The loss of so many things... But God is still GOoD!

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As a follow-up to the previous post.. this post shows a glimmer of a few feelings that were typed out, but never posted on the date indicated... It's just a glimpse of where I've been traveling on this 2011 journey's road...

April 23, 2011

So much is going on. So many things has my eyes perputually leaking; it's a continual spill, an incessant weeping. So many things has my heart bleeding from a sorrowing hurt. An ache that won't quit. A ruptured torturing. An uncontrollable hemorrhaging. There's so much we have no control over. So many "endings" to things that are hard to give up... and that are hard to imagine living life without. It's been wild. Relentless. Ravashing. An unyielding pursuit of a devouring enemy. Any one of them in itself could be a spiraling depression to most. And yet, God is still GOoD! He still fills me full! I still feel (and am) so hugely wonderfully blessed. He still thrills me, whoas me, enamors me, endears me. He's still Sovereign. He's still The Great I Am! He still has a plan and a purpose and knows what He's doing. Each day ordained for me that's been written in His book before even one of them began is still right on schedule ,it hasn't been thwarted. He still knows better than we do. And I still trust Him in all that is happening.

Two weeks ago (against all of our want-to) we lost a very dear friend to the very aggressive and ravishingly devastating disease of cancer. Two months ago our company closed to bankruptcy. And in the current moment we have a great-nephew (Asher) who's in the hospital... and a daddy that's just gotten out and went home to Hospice. (Just to name a few... some are still too tender to speak of.)

Asher was born 6 weeks early and has been fighting for his life since he's been here. He's doing better now. And things on his part look much more hopeful than they first did. But still, his mom has yet to get to hold him. And she aches not only from the want, but from the need inside her that begs her to.

My daddy's so sick. He hurts so badly. He lives in misery. He can hardly whisper. He constantly asks in the tiniest, tiniest breathless whisper, "Help me... Help me... Help me..." because of his pain. He can't eat. Can't swallow at all (not even his saliva, we're having to suction it out). He's losing blood from who knows where (normal blood count is 12, his was a 6; it's considered severe at 7). He's so swollen. He needs to, but can't go to the bathroom. His back is unbearable. His breathing so labored. His such a modest person, and yet all dignity is being robbed.

UGH, I keep thinking, THIS AIN'T NO WAY TO LIVE! 

Last Saturday they put in a feeding tube inside him, which at first he refused to have, but panic forced him to give in. He needs the tube, not just for food, but to get his Parkinson's medicine... which hopefully will make his swallowing possible again. Now he's regretting he agreed to it. He's afraid the tube will keep him alive forever in this same horrific state that he's in, but never help him to get any better... instead just prolong his agony. 

He needs open heart surgery. He needs back surgery. He has Parkinson's. And they're afraid that his colon cancer has come back. They can't do heart surgery because of his back. They can't do back surgery because of his heart. They can't do anything more than they're doing for the Parkinson's. And we don't even want to know if we want to know or not if his cancer's returned.

I don't know the answers. What I do know is that this hellish hurt is not what I'd want for myself. It's awful to watch him suffering. I don't want him to go, I can't imagine him not here, but I don't want him to have to live like he's living.

But you know, with all of the losses, I keep thinking that we've got it so backward.... we're not living for this life... but for the next one. Yet, it's so hard to let one leave! Our days are still numbered... and God, for each of us, ordered and ordained each one. He knows when our days on this earth are done. And we can't even imagine what it's like finally seeing our Savior face-to-face. Wonder what exactly it is that my friend (that just left this earth for his Heavenly Home) sees now, that we have yet to?

I keep remembering these scriptures....

"There is a time
for everything,

and a season
for every activity under heaven;

a time to be born

and a time to die,

a time to plant

and a time to uproot,

a time to kill

and a time to heal,

a time to tear down

and a time to build up,

a time to weep

and a time to laugh,

a time to mourn

and a time to dance,

a time to scatter stones

and a time to gather them,

a time to embrace

and a time to refrain,

a time to search

and a time to give up,

a time to keep

and a time to throw away,

a time to tear

and a time to mend,

a time to be silent

and a time to speak,

a time to love

and a time to hate,

a time for war

and a time for peace.

What does the worker gain for his toil?

I have seen the burden God has laid on men.

He has made everything beautiful
in its time.

He has also set eternity
in the hearts of men;

yet
they cannot fathom
what God has done
from beginning
to end."



But then, after remembering all those times, my mind keeps these particular times rolling around inside it, "There's a time to be born..... and a time to die.... a time to uproot..... a time to tear down..... a time to weep...... and a time  to mourn... "

Those are the times that I'm in.

I don't like the time.

I'm scared of it.

Indeed, there is a time for this and a time for that... but never a time to hold time back time. And some "times" are so much harder than others! Some "times" we'd all hold back and keep from coming completely if we could! We'd like to avoid them, simply skip over them, detour around them, and stop our clocks from ticking and landing on them.

In the midst of our "die" time (because whether we want it or not, or admit to it or not, it is what "time" our clocks are reading), it's comforting to know that whether we like the time or not, the time is still controlled by The Time Holder. And He still "makes beautiful" in His time! And in our time, we "cannot fathom what God has done (and is doing) from beginning to end." His plans are GOoD! He has purpose and reason. And our minds cannot imagine what our God is doing in the midst of our dark!

