From a Distance

Everyone is home now. Bill and Abby arrived home late afternoon, yesterday. And Alex is settled in his new home, at college, far away. It feels surprisingly okay. After all, these last couple years we have seen less and less of him as he has gone out to concerts, stayed overnight at friends' houses, gone on short trips, worked a job. He has been growing up and leaving for college, in a sense, for a while now. It was talked about and planned for and then...it happened.

It's amazing how fast life goes, and also how agonizingly slow and long some days are- the painful days. Right now, these are happy days. I feel a bit sad, but I am not in severe pain over the loss and the separation. My son hasn't left us- he has just left home base for another base where he can continue on towards his dreams. That's what we want for him.

While Bill and Abby were gone, getting Alex settled into his dorm, I was here in an empty house filled with a lot of stuff. I had bags and boxes of things that we no longer needed or wanted or things that we have outgrown. So my sister, Sue, and I had a Garage Sale at her house. It was a great way to be busy and to thin out unnecessary things from our life.

It was hot and sunny and the people came in waves. It was also a lot of fun.

"A dollar!" became our answer for almost every inquiry of "How much is this?". We just wanted to get Stuff out of our life and make room for Love, for Change, for Moving Onward. Her oldest son was leaving to go back to his last year of college and we both were feeling a bit blue, a bit unsettled. So it was fun to be together and to meet so many interesting people.

And then I saw him- the most beautiful little baby boy. A chubby baby- as in pudgy dimpled arms and legs. I joked with the Mom who was holding him, "This is the only time in your life when rolls of fat look so good on you!". My sister and I remarked how adorable he was. The mother told us he was five months old. I looked at that little boy and thought of my little boy, now big, now grown, now gone. I think she saw longing in my eyes, because then she did something so unexpected. She suddenly reached out and placed her baby in my arms. Without a word. With a smile. A very knowing smile.

I held him close to me and my eyes welled up with tears. He was chubby and blond and fair skinned- not at all like my son was when he was a baby. But he was close to me. He was in my arms and not resisting. He was snuggled in close to me. And for one minute I felt such sweetness and such sadness that I couldn't speak. I had once held my son like this. More than once. Many, many times, many days, many years. And the years flew by.

And now I hold him close to me, but also from a distance.

"To everything there is a season, a time for every purpose under the sun...." (Eccl. 3:1)

Midnight Battles and Morning Convictions

You don't have to have a child going off to a college far away to feel anxious. There are so many things that can cause that nervous undercurrent where you are breathing rapidly and feel slightly nauseous. Then the mind kicks in with those circular thoughts that never come to a conclusion, and you realize you are worrying.

For me, this usually occurs at 3am. I don't know why, but this is when I suddenly wake up and have to admit that I am feeling anxious. It happened again last night. And the Fight is always harder at night time. This is when things look bleak and your resources seem to be a tiny, tiny cup of hope. This is when you could even think that God is far away and that your battle is yours, alone, to deal with. But its not.

I've gotten more adept at these night time battles. I no longer expect to float through life without getting attacked by Anxiety. Anxiety is a voracious lion always looking to enter into the land of your mind and feed off your fears. But now I expect that I can win this battle every time I start to feel the erratic palpitations of my heart.

God wants me to win this battle, because every time I do, I am reasserting my proclamation that God is My Provider, My Healer, My Deliverer. This is what is at stake: who is God when we feel weak and afraid? Is He as weak as our quivering will to survive or is He as mighty and strong as the One who just whispers an order and a violent storm is stilled and quieted? I have to answer that every time I battle anxiety, every time I feel afraid. I have to keep reasserting Who He IS and How I want to know Him.

How I know Him determines how well I sleep at night, determines how much I am willing to take a risk or even make a mistake. "He gives more grace", always more grace, to the ones who not only ask for it, but by their need are constantly aware that its by grace that they stand (James 4:6).

Now today I see a very dark sky. It's raining and it will probably thunder. It looks bleak and it feels as dark as it looks. But I also see a reason to smile, even as I look around the messy house and as I think of the last minute errands I have to run. I battled an enemy last night, and I came out ahead. I'm farther along in trusting Him, and I think I could even say He is proud of me that I am contending for all that He wants for me: to live in peace, to breathe in hope and give out love, and never ever fear what lies ahead.

Tears and Smiles

I think the dog may be more in tune with the reality of what's happening than I am. After all, Harry is not running around buying socks, shampoo, x-long twin sheets for those famously uncomfortable extra long beds in the dorms. Instead he is lying on my bed, half asleep,half mourning all the commotion, looking like a sweet lamb in a bit of distress.

The dining room table is our Grand Central: that's where lists and bags and more bags of stuff are being stored. That, and Alex's room- which is quickly filling up with more duffel bags of clothes and books and assorted things. We are packing up our son as if he is going off to the wilderness for four years. I am too busy managing and shopping and making lists to pay attention to what I may feel later...when he is gone.

