things that I don't mean. And I don't even realize it until later. Or never. I want to try to reign it in a little. Say fewer things and think more before I talk. It's something me and God have been discussing lately. (Probably the cause of the dream, since it's been on my mind so much).
If I've done this to you, PLEASE know, I'm not trying to be a jerk. Probably I just said something that came out wrong and I didn't even realize it. Tell me. I'll give you a sincere apology. Tell me if you hear me do it to someone else, for that matter. I'm kind of dense.

Open Mouth

Insert foot.
No matter how old I get, how sensitive I think I'm being, how careful I am, I still have a big mouth. And I'm afraid I always will.

Another winter Story

I was born in Northeast Montana in one of the backwoods hospitals, in the middle of the worst snow storm anyone had seen in years. during my first few days, the snow drifts in the country grew to be ten feet tall. The plow tried to go through, but it broke and turned around, not to return for weeks.
My parents decided to take me out to the farm, where my grandparents were, where my brother was probably waiting to meet his sister. they couldn't drive all the way there, though. They met my grandpa there at the biggest snow drift with a snowmobile. They had me in a little box, wrapped up in blankets, so sure enough, they drove me the last couple of miles on a snowmobile. Four days old. Freezing cold.
That's where I'm from. Maybe that's why I like snow storms.

JJ

Happy Birthday to my whirlwind daughter,
The Stinky-Pants Wonder
Sister indeed
Strong spirited, iron willed
tough-as-nails
Monster hair
Reckless snuggler
Joy of my heart.
Bringer of victory.
Evidence of God's grace,
poured abundantly on our lives

pain and purpose

I apologize for the depressing posts lately. I have one more. Then I think I'll just keep it all bottled up inside after that.

So, I've always liked winter, and it hasn't ever been a super depressing struggle for me to get through. Until three years ago. That year winter lasted for-EVER. Even when it was over, it was still there. It was a long one on the records, and cold and snowy and just depressing for someone who was dealing with grief. And I sat at home a lot, wallowing in sorrow and tears.

Ever since then it hits me around this time of year. I can't figure out if it will ever stop. And like I've said before, I'm not sure I want it to because it's the only little piece I have of my Gracie.

Last week they did a skit for "sanctity of life" Sunday. It was supposed to be this girl who was getting ready to go to earth, and she peeked at her plan that had been written in the book of lives, how she would become a lawyer and raise kids, etc. But then at the end, there was a little note that said, "Although a beautiful plan has been written for her life, it will not come to pass." Then we realized that something on earth had happened, something bad, and she wouldn't make it there....
It was supposed to be an affirmation that life is precious and we should be supporting efforts of people who want to preserve babies' lives.
All I heard was, "Although your baby had a beautiful plan written for her life, it didn't happen."
Yeah. Perfect timing.
Daniel said he cried every time he saw it (he was on the praise band so he saw it four times) and didn't realize til the last time that that was why. Our little baby. Something went wrong. Something I had no control over. And so many pieces of me will always have questions and hurt and doubts. And no one wanted it to be this way.

So. If you see me crying during songs at church or looking a little "blue", just remember. January 29th. Written forever in my heart.

and I know

That the world doesn't revolve around me
that everyone had legitimate reasons for not being able to hang out
that it doesn't matter anyway
that I have lots of really great friends
that my life is so great and I shouldn't complain.

I'm going to blame it on being husband-less all week. And the weather.

Loser

No matter how old I get and what changes in life, I still find myself, so very often, dressed up with no place to go. Throwing parties that no one comes to. Not invited to the ones everyone else is going to. Introducing my friends to each other and finding that they like each other better than me.
Saying or doing something that a friend doesn't like and never hearing from them again.
Apparently I'm just not that fun to hang out with.
And today I'm freaking lonely. And I just wanted to go to a movie with some friends, but, out of at least twenty people, only two could come. And then those two had to change their plans.
And I'm alone.

Lost in Space

Warning: this post contains nothing but complaining. Depression may ensue if you read on.

Ugh. I haven't recovered from "The Holidays" yet.
I think it's getting worse. Maybe it's seasonal affective disorder, or just lack of sunshine in general. Maybe it's some other chemical imbalance.
I'm tired all the time. The 2 year old wakes up at least once a night now, even though she could sleep through the night, she's reprogrammed herself some how. Ugh.
I wander around like a zombie. The last few days I feel like have been a haze. I'm doing the stuff I have scheduled, but I just don't really feel much. Except being annoyed and irritable. Which is great.
And I've been feeling like a complete failure in so many ways. Even if I tell myself it isn't true or it doesn't matter, I still feel like I suck at everything. And, I sort of do.
I guess it's just a "desert time". I have things to learn about myself and new mercies to experience and good things are still happening, but I'm weary. And that's just how it feels today. Maybe tonight I'll sleep well and it will all be OK tomorrow.

Letting Go

I let my daughter stay the night at the neighbor's house tonight. She's only stayed with grandparents before. Definitely harder on Mommy than on her.

This is what letting go feels like
little by little bit by bit
a hug and a kiss and a wave over the shoulder
and then a shrug or nothing
and you'll walk out that door
And a little part of me is sad
and it wants to hold you here forever
with your sweet smile
and your hand in mine
But most of me knows I just have to face it
that little girls grow up
and this is what letting go feels like
losing a little piece of perfection
a moment that can never return
while I am reminded
and you have to learn
that the wonderful world
is full of darkness and danger
and I can't always keep you safe
even while beauty flourishes and little lights still shine
you have to know who you can trust.
And I don't want to do it
not now or ever
i tell myself you aren't ready
while you tell me you are.
and this is what letting go feels like
taking these hearts so easily broken
and putting them into Bigger Hands
while the dangers and darkness swirl around us
while the tides and cultures change
in the midst of time
while I can still hold your tiny hand in mine
I will teach you to let your little light shine.