I think that my mom after dad's death knows that she'll feel much like the psalmist said in Ps 39:7, "But now, Lord, what do I look for?...", "Now Lord, for what do I wait?"

And then, even when being able to know her answer, "My hope is in You".... "My hope is in Thee".... her hope is focused on him (little "h"...not the Big One). 

God IS our Hope! Ultimately, only Him and Him alone. With no better hope to be had. And that being so, when we're in the midst of our wearing it, we can ask ourselves what another psalmist asked, (Ps 42:5-6; 77:1-15), "Why are you downcast, O my soul? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise Him, my Savior and my God. My soul is downcast within me; therefore I will remember You......... I cried out to God for help; I cried out to God to hear me. When I was in distress, I sought the Lord; at night I stretched out untiring hands and my soul refused to be comforted. I remembered You, O God, and I groaned; I mused, and my spirit grew faint. Selah. You kept my eyes from closing; I was too troubled to speak. I thought about the former days the years of long ago; I remembered my songs in the night. My heart mused and my spirit inquired: "Will the Lord reject forever? Will He never show His favor again? Has His unfailing love vanished forever? Has His promise failed for all time? Has God forgotten to be merciful? Has He in anger withheld His compassion?" Selah. Then I thought, "To this I will appeal: the years of the right hand of the Most High." I will remember the deeds of the LORD; yes, I will remember Your miracles of long ago. I will meditate on all Your works and consider all Your mighty deeds. Your ways, O God, are holy, what god is so great as our God? You are the God who performs miracles; You display Your power among the peoples. With Your mighty arm YOU REDEEMED Your people...."

And she longs (again) for His miracle!

But expects and dreads that it won't be in keeping him here. Deep down inside she already foresees that our God has plans to take him Home.

But! He does redeem! He heals our hurts! He mends our brokenhearts. He puts our pieces back together again. He makes beautiful from the ashes that burn. He makes a Display of His Splendor in all that we go through after He's worked it ALL out FOR good!

It's not easy. But our God's good. And though our spouses might, He's not left us. And He's not forsook. And in all that He takes and all that He's took... in all of His sifting and refining... He has something when finished splendid to reveal in us! Jesus! Simply Jesus!

Oh Lord, when it boils down to it, it's all we need and all we want. Though You slay us, yet will we still hope in You! Our Redeemer LIVES... how our hearts yearn within to SEE Him and the redeeming He's specifully got planned!

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Since writing that, my daddy's left this place and now lives in the presence of the Lord that he's lived his life loving. He left here and moved there on my sweet son's 18th birthday. Boy, that was hard! We're happy for him, thrilled for him, but miss him greatly! He's stayed on our minds. As my mama said, "It doesn't matter if we're talking about the whales in the fartherest oceans, the blackbirds in the far away lands, the missionaries in Tibet, or three-legged animals in Africa's animal kingdom... it all goes back to him. Every thing said or every thought thunk... everything comes back to Sonny." And yes, it is that way for her especially, isn't it? Everything now pivots around him. Her thoughts are separated, he envades each one..

My youngest daughter was cleaning the other day and found a poem she once wrote in a class. It was beautiful! I felt it perfect! It's what I'll end with. It's about tears. Her last line's my favorite!

A Taste of Sadness

by: Sabrina Wynn Lee

Cold. Wet.

Is the way that it feels.

Running down,

Hitting the ground.

It brings out pain.

Pain that no one would ever know.

A secret between it and I.

Most times it's because I'm sad.

Other times could be because I'm glad.

A sweet and bitter taste it brings.

Running down.

Hitting the ground.

So much pain.

So much hurt.

A tear is all but words.

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The Lord gives.... and He takes away

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It's been a challenging 2011.

I have a friend in the throes of the frustration of trying to sale her home (I do not envy her, it is its own hard); and while they are trying to sale theirs, my mama is trying to figure out how to keep hers (She more than likely (unless God performs a great miracle ~~ which He so very much can if He wants to) won't). She's so alone, so scared, so overwhelmed, so uncertain, so "lost" (as she puts it).... so has no idea what's she doing or what to do. She misses my daddy so very much and the security that she had in him. She hates that he's gone when she needs him so! But then again, it's not really our daddys or our husbands or our (whoevers) that is our security at all. Only God. But, too, it sure is nice to sometimes have someone with skin on to do the scary things in life with, rather than feeling so all by yourself alone when the scary things are happening.

There's so much that I've yet to write about concerning my year. This has been such a hard one... for so many reasons! Daddy's death tips the top of the scale... but there are loads more lesser hards that are daily ones all still affecting our worlds. The main reason I've not blogged about it is because it's been too hard to speak of. I suppose if I could have hidden daddy's hurt (the hurt feelings felt in his sickness and death) under the rug, I would have failed to speak of that too to all those who knew. I would have held the hurt all by myself longer. I would have rocked it and nursed it not telling a soul, and cried in my stilled insaned-yet saned silence, cocooned in hurt's hole and sadly sorrowing alone. I didn't have that option, it was too open, too loud, too exposed, too 'everybody knew'.... But I probably would have if I were given the alternative. It's what I do... ball up in solitary muteness, weeping unaccompanied in my lone-confinement, travailing quietly in my labored detention all by myself inviting no one else in with me... until I've healed a bit and its hurt is less tender.