The plan is this: early (very early) Wednesday morning, Bill will be doing last minute packing of the car (I already know this). Then Alex will wake up in a fog,put in his contacts, and root around the house looking for last minute things. Abby will get up last, and smile at me in anticipation of the adventure ahead: she is going also. There is a college connection type of day camp going on at the same time as the freshman orientation. She is going to take part. It is going to be a whirlwind of activity for the three of them for three days. And I will be here at the house, soothing Harry with lots of murmuring, "It's going to be alright" and lots of sighing- both his and mine.

For the five days Bill and Abby will be gone(three days in Kentucky settling Alex in and then two days traveling home), I will be wandering around this house in total peace and quiet. I intend to pray a lot, take Harry on lots of walks, read, and look out the window while my mind flashes back to the days when I was so needed in my son's life.

There's a bit of joy and peace I have in releasing him to his future because I do feel I have done all I could do in "launching" him. He would tell you, also, that there has been no shortage of words, on my part, no lack of admonitions, warnings, and reminders. I could wish that I had hugged him more these last couple years, but even there it seems that young men need fewer hugs and more looks of love, instead; the kind of look that says, "I want to hug you so badly right now but instead I'll look at you with such pride. You're a strong young man,...and I'm so glad you're my son."

My son will tell you that I give him all kinds of looks- those looks of love, looks of frustration, looks that yell out in warning, "That's one more box of hair coloring that you owe me!" every time he has turned me gray with worry. I think he may miss the looks I give him most of all. He certainly knows that I will call him a lot and we'll talk by phone.

But as for the look on my face when we're talking, he will have to imagine what that is. Most of the time it will be a look that says, "I'm missing you so much right now...but I wouldn't wish that you were home. You are right where you are supposed to be. And that makes me smile. " After all, tears and smiles go together quite frequently. At least in this household they do.

Everything Will Change

The dog is upset. I don't say that with much sympathy. I'm a bit frustrated with Harry right now. For the last six nights in a row, he has had an accident on the carpet, in the same spot, blatantly displaying his refusal to come and nudge us or bark in warning that he needed to go out. He didn't even try to get to the door to go out and do his business. No, it's like he has issued a warning to us that he is disturbed and emotionally troubled right now, and what better way to let us know that than with something so aromatically charged and obvious as his "business" right there before us where he has no business going?!

It could be that he can tell our son is leaving for college any day now. It may be that he senses all the commotion and packing and discussing is a sign that a big change is occurring- and he does not like change. He has made that very clear to us in the years we have had him.

"He's very delicate," my husband will say, in his defense.

"He's needy" my kids will offer up as an explanation of why he clings to us and shadows me everywhere I go in the house.

"He's a lot of work," I usually reply with an angry glare... and then a sigh signaling I am going to overlook his latest faux-pas. He is what he is: furry, fun, lovable and often a pain in the neck. But we adopted him from the Animal Rights Rescue group. We chose him to come live with us, for better or worse. And that's where we are right now, at one of those seasons where Harry is exhibiting his anxiety and confusion.

I myself have been having disturbing dreams, midnight wrestlings where I wake up and look at the clock reading 3am, and then battle all the "what if's" that suddenly come to mind. None of us are sad that Alex is leaving for college. We're excited for him. We're very hopeful about all that he is going to learn and experience. But we're a bit anxious about how life will be, now. Everything- and I do mean everything- is going to change.

Now there will be only three of us at the dinner table each night. The house will be quiet, except for the light humming along to music that Abby does. There won't be groups of guys coming over, saying "Hi Mrs. Caldwell!" while they hopefully eye the kitchen looking for chocolate cake or something freshly baked for them to eat. A big change will be that once Bill and I retire to our room to sleep, I will not lie there half awake as the night goes on, waiting for that knock on the door that signals my son's return home from whatever adventure he'd just had. When our daughter Abby goes to sleep (at a reasonable hour), she is out for the count, just like that. But our son is a night owl. And he doesn't always remember to let me know when he finally gets home. Many nights I have suddenly woken up with a start, run to his room to find him sprawled across his bed, and have heaved a sigh of relief. Now, when Bill, Abby (and even Harry) go to bed for the night, that's where everyone will be till dawn...in bed, safe and sound.

As to where my son will be every night, who knows?! He will be where he should be: at college, in his new world, carving out his life there with joy and probably some confusion. It will be a big change for him, having complete autonomy and jurisdiction over his life (other than the reminder phone calls that I do plan to make, reminding him to take medicine, reminding him to try-please try- and get some sleep, reminding him to eat vegetables and fruit and not just pizza and fries with cheese sauce all the time).

