it takes all kinds

If you were to take my two oldest sons, (there were times by the way, when I wished someone would) and look at their personalities and the paths their lives have taken, you would never think they came from the same family. The strange thing is, they were raised in exactly the same way, used the same school books, went to the same church, listened to the same novels and autobiographies, and taught the same theology. We tried to be consistent with our words, our prayers for each of them, and the way we disciplined them.

However, in many, many ways they are poles apart in the way they think and in how they've approached life.

Our oldest son went to college and likes to have his ducks in a row before he takes the next step. And you know what? He and his ducks are happy living life that way.

#2? He did not go to college, and his ducks sometimes appear to be swimming all over the pond enjoying the water. And again, he and his ducks are happy living life that way.

(Please don't think I'm saying their lives are always hunky dory. They have stresses and challenges and go through hard things just like the rest of us do.)

OK, so, for a few years I sat here on the dock and watched my sons and their ducks and wondered, which way is God's way? How does He want us to live? Are we supposed to line up each little duck and follow them in a straight neat line? Or, is it better to just jump in the pond and play with the ducks? Let them swim around, and see what God does with them?

Sometimes I'd worry and stress about one son and the way he was treating his ducks, and sometimes I'd fear for the other one. Which boy is right?? I could see pros and cons to both ways of living and I could see the logic behind their choices.

Finally, I went to the bible to see what it had to say about men and living life and ducks. What on earth does God want us to do with them?? Are we supposed to line those duckies up or does God want us to toss them in the water and join them for a swim?

After a bit I began to notice something. It takes all kinds of men and all kinds of lives and all kinds of ducks to be a light and salt and husband and provider.

I looked in the bible and found Joseph. Talk about ducks and lining them up! That man was put in charge of saving and storing enough food to feed an entire nation for 7 years. I bet that man's excel spread sheets flapped in the breeze day and night for years while he worked on that project.

Then I thought about Moses. God told him to take the Israelites, well over 600,000 of them, and go. Just jump in the pond, (or desert in this case) and swim. There was no time to organize, no time to plan ahead, no time to pull the old excel spread sheet out or line up the ducks. Just take the ducks and leap.

I had so much peace after I peeked in the bible and spent time with Joseph and Moses-I could see God's hand in their lives, directing them, caring for them, using them...and I noticed the same thing with my sons. There isn't just one way to live with ducks. God is a God of variety and surprise and it takes all kinds of duck owners to accomplish what God wants accomplished.

3 little things

Do you like yourself? Could you sit down right now and make a list of things you like about you? Things you feel God put into you when He made you? Do you even believe God did the making? The bible says He did. Right there in Psalm 139:

verses 13-16

Oh yes, you shaped me first inside, then out;

you formed me in my mother's womb.

I thank you, High God-you're breathtaking!

body and soul, I am marvelously made!

I worship in adoration-what a creation!

You know me inside and out,

you know every bone in my body;

You know exactly how I was made, bit by bit,

how I was sculpted from nothing into something.

Like a open book, you watched me grow from conception to birth;

all the stages of my life were spread out before you,

The days of my life all prepared

before I'd even lived one day.

I joined a group on facebook this week-it's a group designed to help people focus on thanksgiving. No, not the holiday; this group focuses on giving thanks to God each and every day for the grace and gifts we see in our lives. (The idea stems from a book by Ann Voskamp called 1000 Gifts.)

If you click on her name and head over to her blog you'll find out more about Ann, her book, and the power of having a thankful heart. If you scroll down a bit you'll find a daily writing prompt for the month of January-things to look for each day, things that will cause you to think, wow, God is good and gracious....look at what He's doing in my life....

Having said all that, I wanted to tell you about our first assignment-we were to list 3 things about ourselves we are grateful for.

The results of that question, for those of us in the facebook group, were quite interesting. Nearly every single one of us said something like, "Wow. This is a hard one." or, "This isn't easy..." or, "This is a lot harder than I thought..."

Most of us couldn't easily write down 3 things about ourselves we are thankful for. And yet, if you look at what the bible says, we are not only made by Him, He gave each one of us gifts and strengths that are uniquely our own.

If you could've been here, in this room with me, when I wrote my answer, you would've seen me sigh, type, backspace, sigh, shut my eyes tight, type and bolt. I couldn't sit here with myself after having written 3 little things I'm thankful for about me. It was a most uncomfortable few minutes and it was obvious I wasn't the only one feeling that way.