Ugh, I don't know that I do very hurt well. :)

I cannot tell you how much I've thought of Elisha and his feelings on the day that he knew that Elijah would on that very day be taken by God (2 Kings 2). Over and over everywhere he went the prophets would remind him, "Do you know the Lord is going to take your master from you today?"... and his reply each time was always the same, "Yes, I know. But do not speak of it!" There are things "I know" too.... that I don't feel ready to "speak of." Things that God has already took.... but things, too, that He is going to take from us that He's not taken just yet.

My daddy was taken.

And that's how I felt about him. On the very day that the Hospice nurse gave him 24 to 48 more hours to live, I heard her saying as Elisha did, "Do you know that the Lord is going to take your daddy from you today?".... And I wanted to tell her, "Yes, I know. But do not speak of it!" Another version, "Be quiet about it!" Another, "Yes, I have knowledge of it: say no more!" Another, "I also know it. But be silent!"

I knew. But I wanted her to hush. I didn't want her to verbalize it. I didn't want to hear the words. I wanted to be childish and sing, "nah nah nah nah nah nah..." with my hands held tightly over my ears. I wasn't ready to hear them. The vocalizing of it was harshly too painful.

Yet even in our sorrow of my father being "taken", we KNOW that he was "taken" from here only to be taken to a better Home! Still, the loss is hard! The being left behind is devastating! The knowing of where he is pampers our feelings tremendously... but the knowing of where he is not, and the one that is here left without him, is an excruciating agony daily that won't quit its anguishing.

Before my daddy, earlier this year, our company (my daddy's construction company of 35 years) was "taken."

But woe... not without a fierce fight!!!!!!!! We did everything that we possibly could to keep that boat afloat. But the storms that raged against it, the continual winds that wouldn't fail in its blow, finally succeeded in huffing and puffing and puffing and huffing until finally knocking that house of ours down. We mourn its loss! It was a financial security to many (though we've established earlier that our only real security only is in God). Due to the recession, the lack of jobs available (might we say NONE!), the spiraling economy, we couldn't keep it living. For months (as we fought) we watched the organs slowly shutting down. It's death was a devastation to many. What it once offered, it offers no more. And with its ruin, like the sinking Titanic, it took so much more with it than just its hull when it went down.

So many faithful employees that we'd grown to love lost their jobs, their income, their way to make a living. I lost mine. My daddy (before his death) lost his. My sister. My brother-in-law. My uncle. Our friends. And, adding to that loss for my sister and her husband (vice-presidents in the company), they lost their house, as well. Might I say, it's been a humbling season!

Daddy's sickness prolonged the devouring destruction for my parents. But now that daddy's not here anymore, the jaws of that post-poned lion is reaching out to my mom trying to devour her. Like I said, she'll probably lose her house too. Not only that, when the company went down, it took with it any and all of the insurance policies that my daddy had. Meaning, my mom at dad's death was financially left with nothing.

Talk about hard! She not only doesn't know how to do life without her husband anymore... but she's also wondering how in the world to now do life without a living?

Earlier still... before daddy, before the company.... my husband and I (due to a quick "short-sale gone bad" on a Gatlinburg cabin) filed bankruptcy (Chapter 13). Ugh, how I hate that word! Never have I imagined that I would be wearing it! In order to keep our house, we were basically forced into it. The saving grace of that one is (like all of the others), is that we didn't have to decide, because of the circumstances it couldn't be helped and thus was basically decided for us. Still, I don't know that that makes it any easier. It was another blow, a huge hit from the enemy, I feel like we've been in the fighting ring.... our bones (bones we didn't even know we had before) have been broken, our noses and lips are profusely bleeding. Someone get us a towel, some water, some bandages... but don't forget to stitch us up first! Be tender! Because we hurt!

Another one of my sisters, her  husband is threatening divorce... which if that happens would leave another sister without a home. It's my feeble mom though, that's been hit the hardest. Newly widowed (after 56 years!), soon to be homeless, and basically broke... there's not much left in her bank. We're studying the Book of Ruth in class on Sundays. I see my mom when I look at Naomi. Or, I now see Naomi, when I see my mom. She's not Job, though she resembles him. It could be worse. But she's feeling a greater compassion for Job, and she's feeling a little as if she's walking in some of his shoes.

All that...and still.... though this year has been unspeakably hard, the wonder and awe of God's blessings have been threaded all through. We couldn't have done life without Him! We've seen His sweetness. We've experienced His GOoDness. We've sustained on His mercy, His love, His compassion, His grace, His shepherding, His provison every day! He's shown up in corners and crevices and in cracks and crannies that we've never seen Him before. He's done the most precious things. He's been all over the place. Through it all, He's not hidden His face. We've seen Him! And we've been whoa-ed too many times to number in so many things that He's done! Little things! Big things! And all kinds of in-between things! The list is endless! And still it continues. How can we complain, when He's loved us so?