His leaving is not the only big change in our family's life. We are homeschooling Abby this year. We are also looking for a new church to be part of, one that is scaled down to the basics of fellowship, ministry, prayer. Many churches struggle in their quest to handle their growth. Sometimes they wind up wanting the supposed beauty of the business world where everything is efficient, successful, and organized. Management can become a key word, instead of Ministry. I'm at a point in my life where I have to scale back to the things that I know I need. I need to get to a place where I can fellowship with struggling Christians, with victorious Christians, with broken and confused Christians- 'cause I am all of those. Look me in the eye, and you'll see that. But we'll need to be face to face. We'll need to be real with each other.

Everything is changing. And change, for the most part, is stressful. But it is so needed. It signals that we're growing, that we're developing our gifts. It signals that we're releasing loved ones into their future. It means that we can't hold onto the past. We fumble around through change, and we often look ridiculous as we navigate the new paths before us. We are humbled as we have to ask for help, ask for advice from others who have gone before us. We are sometimes skittish and nervous, as Harry has been.

But it's all good. It really is. Or I should say it all works together for good- if we're flexible, if we admit that we have not gone this way before, if we look up and fix our eyes on the Author and Finisher of our Faith. He will make this new world we enter be above and beyond what we thought it could be. It will be a journey and a Challenge. And it will be alright.

How to Make Him Smile

You never know when something is an opportunity or a distraction until you do a bit of investigation. We received a letter in the mail, recently, saying that someone referred my daughter, Abby, to a local girl's pageant. It was a bit confusing, the letter. It seemed like it was talking about a type of beauty pageant- only they made references to it being a pageant based on personality. Hmmmm. Only one way to find out what this was all about: we decided to go to the information meeting. It was set for Saturday.

It turns out that it was not something we would get involved with- for many reasons. But we did have an enjoyable experience watching what was presented, listening to the details, and investigating what the bottom line was all about.

As we drove home, my daughter explained what the personal interview was like. She was told she needed to walk towards the panel of judges with her eyes on them, projecting confidence, and then sit down while they asked her three questions. It all happened within a couple minutes, she said. (And they were going to evaluate on just that?)

"Did you maintain eye contact with the judges as you walked toward them?" I asked.

"Yes, " she said. "Only they weren't looking at me. They were scribbling notes on a piece of paper, probably notes about the girl who had just gone before me. They didn't see that I was looking at them." My daughter is pretty discerning about the way life is: that first impressions are noted, that people do judge a book by its cover, and that she really isn't into "all that". So we headed to the community pool for some fun in the sun, and put all this pageant stuff behind us.

It was interesting, though, this morning, when I was reading in Hebrews chapter 4 and 5. We are not to have "an evil heart of unbelief". And with confidence, we are told to "come boldly to the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy and find grace to help in time of need". To come boldly means to come without reservation, with unreserved utterance, candor, cheerful courage. Why would we be cheerful and courageous in approaching God with our requests for help? Why would we have our eyes on Him, expectant and hopeful, as we walk towards Him- just as my daughter did when she approached the panel of judges?

Could it be that cheerful courage is the sign, the external evidence, that we know Whom we have believed in and are persuaded that He is able to keep that which we have committed to Him- our faith, our trust, our reliance on Him?(2 Tim. 1:12) Now, those judges did not see my daughter looking confidently at them. They are human. They miss things. We all do.

But God never misses a saint looking expectantly at Him- never! But sadly true as well is the fact that He sees when we have averted our eyes, when we have failed to trust Him, failed to believe that He is our Help in times of trouble. "'...O you of little faith!' What a stinging pain must shoot through the disciples as they surely thought to themselves, "We missed the mark again!'. And what a sharp pain will go through us when we realize that we could have produced complete and utter joy in the heart of Jesus by remaining absolutely confident in Him, in spite of what we were facing"(My Utmost for His Highest 8/12).

The thought that I could produce joy in the heart of Jesus by letting Him see my eyes are on Him, my confidence is in Him, and I am walking towards Him expectant of His available help- well, that makes my day! I'm all set to go out and bring a smile of joy to Him by simply letting Him see that no where but Him do my eyes rest, no One but Him do I trust in to make me able to run this race and not be weary, to walk courageously onward and not faint.

Letting Go

Two weeks from today my first child, my son Alex, leaves for college- and not a college in a nearby town but in a southern state 13 hours away by car. This is the child who was born 3 1/2 weeks premature, weighing 4 lbs. 14 ozs, and who didn't weigh what a normal new born would weigh till he was three months old. My husband kept saying "He looks like a little squab" as we looked at baby photos of him the other day.

This is the child who has aged me considerably these last two years. He was only doing what he had to do- which was asserting himself, trying out independence and autonomy; and I was only doing what a mother does- which was letting go, or trying to learn to let go while watching over him fiercely like the mother hawk that I am. I don't know how to love casually and dis-interestedly. But I had to learn to love from an increasing hands-off distance. I would give myself a C, so far.