So now I'm wondering about you. Would you be comfortable making a list of things you thank God for about you? Would it be easy for you? Why do we feel like we're being prideful or bragging if we are giving God the credit for those things? Or, maybe we don't like the way we are or believe we have any gifts?

Psalm 139 in another version of the bible reads, "I praise You because I am fearfully and wonderfully made..."

Do you believe that? Do you believe you are fearfully and wonderfully made? Would it be hard for you to tell me 3 things you're thankful for about you? It wouldn't even have to be things that you think were there from the beginning. What about lately? What about 3 things you've seen God do in you in the last few years to make you more like Him?

It's hard, isn't it? It's a place I certainly don't like to go. Do you?

not just any point of view

My husband and I have only had a few real fights over the years. Don't get me wrong. I know I annoy the daylights out of him at times and vice-versa, and we banter back and forth over things, but as for real fights? Where I get angry enough to throw a pen at his head and we yell at each other? Not very often. We usually get along pretty peaceably.

This is something my niece noticed and one day she even asked us about it.

"So, what is your secret? How come you guys get along so well? Why don't you fight?"

I can't remember which one of us answered the question, but we both thought it. We both thought the same thing at the same time and then one of us replied,

"I think we try and look at life from the other person's perspective. We step out of our shoes and look at things as if we were the other person and try and understand things from his/her point of view."

(I must admit that this has become harder to do during the last few years than it ever was before. For the longest time it was something we did naturally. It wasn't a part of our wedding vows or a pact we made in a meadow under a full moon on a hot summer night. We just did it. )

Well, a few months ago our pastor gave us a challenge. He told us to pray and ask God to help us view life from God's perspective. Whew. That is a challenge. It's difficult enough for me to step out of my shoes and into my husband's and think like a man. And not just any old man. In order for me to look at life from my husband's point of view, I have to study him. What does he like? What are his hurts? His baggage? What are his quirks? His preferences? What makes him comfortable and what are his pet-peeves? Why on earth does he think like that and do things that way?

In order for me to do that I have to take me, my desires, my hurts, my preferences, and most of who I am and put it all aside. I have to learn to think like my husband thinks which, I need to tell you, is not easy. Sometimes that man just doesn't make sense.

Anyway, by now I think you get my point. (or should I say my pastor's point?) In order for me to look at life from God's perspective, I need to know God. Who is He? What does He want? How does He think? Why does He do what He does? I need to study Him and who He is, put me aside, and try to think like He thinks. (and yes, there are times where God doesn't make sense either)

God does have an unfair advantage over my husband in all of this. God comes with a book. The bible. Through that I can know Him and who He is and why He does what He does. By studying the bible I'm studying God-I can see what His perspective is.

My husband didn't come with a book.

December 22

My dad died today. Oh, not literally. It was literally 9 years ago today.

I was thinking about him when I wrote yesterday's post. Do you know I still miss him? There will always be a hole in my heart that longs for his voice and his hugs and his big, warm, rough hand wrapped around mine. I guess there will always be a little girl hiding inside, needing her daddy.

I could focus on all that. I could really get into it and have a whopper of a pity party. Did you ever see the Lord of the Rings trilogy? For three years after dad died I had an Orc screaming in my heart. Not only was the adult me mourning his leaving, the little girl inside suddenly realized there was no hope of ever, ever having a daddy.

Death and grieving are strange things to me. The hurt is still there and I still miss him. The Orc has finally shut up though, which is nice. I don't miss him one bit. What's strange about death and grief is that for me, in this case, I have so much joy inside and so much to be thankful for even though...

I learned so much from my dad. He was practical, he was wise, he knew how to balance his time and used it wisely, and his faith...his faith was true and deep and everything I want mine to be. How did he get there??

When he found out he had lung cancer he calmly told us about it and calmly asked for prayer. He said, "If the Lord wants to heal me, that'd be great. If not, that's ok. It's up to Him and I'm ready to go home if that's what He wants."

I watched dad as he lived out the next two years. He never seemed to focus on the cancer or the fact that he was probably going to die. He still served, he still encouraged, he still laughed and carved and prayed for people and played games. He found joy in his days and would not allow fear or sorrow to overshadow here and now.