It's been hard. It's hard still. But "Fear thou not... I will strengthen thee... I will help thee...." And I believe Him! He has. And He will.

My wonders of Him never cease... even in our "take away" season.........

In our "I don't know"s... He does! And that's how, at night, I can lay my head down peacefully to sleep. He gives me songs in the night, songs of deliverance... and, again, as I said before, I hear Him whisper (for me, but also very much for my mom), "Fear thou not... I will strengthen thee... I will help thee.... I will strengthen thee... I will help thee.... I'll help thee.... I'll help thee... I'll help thee.....  I will ..... I will..... I will........ I will.............."
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Is your love "real"?

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A Wedding Blessing for Blake & Savannah – Dec 30, 2006

EXCERPT FROM THE VELVETEEN RABBIT
~ By Margery Williams ~

"What is REAL?" asked the Rabbit one day, when they were lying side by side near the nursery fender, before Nana came to tidy the room. "Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?"

"Real isn't how you are made," said the Skin Horse. "It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but really loves you, then you become Real."

"Does it hurt?" asked the Rabbit.

"Sometimes," said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. "But when you are Real you don't mind being hurt."

"Does it happen all at once, like being wound up," he asked, "or bit by bit?"

"It doesn't happen all at once," said the Skin Horse. "You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get all loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand."

Savannah & Blake, may you both be committed to love each other till and when and after

 you’ve become very shabby, your hair has been loved off,

you’ve become loose in the joints, and your eyes begin to droop.

May you realize that “real isn’t how you’re made,” but “it’s a thing that happens” to you…

when you’ve been loved for a “long, long time,”

not because you’re fun “to play with” any more

nor because you’re cute,

but “real” happens after loving through the good times and the bad, the hard times just as well as the easy… till you “become.”

Sometimes “real” is hard, sometimes it hurts, but may you really love to really become Real.

Know that seasons will come…… AND they will GO! (God says that there is a time and a season for every thing).. note the keyword “season” here… for seasons come… but they only last for its season.

May you weather the wind and the rain, the storms, the heat, and the drought

until you get past your season… for God makes everything beautiful in its time… if you’ll let Him.

Blake, just as you are a soldier in the army, serving your country and fighting for its freedom; may you and Savannah both be soldiers, mighty warriors in God’s army. Serving Him well and knowing that He is with you and fights for you in the battle. Realizing the truth that our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against an evil darkness and its powers. Be strong in the Lord and in His mighty power. When things get hard - fight for each other, fight for your marriage, fight for your sons, and for your daughters. Life is a fight… may you win its battle!

May God be able to say of you two as He once said of King David that you both are men after His Own heart. 

May you be blessed with a home filled with children… sharing God’s story from generation to generation.

May everything that you undertake to do be in service to God and in obedience to Him.

Seeking Him and working wholeheartedly to bring Him Glory.

May you live together building the sanctuary of your home into a temple built for His name.

May God Himself be “a wall of fire around it, and may He be its glory within.”

May you both be God’s Lights in a dark world.. and a Hope for those that don’t know Him.

May you see in each other the song that waits to be sung and seek to bring out its music.

When you talk about your spouse, may you color your pictures of each other as beautiful, and frame them, share them with others, and look at them often.

May you:

Listen.

Dance.

Laugh.

Sing.

Love.

And Forgive

……… A LOT!

It takes the bigger man to say “I’m sorry” first… may you BOTH be BIG!

May you always be partners in the same dance... committed to writing your stories in the same book.

The Skin Horse in The Velveteen Rabbit story was so old that his brown coat was bald in patches and showed the seams underneath, most of the hairs on his tail had been pulled out, as he explained to the Rabbit what "Real" is.  "The Boy's Uncle made me Real," he said. "That was a great many years ago; but once Real you can't become unreal again. It lasts for always." May you both be committed to becoming “Real”… and may your “Real” last together for always.

Savannah & Blake, you two together… with God first… Three in One acCord. 

(Click to read: The Velveteen Rabbit in its entirety online. It shows a good description of what "real" is and what true "love" is supposed to be.)

This is old... something written for a friend years ago... but after my previous post about my parents, this has been resonating inside my mind. Finally, I thought I'd just share it........

And Bridget, if you are reading this, I'd thought you'd love to see it yourself to remind us all again of that precious moment.... watching and witnessing as your child vowed "to love and to cherish" from this day forward! And woe! "Cherish" is its own precious word!!!!!!!! One worth pondering and meditating upon! All that have previous taken the vow should ask themselves, "Do I still C-H-E-R-I-S-H the one that I've wed?"! Woe... so love it!

• Cherish: to feel love for; to care for; to treasure. To be fond of; to be attached to. To hold dear; to embrace with interest; to indulge; to encourage; to foster, to promote; to treat with tenderness and affection; to nurture with care; to protect and aid. To keep or cultivate with care; to entertain or harbor in the mind deeply and resolutely... savoring, loving, adoring.

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My daddy moved... and I MISS seeing my father's face!

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But woe!.. at the "move" that he made!