At least I am not failing the Course "How to Be the Mother of a Teenage Son". The only mother who fails that course is the mother who gives up...permanently. I have given up many times. Usually at the dinner table. My son reminded me of that last night. My level of frustration will rise as the level of my son's humor-turned-into-sarcasm sometimes rises, and I'll throw my hands up, and retreat to the bedroom for some peace. (I normally did this when the supper turned out to be dry or burnt. It was easier to retreat then.)

But I only gave up temporarily. You're allowed to do that. Some nice people call it surrendering. Some Christians- the gracious kind- will murmur how you are wise to give up, to let go, to walk away. Even if I yelled out, "I quit! I'm not going to mother you anymore. Do your own laundry and make your own meals!", I meant it...for only an hour or so. Then that need to love and care for someone who tried my patience would return and I would buck up and brace myself to go on clumsily mothering my soon-to-fly-off little chickadee. Only this chickadee grows a beard in a day and walks like a man and sometimes comes back home for a quick hug and a whisper of encouragement to me: "You're not so bad, Mom".

That's what will ring in my ears as he and his Dad fill the car with all his stuff and drive off to take him to his college, to take him to his future. I might feel a bit teary eyed but then I'll think of all that awaits him: the challenges, the fun, the growing, the discovery of it all. And then when I walk into the house and see the silent drum set in the garage, and hear no raucous music blasting from his room, and see no dirty clothes lying around the bathroom floor, I'll whisper to myself, "It's not so bad." And then I'll know that he and I can do this thing called Letting go.

How Do You Spell S-U-C-C-E-S-S?

Saturday my Dad threw a party. My brother Mark and my two sisters and all the grandchildren gathered over at my parents' house to eat lobster and sweet corn from my brother's organic garden. Only my brother Joe and his family were not there (because they live in Pennsylvania). But we added in Laurenzo, my cousin, from my Dad's side of the family, and his daughter. When I introduced my daughter to his daughter, I tried to explain that she was a second (or was it third?) cousin, but Laurenzo gently rebuked me and said, "In South America, there are no second or third cousins. It is simply primo, cousin; you are family, and there are no second or thirds."

So we feasted and of course, we danced. Or I should say, they danced. I'm not into the salsa and tango and mambo or anything else that requires me to whirl around the dance floor shaking my hips. I must have missed out on that gene when it was passed out. Instead, I wound up out in the screened in porch overlooking the garden, discussing choice of majors, colleges, and careers with my nephews and one of my brothers-in law. I started to recall the days when I did recruiting and personnel placement. I wanted to help my nephew zero in on his heart's desire rather than choose a college major and a career based on what pays, who is hiring, and where the majority go.

Later, after we got home, I felt restless. And the restlessness didn't go away. What kept surfacing in my mind was the whole issue of how we navigate the major crossroads of our lives, the turning points when you have to make a choice, or by not making a choice to do something, you have inadvertently chosen something by default. The whole issue of success- or what is success- has been on the back burner of my mind, constantly simmering, never coming to full boil, but not cooling down either.

How we define success will influence our level of peace and contentment. And what, exactly, is success? Should the Christian have a different definition of success than the world does? According to wordnet, success is:

an event that accomplishes its intended purpose;

an attainment that is successful;

a state of prosperity or fame;

achiever: a person with a record of successes; (wordnet.princeton.edu/perl/webwn)

Now that last one-"a person with a record of successes"- can be a real doozy. If I choose the Lord Jesus Christ as my role model, and I look at His life, I find that He has successes and yet He has what looks like... failures. After all, in one town, "He could do no miracle there except that He laid His hands on a few sick people and healed them" (Mark 6:5). For Jesus, doing a "few" miracles is an apparent failure compared to the great success He had in other towns. And we could go on and on about the many times Christ looked like a failure, when Jesus withdrew from the crowds (Conquerors never withdraw), when Jesus looked like a bloody, broken mess dying on the cross (Successful people avoid looking bad at all costs, don't they?).

"God called Jesus to what seemed absolute disaster...His life was an absolute failure from every standpoint except God's" writes Oswald Chambers. And that's the word we have to remember: standpoint. It's not a common word. It has to do with viewpoint, stance, mental attitude. It's a position you take from which you make your decision: is this the right thing to do? Is this what it means to succeed?

To succeed means to prevail and to win the victory. That's how I define success. "And this is the victory that overcomes the world-- even our faith" (1 John 5:4). Our faith in Him leads us to obey Him. Successful is the one who obeys. Successful is the one who trusts Him even though it looks like your ship is sinking. Job said, "Though He slay me, yet will I trust Him" and He was talking about what it felt like, what it looked like, when his world was falling apart. It can look like you are a failure- from the standpoint of one who trusts in attainment and fame. Or it can look like your world is shaky, your trophies have fallen, and yet your faith is still in the One who defines what success is for us.