The timing of his death could be called untimely by some. Three days before Christmas; really? I could focus on that and have another wonderful little pity party every. single. year.

I don't though. The timing was sweet to me. His visitation and memorial were surrounded by Christ and Christmas, evergreen wreaths and bright, happy Christmas trees. It's a time of rejoicing and that's what I do when December 22 pops up each year. It is a sad sort-of rejoicing, but it is rejoicing. My dad is safely Home. He spends his days with Jesus now where there is no sorrow, no more tears, no more sin. He finished his race well.

I hope I do.

the perfect slap

They say confession is good for the soul so I'm going to fess up here and now:

For the last few years just the thought of Christmas has thrown me into a deep depression. I dreaded the day I had to flip the calendar from November to December and tried to ignore the fact that the 25th was there, right down toward the bottom of the page. My heart was heavy and tears would frequently find their way down my cheeks as the days passed.

A few weeks ago it was really bad. I was miserable and spent my free-thinking time freely thinking miserable thoughts.

I told a few people how I felt and I got a few sympathetic hugs or words of encouragement from them. Did that help? Nope. Not a bit.

Finally, one day I woke up with tears in my eyes. The only other time I woke up weeping was the morning after my my mom had died.

I spent some time that day chatting with a friend and in the course of our chat I mentioned my depression.

"So, why are you so depressed?" my friend asked.

Ha! Now was my chance!

"Well," I replied, "Christmas carols make me feel lonely, my parents are dead, my sons have grown up, money is tight, our whole extended family lives west of the Mississippi...." on and on I babbled.

Finally I stopped and my friend said,

"Judy, are you taking drugs for your depression?"

Drugs?? For my depression??

I sat here and froze inside. I stared at the computer, startled. Have you ever seen an old movie where a hysterical female gets slapped across the face by her friend in order to stop her screaming? That is how I felt. It was the perfect slap, delivered casually, almost in passing, but boy howdy, did it stop me in my tracks.

It was one of the most convicting moments I've had in a very long time.

I just thought, Oh Jesus, I am so, so sorry. You have blessed and given and hugged me so deeply and so often- I feel like I've thrown your love and your gifts to me down in the mud and stomped on them. All I've been doing is focusing on me...focusing on the negatives...focusing on what I don't have. Please, please forgive me...."

Way back last summer I started reading a book called 1000 Gifts by Anne Voskamp. Have you read it? I won't go into all of it now, but it's a very good book. Anne challenges her readers to look for God everywhere, all day, in every circumstance and in every moment. Here is a trailer to the book on youtube. (Please, take 4 minutes and 20 seconds out of your day and watch it. It's so worth it....)

Anyway-another thing Anne challenges her readers to do is actually list the gifts you see God giving you each day by writing them down. I started doing that last summer but I quickly discovered something. I couldn't get away from the notebook I was writing in. Every single minute held something to be thankful for. I could see God's hand all over the place. I could see His hugs everywhere. I even saw Him in the hard things and the stressful things. I could not stop writing so I did stop. I had to walk away from the notebook in order to teach, or cook, or throw a load of laundry in the washer...

I spent a lot of time talking to God though; a lot of time thanking Him for the sweet gifts I was seeing in my life.

As autumn progressed I stopped reading the book and then as November turned into December I stopped looking for God as much. I wasn't focused on Him; I started focusing on me and my not-so-happy little thoughts and you saw up there the result of that.

I will confess I still have my December moments, but since that slap that's all they've been-moments. When I focus on the Lord and search for Him, I find Him all over my life. This has been the happiest, most peace-filled December I've had in at least 7 years. I've loved decorating and shopping, cleaning and planning what to bake. I've even loved the gloomy grey Indiana weather.

Let me guess. You are thinking, wow, this woman is bi-polar. I'm not though. The bible promises us that when we are focused on Him rather than self, and we thank Him for His gifts and His love, we will have joy.

A well timed slap doesn't hurt either.

do you ever wish you had a giant pencil?

You know I'm not perfect, don't you? I haven't arrived...yet. You know if just being alive is what makes a person wonderful I'll be here for a very, very, very long time...

Having said that, I'd like to tell you something.

I don't like everyone.

It's not that I want them dead, or I wish them ill. There are just some people I'd like to see disappear.