I just wish for a moment that I could run for a visit. My mama so very, very, very much misses him too! I'm sure, a zillion times more than I ever do!

We talked about him today. But then again, when lately do we not? He's the subject of our minds. Our pivotal focus. Especially what her mind is fastly fixed upon.

They were married for 56 years! Something to boast about and be proud of in today's world. How thrilled I am that they stayed together. That they stuck it out no matter the mood or the madness of the moment. For better or for worse. For richer or for poorer. In good times and in bad. In joy as well as sorrow. In sickness and in health. To love and to cherish. Til death do us part.

They promised that. And that's exactly what they did.

They had their share of "better" times... and their share, too, of "worse"! They enjoyed a lot of "rich"... and trudged through the stressing seasons of "poor." There was a load of "good times"... and they stuck it out through the "bad." They basked in the "joy".... and sowed tears (sometimes feeling alone and sometimes  t(w)ogether) in their "sorrow" and still made it through. The "healthy" days were greatly cherished..... because there was so much "sick." And through it all... "to love and to cherish" (even when fury tempted and rage bellowed) is just how they lived.

Until....

"Til death do us part"...

Death did just that. It parted their "us".

You fail to hear those words and realize them while vowing aloud the words that the minister has you repeating. But hearing them today, thinking of them today, they ring in my ears. "Until death do us PART!" Oh! That there dare ever has to be such "part"ing!

The tearing a-"part" is excruciating. Once you've lived together for that long, you don't have a thought without the other. You're "one"..... and somehow that "one" is torn into "two".... when there's no more a "two" to tear. I know my mom can go on. But still at this point, she wonders how she can do life for the rest of hers without him? Such anguish is torturing. Agony consumes her. Fear trembles her. A vacancy envelopes her. The "hole" left inside her hurts!

I do miss my dad. And sometimes... even though she's here, I so miss my mama too!

She's (we've!) had so much loss this year! And the season for "taking" ("the Lord gives and takes away") seems far from over yet. The taking is still being took. I'm sure she feels a glimpse of Job. She finds herself in some ways, walking Naomi's same road.

And yet with Job and Ruth and Naomi and Joseph.... their lives didn't end in their despair. Though it felt often and long as if it wasn't, there still existed in the distress: hope! Hope in a Savior that saves! Hope in a Redeemer that still lives and lives to redeem... and that is the same today as He will be tomorrow and was in yesterday.

Oh wow, I miss that father of mine! And my mama misses that man that she married! She misses the one she said "I do" to... and she still wants to "do" as much as she ever did! But it's not this life that we're living here for.... for it's here that we're preparing for the move to the next one! OH, at the move that my daddy's made! He's been packing his bags and been readying for that Place for years. He just moved ealier than we had wanted him to. And mostly, I guess, we hate that he made the move without us. Oh, for when we'll see him again! And there in that Home that he lives... with another Father, the Father we long more than ever to feast our eyes upon in a real live face-to-face forever!

What a Day that will be... when I see my real Father's face!
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She was dead when I met her....

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She was really cute though... for a dead person.


I didn't understand the lack of concern for her deadness from all of the people all around her. Every single one of them seemed more focused on their "issues"... their irritants... their schedules... and the weather than whether she was alive or not. And sadly, if I admitted it and were completely honest, I'd gotten used to it too... my eyes failed to see "dead" so easily as they should. I'd been around it too much and too long. I'd grown accustomed to it. It was common. It didn't really bother me much.

But.

My failure to care was starting to bother me. It was easier not to care... but that ease didn't make it right to.

She was really cute though... for a dead person. She didn't know that she was dead when I met her... and I wasn't sure how to go about telling her that she was dead. How do you convince a person that doesn't know? Or... maybe something somewhere somehow deep inside was already telling her? Yeah.... thinking about it, I'm sure that it was/is. It's in our make-up to. It's how we're made. We don't know. But then again, something else inside seriously knows that "deadness" isn't right... and it knows that real "life" is missing!

And even then.... the conversation that I did have with the "dead" girl... was about the item she was purchasing, how hot it was outside, and her plans for the upcoming weekend. I liked her! She had loads of personality! But ouch, her language was painful! We're told that "you will know them by their fruit"... let's just say, her "fruit" was showing and you didn't have to play the guessing game and wonder. It was easily "known" from what she said and how she chose to say it.

I finished my purchase, turned and left, then it dawned on me...

Ugh! I blew it! I let an opportunity to give Life pass me by.... pass her by..... because I was busy, I didn't think about it, I was distracted with buying my own item, and in total (horrible) truthfulness, it never even crossed my mind to.

Father, forgive me for my blindness... and forgive me for my heart that's obviously too cold to care for the perishing.

"The fields are ready to harvest, but the workers are few"... perhaps it's because the "workers" are too self-absorbed without even meaning to be?

Oh wow... like I said, she was really cute (even being dead)... but woe, Lord, why didn't I care more than I did?

I love what we read that Andrew did when he found the Savior, "The first thing Andrew did was to find his brother Simon and tell him, "We have found the Messiah!"" And us? How about us? Me? You? What do we do? How quick or apt are we to run to tell another?