Each time I trust when I want to fear, I am successful. Each time I reach out when it would be easier to pull back, I am successful. Each time I say, "Yes, Lord- even though I don't understand what You're doing", I have won the victory.

The Opportunity Before Me

I thought when I got back from vacation that I would be able to retain the newfound peace and sense of refreshment...but it's been a battle. Life comes at you with appointments, errands to run, children's needs to take care of, and you're flying all over the place taking care of these things when all of a sudden you realize your heart is racing, you're a bit agitated, and the sunny, peaceful beach days of vacation are long past. You could almost think you have to let go of what you gained. Almost. But I've decided that its mine to keep- the rest, the refreshment, the sense of contentment.

Even though this month of August is the THE month for change, for good-byes, for traveling, for visits, and for starting new things, it is still summer vacation. I've got to make sure I glean all I can out of the sun and the laughter and the taste of watermelon and the smell of sunscreen and sweat. "Summertime and the living is easy" that jazzy song tells us- but it's really not that easy to relax. It's doable, but not easy.

In about three weeks, my husband drives our son down to Kentucky for the beginning of his life away at college. Then a week after that, I fly down to Nashville to visit my niece. Then a week after that, I begin homeschooling our daughter. We have decided to go back to homeschooling her after two years of middle school education at a Christian school. It's going to be an interesting year, and possibly a bit quieter- with our son gone. (No more beating drums and blasting music). But one thing it will not be is routine. Everything is changing. There are more changes I will tell you about. And I've got to flex with it all.

"If I can stay calm, faithful, and unconfused while in the middle of the turmoil of life, the goal of the purpose of God is being accomplished in me. God is not working toward a particular finish- His purpose is the process itself" (My Utmost for His Highest 7/28). Now that "calm, faithful, and unconfused" part is a real mouthful. I normally don't major in calm (my husband does). I struggle with being faithful (but my dog, Harry, doesn't). But the unconfused part- well, that I am getting better at. I am no longer dismayed and floored by the changes and the suddenness of how life throws something new at you. This part- life's ups and downs- this part I expect. More than ever.

One life changing thing I learned from reading The Success Principles was to look at problems as an opportunity to learn something. And where there are problems, there's stress. And where there's stress, there's a need for surrender. "If you want to remain calm and peaceful as you go through life, you have to have high intention and low attachment. You do everything you can to create your desired outcomes, and then you let it go" writes Jack Canfield. And he is absolutely right.

But the letting go part is the killer. Acting as if you can trust God to take care of what you cannot is a beautiful expression of faith. But this is not beautiful as in "sittin' pretty". This is beautiful as in the praying, releasing, worrying and then praying and releasing all over again. This is work. This is the beautiful work of the Christian- "letting it go" into the hands of God.

When we let go of what is happening and our expectation of how something should turn out, we can look for the surprise God had in mind for us, rather than the expected Outcome we had wanted. Canfield says it best when he writes, "Instead of getting upset when things don't unfold as you anticipated, always ask yourself the question, 'What's the possibility that this is?'"

So many changes occurred in these last months that I could be very confused about what God wants from me. Or I could view all these changes and problems as opportunities, possibilities. There's always the possibility that God has something different in mind- different than what you were thinking.

I am quite uncertain about what God is doing, right now, in my life. But I am not confused as to his motive and His plan: God wants me to learn to "appropriate risk and uncertainty" (The Shack) and by learning to live with all that I don't know or understand, still be certain of His love, still be completely unconfused as to the fact that he is FOR me. He leads me. There's no doubt about that in my mind. He loves me- there's occasional bits of doubt about that, yes; because there are times that are not so loving and comfortable. But oh, the opportunity to grow and trust Him!

Awards and Acknowledgments

I'm a bit behind on acknowledging and accepting some beautiful blog awards recently given to me. In fact, I'm a bit behind on a lot of things. So that's what I've been doing since we came home from vacation: I've been catching up on odds and ends, things that must be done, and things that haven't been done that I've put off for quite a while.

One thing about the blog world that is so inspiring is the immediate communication and responses you get to your writing, to your thoughts. Being the mother of a semi-comatose (at times) 18 year old son who graces me with his appreciative responses to my acts of loving service (my mothering and my hovering over him) about once a year, I am touched by these two blog awards I've recently been given. Besides the awards, thank you just for talking to me!

Gi at You Can Hope2
has awarded me a beautiful award with a jazzy Spanish name- Arte Y Pico, which originated here at http://arteypico.blogspot.com/



"What is the meaning of the expression: Arte y Pico
What is the meaning of the expression: And basically, ironically, it translates into a wonderful phrase in Mexico, “lo maximo.” LOL! It will never find its counterpart in English, but if it HAD to, it would be something like, Wow. The Best Art. Over the top."