Now imagine you're standing outside. The sun is shining, the birds singing. Standing next to you is a 5 foot tall pencil with an 8" eraser. Suddenly, along comes someone who annoys you-someone who grates on your nerves or exasperates you. You look at her, pick up your handy dandy pencil, point the eraser in her direction and rub the air. voila! She's gone. It's like she never existed at all.

The other morning #3 woke up and told me he'd had a rough night. Apparently at 1:30 am he'd received a text message. He couldn't remember the whole thing, but it was long and disturbing and it came to the wrong phone. Here's the gist of what it said:

Where are you dad??

You could at least call me!

It's been a month since I've heard from you! Why

don't you communicate?? This is no way to treat

your daughter! (on and on it went...)

Needless to say, it took my son awhile to go back to sleep after that.

When he told me what the text had said, I didn't want to erase the poor girl's father. I wanted to pick up my handy-dandy 5 foot long pencil and beat him over the head with it. I have been mourning for that girl all week and I've never laid eyes on her.

If I could talk to her father I'd give him a piece of my mind. (Especially since it seems his has gone missing.)

I'd tell him children are a gift, no matter how old they are. God entrusted them to our care and we play a huge role in their lives until their life is no more. I'd tell him he is a selfish brute and then I'd stop him in his tracks. I'd force him to look at his daughter...I'd ask him to look deeply and closely and see the vulnerable little girl hiding behind her desperate heart. I'd say a few more things I probably shouldn't type out here...

Then perhaps I'd stop. After I'd dented my pencil a few times over his head I'd take a deep breath and look at him. I'd look deeply and closely and I'd wonder about the vulnerable little boy hiding inside. What happened to you? I'd wonder. Who hurt you so badly you are unable to love? To care? Are you maybe treating your daughter the way you were treated? Or, are you truly just that selfish and ugly inside?

Then I think I'd grab a bible and show them that although she doesn't have the perfect father, and I doubt he's ever been one, we have One who is. He knows everything about them. (Psalm 139:1)

He is not distant and angry-He is the perfect loving Father. (John 3:16)

He gives and loves more than any earthly Father could. (Matthew 7:11)

He loves with an unending love. (Jeremiah 31:3)

His plan for their future is filled with hope. (Jeremiah 29:11)

Everything good that happens in their lives is actually from Him. (James 1:17)

If they would seek Him with all their hearts they would find Him. Unlike some dads we know... (Deuteronomy 4:29)

He longs to comfort them in all their troubles. (2 Corinthians 1:3-4)

He is close to those who have desperate, broken hearts. (Psalm 34:18)

If they would allow Him to be their Father, He promises one day to take away all their pain and wipe away every tear. (Revelation 21:3-4)

I'd tell them I'm not perfect, (his lumpy head being living proof) and they are not perfect. We are all sin-filled people and separated from God because of that. (Romans 3:23)

Jesus, His one and only Son, died so that they could one day stand before God, forgiven. (2 Corinthians 5:18-19)

His death was God's end all expression of His love for them. (1 John 4:10 and/or Romans 5:8)

If they would receive the gift God gave them, His Son, they would never be separated from His love again. (Romans 8:38-39)

God wants to know if they would like to be His children. (John 1:12-13)

He is patiently waiting for them....(Luke 15:11-32)

If you'd like to see exactly what those bible verses say but you don't own a bible, click here and you can read them on-line.

What holds true for that girl and her missing dad holds true for you and it holds true for me.

God has become my Father and healed my broken, desperate heart. He wants to do the same thing for you, if that's what you need....if that's what you long for....

all it takes is talking to Him. Telling Him you know you've blown it, maybe big time. Did you there is no sin too big or too ugly? His love is sweet and perfect. (Romans 8: 38-39)

Then you tell Jesus you need Him. Tell Him you can't take one more step without Him and thank Him for dying in your place. Ask Him to forgive you for your sins and ask Him to make you the kind of person He wants you to be. It's that simple.

And then, from that moment on, you have access to the perfect Father. You can talk to Him any time and trust Him to love you and always be available. He will never leave you and He will certainly never, ever beat you over the head with a giant pencil...

going home

I am a conundrum.

There are times where I am a very timid, cautious person who startles when the wind blows. On the other hand, I've been known to just leap first and ask questions later.