You know, how could we really? We go about our busyness. We get our fast foods. We order our Starbucks. We read our books. We watch our shows. We go out to eat. We go to ballgames. We wonder what we'll wear to that event coming up. We doo our hair. We bleach our teeth. We paint our faces. We have our nails done. And as I said earlier, we dare to TALK ABOUT THE WEATHER!!!..... When all around us people are walking around.... "dead" people.... not even realizing they're dead..... and we go on with our living. We're too consumed in oblivion to care to take much notice. OR, maybe, just maybe, we'll decide to pray for them... when never saying a word to them while given the perfect opportunity!?!

"But I tell you, on the day of judgment men will have to give account for every idle (inoperative, nonworking) word they speak." - Matthew 12:36.

Was this one of those times that God was talking about when He said such?

Hmmm... it's only after the embalming that it's too late to do anything else but to bury her. BUT... while she's still walking and talking?....... what do you say to the "dead" person when you're given the moment and they're standing right next to ya? Could it be that God specifically placed and put them there for that second in front of you on purpose? So that you'd do something? Say something? Make mention of Him to them? What would Jesus do if He were you and He were there when He saw her? (He's inside you, you know? He still wants to work!)

Do we even see them.. or truly even care that they're dead? Why such true lack of concern from all of us that are living? How subtly the enemy wins keeping God's people so complacently distracted.

Lord, open our eyes to see! Give us super-natural hearts to LOVE them!... because Love doesn't "not do"... Love has to do something!

She was dead. And I didn't even offer her breath, I didn't even attempt to resuscitate her, I didn't share with her the news of the Life that I've been given that breathes and gives Life eternal. It wasn't too late in my moment.... but sadly now, I'll probably never see her again...........

Oh Lord, where I failed You... and her! Oh Lord, send someone else!... Someone that sees! Someone that loves! Someone that cares! Someone that shares!.... And help me next time, to be that "someone else" that I now wish I was.
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Can you answer the questions He asked?

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I LOVE that our Savior was one who asked questions. I love that His purpose was/is to provoke the thoughts within us to search within ourselves so that we can know the answer to which He's asking. Here are a few that we find engraved on the Holy Writ of His Scripture....... OH, how I LOVE His WORD!

 1 - “Where are you?”  (Gen 3:9)

 2 - “Where have you come from? And where are you going?” (Gen 16:8)

 3 - “Who told you that you were naked?” (Gen 3:11)  

 4 - “Have you eaten from the tree of which I commanded you not to eat?” (Gen 3:11)

 5 - “What is this you have done?” (Gen 3:13)

 6 - “Why are you angry?” And why has your countenance fallen? If you do well, will you not be accepted?” (Gen 4:6)

 7 - “Why do you call Me, ‘Lord, Lord’ and don’t do what I say?” (Luke 6:46)

  8 - “Why are you troubled, and why do doubts rise in your minds?”  (Luke 24:38-39)

 9 - “Why question Me?” (John 18:20-21)

10 - “Do you love Me?” (John 21:15)

11 - “Have I been so long with you,… , and you don’t know Me?” (John 14:9)

12 – “Who touched Me?” (Luke 8:45)

13 - “Why are you crying?” (John 20:13)

14 - “What are you doing here?” (1 Kings 19:9)

15 - “What is it that you want?”  (John 1:37-39)

16 - “Who is it that you are looking for?”  (John 20:15)

17 - “What do you want Me to do for you?”  (Matt 20:32-33)

18 - “Do you want to get well?”  (John 5:6)

19 - “Why do you doubt?”  (Matt 14:31)

20 - “Who made man…?”  (Exo 4:11)

21 - “Is My arm too short to save?”  (Isa 59:1)

22 - “Is anything too hard for the Lord?”  (Gen 18:14 / Jer 32:27)

23 - “If God is for us, who can be against?”  (Rom 8:3)

“Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own?”  (Matt 7:3-4)

 “Why are you bothering this woman?”  (Matt 26:10)

“Where is your brother?”  (Gen 4:9)

 “Why are you persecuting Me?”  (Acts 9:4)

“If you love those who love you, what reward will you get? Are not even the tax collectors doing that? And if you greet only your brothers, what are you doing more than others? Do not even pagans do that?   (Matt 5:46-48)

“Lord, what about him?” ---- “What is that to you?”   (John 21:21-23)

 “Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life? Since you cannot do this very little thing, why do you worry about the rest?”  (Luke 12:24-26)

“What are you discussing together as you walk along the road?”  (Luke 24:17)

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She doesn't cry....

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It was sad... all that she said in prison last night. It was hard to know what to say back to her. Some times answers aren't easily given. Some times solutions don't want to be heard. Some times people just need to spill, they only need you to listen. I think tonight was one of those.

We were talking about "adult children"....  Adults that never had a childhood due to the dysfuntional family they grew up in. She told us that that's what she was. She had "every trait in the listing. Pick one. Pick all of them. Every one of them has my name on it and defines me."

She said she doesn't cry... and that she hasn't cried for years. She doesn't know how to. And she's afraid to, even if she did. She wasn't allow to cry as a child. It wasn't permissible. And so now, she won't allow herself. Ever. For any reason. For anything.