I'd like to pass this award on to four beautiful blogs that never fail to inspire, encourage, or wow me with their insights and their honesty (and ask that they pass the award on to 3-5 other blogs):

Random Redheaded Ramblings

Weighty Thoughts

Sonflower

This I Do

Then I received from Random Redheaded Ramblings
a colorful award called Robin's Red Award which came out of a personal experience she had with being noticed and identified as the creative, beautiful person she is. This award touched my heart, because I also had an experience with a teacher that changed my life because it changed how I viewed myself. I'll tell you about it sometime.
Thanks for the award Robin!

Quote for the Day

"Ah, that is the risk of faith, Mack.
Faith does not grow in the house of certainty."
-The Shack by William P. Young

Clam Chowder and Sunshine

We've been on vacation this week. I did not realize how shallow my breathing had become, how frantic and frenzied my pace was, how ready I was to take a week and slow the pace down to the thick slow drip of New England Clam chowder dripping off a spoon. That we've done nothing but read, sit at the beach, eat, play cards, laugh, eat, and read is a testament to the perfection of this vacation. Our family didn't really need a lot of entertainment or roller coaster rides or crowds of people. What we needed was family time, food, fun, and life at the pace of a hot summer day when you feel like your only responsibility is to live and love.

Instead of a phone constantly ringing in the background, I hear my kids cheerfully discussing the choice of ice cream or slushies. Or I should say that Abby, my daughter, is cheerfully discussing the choices and Alex is nodding slightly and without regard for her question because he has his headphones on and a book in his hand. His job, as a kid going off to college in a month, is to accommodate our time together as a family without letting on too much that he is enjoying himself.

I'm so relaxed. You would be too- if you were sitting at the beach and listening to the roar of the ocean, and feeling very small but loved. You see the ocean, hear it roar, wonder at its presence, and then remember that the God who created it is the God who has a plan for your life. You sit at the beach and see all the people, hear them, feel the sun beat down on your skin- and yet you are miles away in thought. You're feeling hope and you're starting to dream bigger. You're letting go of hurts and confusion. There are possibilities, endless possibilities, when you feel refreshed, rejuvenated...and loved.

Key Words for Today

Now. Today. Forgive. Give. Live.

Watch Me Dance

Sometimes just the sight of someone rejoicing and celebrating will provoke you to do the same- even if you think you don't currently have reason to celebrate. As one of my Mom's dear friends used to say, "It is never hypocritical to act the way God would want you to feel."

And so, last night, when my daughter and I returned from the movies (having used our two free tickets to see a musical that excelled in celebration even if it lacked in content), I waltzed into the house singing loudly and off-key and unashamedly. It felt so good to belt out a joyous sound, and I realized it's been a while since I majored in joy rather than in problem-solving.

Some people easily celebrate the little things in life, while others have to purpose in their heart to celebrate and rejoice. For some of us, celebrating and rejoicing can seem like a selfish, frivolous thing to do. But lately I've been learning that there is power in celebration. Mainly, I think, because celebration does not have to be done with all your ducks in a row, all your victories in plain sight. In fact, if you wait till you really think you have reason to celebrate, you might be waiting too long. You might go a long time without the wells of rejoicing springing up in your soul. And I know that I can't afford to be dried out. I can't make it if God's life-giving power to celebrate and overcome isn't manifesting in my life.

It's just like the verse that begins with "Believe in the Lord your God and you shall be established;..."(2 Chron. 20:20). The word "believe", here, means to be firm, stable, established. It's basically saying "Establish yourself in the Lord and you will be established." That's how powerful our belief, our conviction, is: it brings us in touch with the One who establishes us, who makes us stand tall and firm.

But you can apply this to the principle of celebration; especially the idea of celebrating by faith. Celebrate what God is doing in your life (even if you don't "see" it all) and you will feel like celebrating! Rejoice and you will be rejoicing. This isn't acting. This isn't fabricating the truth. This is manifesting the truth of which we do not yet see or feel. Because, remember:"It is never hypocritical to act the way God would want you to feel."

So today I'm celebrating breakthroughs and victories of all kinds. Things I don't even know yet. Because God is always up to something good in my life. It's just that sometimes you have to shout and rejoice and celebrate before you even see the victory.

The Way He Does It

I had a dream last night. That may not sound like an earth shattering event, but it can be a turning point in my life. You see, God often talks to me through dreams, and I usually dream almost nightly. But its been about a month or more since I've had a dream. It's been a month of so many changes and disappointments and momentous celebrations that signal a turning point in our life. During this time things got very quiet inside me. I was wrestling with hope and despair, clarity and confusion. I had not anticipated that I was going to go through such a strange season of strained relationships and radical changes.

"There is nothing miraculous or mysterious about the things we can explain. We control what we are able to explain, consequently it is only natural to seek an explanation for everything"(My Utmost for His Highest). But when we can't control whats happening around us, when we don't have an authoritative explanation or proclamation to calm the turbulent waters, things can get very troubled. We want everything we go through to be meaningful and useful for our spiritual growth. But often we don't see what's happening. We don't understand what's happening. We feel things are out of control and therefore that we are in a very precarious situation.

Here's how God speaks to my heart when it is beating fast and my eyes are looking heavenward with hope and confusion: He speaks to me through a dream. Last night's dream was about me explaining to a woman what had been going on in my life these last number of years. And I was not recounting my successes and my glorious moments. I was telling her about where we had felt lost, where we had failed, what moments we had wondered where God was.

This woman was an old acquaintance that I never knew that well. But I knew she represented spiritual integrity. She and her husband had been influential people in our life. My husband and I had connected with this couple in their passion to serve Christ, to take chances, to be authentic, and therefore to come across as very real, very human, and without all the answers.

So as we spoke to each other in my dream, there was this sense of me not having to explain why I was not further along than I was. There was a sense of peace about having had problems, delays, and times of disappointment. She asked me a couple of insightful questions that made me ponder a bit. And then we talked about what her needs were, what her hopes were, and she and I were smiling as she did this. Neither of us had all the answers. But we both had God as our guide. We felt good about that. We felt victorious about that.

So this morning I woke up and felt a burden lifted from my shoulders. God had arranged a very helpful counseling session for me, and it happened in a dream. It was miraculous. It was mysterious. I can't explain how I absorbed the grace, the hope, the clarity that God offered to me in this dream. But I can tell you that I love the way God loves me. When I feel like things are out of control, He mysteriously and miraculously comes to me and whispers insight and peace to my soul.

Verse for the Week

"Come to Me, all who are weary and heavy-laden,
and I will give you rest."
Matthew 11:28

Quote for the Day

"Do not think that love, in order to be genuine, has to be extraordinary.
What we need is to love without getting tired."
-Mother Theresa

He Leadeth Me

It often comes down to one word- expectation. What we expect, we look for. What we expect to receive, we get ready to receive: our hands are out, our hands are open, our eyes are raised heavenward.

My expectation, lately, has been that I will get through "this"; "this" referring to the flood of small take-downs that have occurred these last couple months. I got a call from the doctor the other day and he said, "You don't have Mono again; but you do have a very low red blood cell count. I can see why you almost fainted the other day." It was nice to have someone confirm that you are not a wilting violet of your own volition, but rather, sometimes life comes at you hard and you fall down.

"We fall down and we get up, we fall down and we get up; and the saints are just the sinners who fall down...and get up." Yes, that's the song for me, right now. That beautiful chorus is going through my mind- and with that soothing chorus going through my mind I won't let my heart be troubled by the events and disturbances I recently went through.

You see, I had asked God, several months ago, to confirm what direction I should take, where to go and what to do. I thought God was going to answer my request by leading me directly TO the right place, the right setting. But no, God decided to confirm the direction for me to take by confirming where I don't belong, what I should not be concentrating on, what isn't working in my life.

I never requested that God lead me through only positive events- but that's because I just didn't think that leading someone onward and upward would ever necessitate leading them through painful or negative circumstances. I just simply,and maybe naively, asked Him to lead me- and then some surprising encounters happened, some upsetting events occurred, and I was dismayed and surprised and floored by it all. I shouldn't have been. I should have expected that I would wind up quoting what Job said: "But He knows the way that I take; When He has tested me, I shall come forth as gold" (Job 23:10).

Why God deems it necessary to refine and try us, I'm not real sure. I do see that something glorious does happen when we are roughed up by upsetting events and difficult circumstances: I see that the troubling events we go through cause us to trust Him MORE. During these difficult times we often see Him more clearly because we are desperately looking for Him. These tough times are, indeed, tinged with His glory, and therefore could even be called glorious- because HE is WITH us, and He has something good in mind when we are tried and refined. He has a glorious outcome in mind.

God is not a Sadist. He takes no pleasure in our suffering. But He does take pleasure in seeing us learn to differentiate good from evil, and in our learning to value His help, value His perspective, and therefore not be dismayed when trouble rocks our boat. Trouble may rock our boat, but He guides the boat.

My boat has been rocking, lately. I've been surprised by difficult times- and my health is the least of the problems. Feeling faint and weak (part of being Anemic) only adds to me feeling needy and ready for God's help.

But feeling expectant that His help is coming- and that even though the going has been rough, that His help has already come- well, that makes me stay in my rocky boat with my hands stretched out, my eyes heavenward, expectant of His whisper of a wind that will nudge my boat onward, safely, to the shore.