She was mad when she said it. She was mad. She was mad. She was mad! She was so mad! Bitter that her tears had been stolen. Angered over the feelings that no longer have feeling. She'd gone through so much. And add to a rough childhood, she was military, she'd fought in a couple of wars. She watched friends die. Bunkmates get blown up. Bullets splattering all around her. She didn't cry then either. And, she said, that she doubted that she'd ever cry again.

Oh, at the gift of a tear! Whoever would think to be so thankful for the wetness of water sliding down one's cheek because of the liquidized feeling that sent it? Feelings hurt sometimes, but I'd rather be tendered to tears by a feeling.... than to daily be more hardened and calloused and more embittered by one because it won't produce it. We're told that "laughter is the best medicine." Maybe that's so? But maybe, sometimes, tears are too?

Last night as I lay on my bed, I begged God to send tears and to help Gerri to cry! I asked Him to fallow the ground and send rain to water the hardness that's become so dry in her insides.

"Sow for yourselves righteousness; reap steadfast love; break up your fallow ground, for it is the time to seek the LORD, that He may come and rain righteousness upon you" - Hos 10:12.
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Oh Lord, You're not my servant... I am to be Yours!

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How backward we too often have it. And woe, without knowing or realizing that we've even do so! How quickly we become disoriented! Hang with me hear a minute, and let me give you an example.

I was reading in a book yesterday that told of a respected Christian physician in the early 1900s named Walter Wilson. Dr. Wilson had a deep love of Scripture. He diligently studied the Bible, applying himself to doing everything he found in God's Word. And though, doing all of that, despite of all his effort, he felt his life unfruitful. He felt something was missing. He felt he wasn't bearing the spiritual fruit that we're made to.

He continued his work as a physician and a lay preacher frustratingly longing for more. In time he was met by a missionary from France challenging him with a question, "Who is the Holy Spirit to you?" Not being able to answer that to his satisfaction, the question haunted him. Then, on the evening of January 14, 1914, everything changed. Hearing a sermon by Dr. James Gray (a former president of Moody Bible Institute) preached from Romans 12:1, Gray asked, "Have you noticed that this verse does not tell us to whom we should give our bodies? It is not the Lord Jesus... He has His own body. It is not God the Father.. He remains on His throne. Another has come to earth without a body... God gives you the privilege and the indescribable honor of presenting your bodies to the Holy Spirit, to be His dwelling place on earth."

When Wilson was later able to get alone with God he said to Him [And THIS is what got me!], "My Lord, I have mistreated You all my Christian life. I have treated You like a servant. When I wanted You, I called for You. When I was about to engage in something important, I beckoned You to come and help me perform my task. I have sought to use You only as a servant to help me in my self-appointed work. I shall do so no more. Lord, I give You this body of mine; from my head to my feet. I give You my hands, my limbs, my eyes and lips, my brain; all that I am within and without. I hand over to You. Live in it the life that You please. You may send this body to Africa, or lay it on a bed with cancer. You may blind my eyes, or send me with Your message to Tibet. You may take this body to the Eskimos, or send it to a hospital with pneumonia. It is Your body from this moment on. Help Yourself to it...."

Wow! Could we say the same? Are we willing to give to the extent that Dr. Wilson just prayed? Would we allow God to send our body to Africa? Would we willingly let Him lay it on a bed with cancer? Uncomplainingly, let Him blind our eyes? Would we, without questioning Him, allow Him to rack our body with pneumonia?

We treat God as our hired servant. We come to Him when we want something. When we want Him to do something, heal something, give something, help something, bless something. When we want Him to move us, relocate us, position us, put us in the job or the school or the ministry we're wanting. We want Him to keep us free from all sicknesses and diseases. We want Him to prosper us and bless us abundantly. We want Him to do as we've asked Him to do. And when He doesn't... we don't believe in Him, we lose trust in Him, we're disappointed in Him. We feel defeated, rejected, alone, ignored. And because of that, we often take the matter into our own hands and do as we originally wished to.

Thinking of what Dr. Wilson said, and being where I am in my life at the moment, and also in the book that I'm currently studying in Ruth, may I add to that list of his?

Are you willing that He lay your husband down and put you on a journey of suffering? Can He take your children from you and you still trust and be willing to serve Him? We want Him to heal our loved one that lays sick or dying... and when He doesn't we shun Him, holler at Him, refuse to talk to Him, turn our backs to Him. We don't see it as the place and path that He wants us to walk in. And if we do, we quickly think (as a friend of mine once did) that if this is what God wants from us, just to be a tool or instrument for others to be blessed or learn something from, then we don't want to be the instrument He uses! That's not reason enough! 

Is it satisfactory to you if He chooses to take all that you have due to a famine of some sort or due to the destruction of disaster? Will You let Him take you to prison.... not just as a visitor, but one that serves with Him as a prisoner there along with all the other inmates? Will you feel blessed if His desire is to use you as a single, never meeting your mate to marry, but serving as His bride alone? Can He cripple your legs without your whining and writhing and fighting against Him? Can He strip all that you have and leave you homeless and you still praise His name and joyfully serve Him.... knowing that He has you in the exact place and position that He, before the foundation of the world, purposed and planned for you?

I often think of our bodies of His as His vehicles; He just needs a willing vehicle to ride in. He needs someone willing to go where He wills it to. Are we honestly willing to do as He wills... or rather, do we will Him to do only as we do? Is our motto truly "Jesus take the wheel"... or do we say that, but have our hands firmly gripping the wheel and beg Him to bless where we're willing to take Him?

Are we guilty of doing as Dr. Wilson pointed out to us? Are we guilty of treating God as our servant instead of us being His? Do we tell Him what we want to do and ask Him to bless it? Do we not like the vehicle He's specifically and individually chosen for us... whatever it is... because it hurts and it's painful and it's not what we'd like to be dressed as or doing?

When we seriously lay our lives before Him to be used as He's planned and prepared it, we get completely out of the way and allow Him to live through us... wherever and however and in whatever way He chooses.... whether that be through death to self or death through someone else or the worse case scenario that our minds can imagine.... Our true thinking is: Here am I, God, do what You want. May You use me in the manner that truly brings You the greatest glory.

It makes no difference where He places us or in what condition... we're submitted and trust all that He's doing. And knowing that we're submitted, we know that He's "doing,"... instead of believing that He doesn't care and that He is truly doing nothing at all even when we can't see Him.

What if you could hear Him saying to you now: I am seeking someone to serve Me. But I constantly find that I am the One you're expecting to serve. You bow and pray and ask Me to let you do My will... and then you turn right around and ask Me if I will do yours... all the while, fully expecting Me to do it?

Oh Lord, what's the vehicle You've chosen for me that You want to use? The vehicle of poverty, sickness, disease, suffering, sorrow...? It's easy to be excited to be used in all of the glorified things that bring us highs and makes us feel good. May I be willing even in the suffering.... because in all truth, that is mostly when Your light shines the brightest. It's through the hard that You can be seen the easiest and get the most glory.

Who (what?) in your life are you truly serving? Are you living to serve your Savior? Or, are spending your life trying to get Him to serve you in whatever the ways that you want Him to do?
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He was old. His hair was long. And I cried...

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I didn't know him, but my husband did. We were at the ball park, sitting in the stands watching my son's baseball game. He came and sat in front of us. He was an older guy and Tim commented that his hair was growing long. That's when he shared with us this story.

He turned to tell us why. He said one day he'd been walking in Walmart. He said from aisle to aisle he kept running into a little girl and her mama. The mom was pushing the little girl in a wheelchair. He could hardly keep his eyes drawn from her. He finally stopped them. He bent over and told the little girl that she was beautiful. He told me that he wasn't just saying so, she was. Her mama told him that she had cancer. He told me that he wanted to buy her something. He wanted for just a little while to make her happy. He told her that whatever she wanted in the store, she could pick out anything she wanted, he would buy it for her. He said of anything she could pick out she only wanted one thing... a thing not for sale... a thing he couldn't buy. All she wanted, he said, was hair. And though it's too late for her, he continued, that's why he's now growing his.

It was white. Old. He didn't know if any could use it. But if they could next time he wanted to have it to offer.

I cried the whole time he was telling his story. He apologized for my tears. I thought it was beautiful. Tears and all, I'm thankful he shared it.
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It's been a long time...

It's been a long time... and I really don't have the time... but I miss my being able to express my heart and my soul and my ponderings and my feelings on here. I hope to get back to some kind of 'normalcy' soon... though I think my 'normalcy' is changing and won't soon go back to the 'normal' as I know it. Actually, I'm not sure that it ever will.

My 2011 started with a vengeance and hasn't much slowed itself in its force. It's been a wild ride thus far... and looking forward I can't quite see the end of it. I've talked enough about seasons though to know that seasons do come... but seasons also go. We don't live forever in the same season. Sometimes we wish we could. Sometimes we're thrilled we can't.

There's so much to say that it's overwhelming to think of how to get started.......... ......... ...... ......... ......... But, like I said, I so very much hope to as soon as I can. God is still GOoD (just in case you wondered if I still thought so)! He's still my Rock and my Constant! And no matter His plans "for" me.... I always know they're always "for" and not against! :)

Wow... I miss this world of writing........

How do you know?

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I don't have time at the moment to answer the question or respond to the email that asked it. I'm about to run out the door, so I'll have to answer when I have ample time to do so, for this isn't a question (or is it?) that can be quickly answered in a few seconds.

But the question already has me pondering. And though "I know".... how "I know" doesn't seem easily answered or quickly done so. I am wondering if words will hold it? Can I share the knowing in mere words spoken and said or written to another?

The question?

Sharon, regarding the sermon on Sunday, I don't doubt the virgin birth. I can't tell you why, but I've always believed. I never gave it a thought not to. When I first read the Bible and still to this day I never questioned it or all the events (parting the red sea etc) that happened. I just believed the Bible. I have no clue why but I always have. What comes hard for me is, believing God loves me. Yet I know he does from all the things that have happen in my life, how he has been there and kept me safe and yet I am scared of God. I know my sins and do not understand why he loves me. Confused? When you have time I would really like to know how you know God loves you.

Woe! How do I know? How do you know? .... How do I go about answering it?
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