Quote for the Day

"The Christian life is gloriously difficult,
but its difficulty does not make us faint and cave in-
it stirs us up to overcome."
(My Utmost for His Highest)

Celebrating the Victory

There were ups and downs, highs and lows, over the weekend- but there was no rain on Sunday, the day we all gathered to celebrate a milestone in our son's life. The days preceding the party were emotionally charged and there were a couple upsetting incidents that clouded our joy. So on Sunday morning, early in the morning, as I laid in bed and looked at at the cloudy sky, I whispered a pleading prayer, "Please God, please- don't let it rain today. Let it be a sign that everything is not always all uphill."

Now that's a dangerous prayer. First of all, because God doesn't have to stop the rain just to make you feel better. Someone may be praying for rain in the house next door to you, and then what does God do?! Secondly, I was asking out of weariness and frustration- not necessarily out of faith.

But God can handle how and why I ask Him for what I do- and God parted the clouds and allowed the sun to come out. There wasn't a drop of rain. Mu, my best friend, arrived at the party early in the evening and told me it was raining at her house (several miles away)- but it wasn't raining at my house.

People gathered on our deck outside, talking and sipping cold drinks. My son was beaming with happiness at the number of people who kept coming. There were new friends, neighbors, school friends and family members. Old friends of our family arrived early, and looked forward to meeting with my parents. But would my Mom come? She's been battling depression and it has been fierce. But there she was, frail and beautiful, smiling tentatively, walking through my front door with loved ones at her side holding her up.

That's what we do when we fall down- we hopefully get held up by love, by loved ones who come rushing in when the wind goes out of our sails. Or in my case, when the knees grow suddenly weak and you're about to faint. I got sick right int he middle of the party. One minute I was chatting with people, feeling a bit ill, and the next minute I was rushing to the bathroom. Due to the heat and having not eaten all day and the emotional upheaval I had been through prior to the party, I suddenly felt the world swim. I became violently ill and wound up lying in bed. Different people came rushing in to check on me. My younger sister took over and began serving food. A dear friend started washing dishes that had piled up in the sink. My husband went out and chatted with guests after I whispered, "Just say that I'm resting for a minute. I'll be right out."I was weak, but people were strong for me. The party went on.

I thought it was heat exhaustion and nausea due to not eating all day and then drinking a few sips of too-sweet-iced tea. But today, several days after the party, I am still feeling ill. It feels like I have Mono again. I'll go get checked out at the doctor's. It's not that big of a deal.

What was a big deal was the day we celebrated my son's graduation from high school. That day was a challenge and it was wonderful. That day was exhausting and it was exhilarating. That day there were people in and around my house, pulling into the driveway, playing music down in our opened garage, milling around the yard, smiling and feasting on food that disappeared quickly. In fact, I ran out of food. But we never ran out of victory. We never ran out of grace. The skies held back the rain, but God let grace, like rain, fall down and we celebrated the victory of being loved by Him.

Amazing, Truly Amazing

Just found out it may rain off and on most of Sunday, and that's when I'm having over fifty people over to celebrate our son's high school graduation. I had hoped there would be sunshine, flowers blooming, music playing, people strolling over the grounds with a cold soda in hand, teenagers playing volleyball in the backyard. But no, I think we may instead hear rumbles of thunder, see the rain pour down, and feel very very connected that day- perspiring, hot people crammed into our small house, balancing a plate and a drink in hand, smiling and sweating and intently trying to celebrate this milestone in our lives. What loved ones do for each other- it's amazing.

But loved ones also often hurt each other. We bicker, quarrel, bring up the past and resurrect certain "issues"- hot spots if you want to call them that- and these issues can resurface and have to be dealt with over and over again. It can be a hurt from the past, a memory of someone failing you, or a sensitive spot in your heart when a certain word is brought up. Sometimes Family Get Togethers are like volcanoes that decide to suddenly erupt- and you thought it would, you tried to warn those around you that you had a feeling it would erupt- and then, sure enough, it does. What loved ones do to each other- it's amazingly painful.

I keep telling myself- sometimes in a voice of wonder and sometimes in a trembling voice- "God can handle it." I know He is never shocked by outbursts and break downs and fights and fears. He is the One you can go to and say, "I feel a volcano in me about to erupt, and I know its better that we talk first before I talk with anyone else." That's when you'll feel God's hand of approval on you: not because you came to Him all clean and perfect and in complete control, but because you came to Him with a mess on your hand and fear in your heart and stumbling feet...but you came to Him nevertheless. You came to Him because that declaration of faith was running though your mind, firing up your heart in belief- "God can handle it." What God does for us- it's truly amazing.

"I am the LORD, the God of all mankind. Is anything too hard for me?" Jer. 32:27