The brave person, (or foolish, depending on how you look at it) nearly got me killed 13 years ago. In all honesty I'm not sure how close to death I actually came, but I thought I was dying. I'll tell you the story and let you decide.

My whole side of the family were in Colorado for a family reunion. There were several planned activities-things like horseback riding, sight seeing, a funeral, and white water rafting on the Colorado River. It was the rafting, or the lack of a raft, that got me into trouble.

There were 1 or 2 places in the river that day where no man in his right mind would purposely get out of a raft; there were a couple places where we had to actually get out of the raft and pull it down the river because the water was so low. Then there was the place where I learned for the second time in my life that I am not invincible.

The river at this point was very deep and bounced along at a good clip, pouring over large boulders periodically. We had pulled the raft to the river bank and all of us got out to stretch our legs. Suddenly, all the 20 somethings in the group decided they were going to jump into the river and ride this spot in their life-jackets. I stood there and watched a few of them bounce down the river, looking like little dots in the churning water, laughing, making it look so incredibly fun and inviting. After about 1 minute I decided I was going to do it too. You only go around once in life, right? Go for it. Have some fun!

I received some dubious looks from my family, but no one tried to stop me. They gave me specific directions on how to ride the river in a life jacket:

You pretend you're sitting in a chair-you keep your head up, your tush back, and your legs straight out in front of you. That's all there is to it.

Great, thought I. Looks easy peasy, sounds easy peasy. So, I took a flying leap and there I was, bobbling down the Colorado River, a tiny dot at the mercy of the water, the rocks, my life-jacket and God.

There was just one teeny tiny problem. I could not stay in a sitting position. My legs refused to stick out in front of me; the force of the water kept pushing them behind me. (that and the fact that they kept slamming into those large boulders.)

Every time I went over a boulder I would be forced completely under water. When I came up for air I would swallow gallons of said water instead. This went on for a bit; me bobbling along bouncing over rocks, coming up, swallowing large bits of the Colorado River, going down, coming up, swallowing large bits of.....you get the point. And, it got to the point where my lungs decided they'd had enough water and wanted some actual air. The problem was, I couldn't find any.

OK-so that's what was going on on the outside. On the inside? I was terrified. At first. But then, after a bit I realized I had no say in the matter. It was either live or die but that was up to God.

The fear went away and I started thinking, hmmm, what would happen if I died right now? Here? Today? Amazingly, the thought didn't bother me. I had perfect peace about it and I could sense God was right there, next to me as I moved down the river. The only thing that bothered me was thinking about our then 6 year old growing up without a mother; other than that, the only thing I thought was, hey, death by drowning isn't a bad way to go. I don't hurt, I'm not afraid. This isn't bad at all.

Right around the time I thought it truly was The End, that part of the river calmed down and one of my nephews came to my rescue. He saw me bobbling by, looking and feeling literally like a drowned rat, grabbed a corner of my life jacket, and pulled me to the river bank. I sat there on a boulder, gasping for air, happy to be alive.

Looking back, I am so thankful for that experience. Like I said, I don't know how close I truly came to dying. What I do know is that when my time comes, God will be right there, giving me the strength and peace I need, when I need it, to get through whatever it is. If He was there doing all that when I didn't die, I know He'll be there, doing all that, when He comes to take me Home.

a once in a lifetime prayer

It was just around 2 years ago our pastor challenged us, his sheep, to pray a simple prayer.

"Lord, please do something big in my life and make it obvious You were the one who did it."

I wrote that prayer down on the church bulletin, brought it home, and thought about it. Visions of sugar plums danced in my head. I could only imagine something wonderful, and sweet and miraculous coming as a result of saying those words to God, so I prayed them. Then I forgot all about that prayer. God didn't. I have no doubt He heard it. (can you hear me sighing?)

To make a long story short, my back went out. I had a herniated disc which led to a smooshed sciatic nerve in my left leg, which led to horrendous pain, which led to back surgery, which led to 15 months (and counting) recovery time; my left leg still bothers me frequently. My surgeon was baffled when he looked at the MRI and x-rays. He said there was no sign of osteoporosis, no sign of arthritis, no sign of anything that would cause the herniation. (I should've told him it was an answer to prayer.)

Anyway...many, many, many years ago I heard a sermon on sheep. Apparently they are very stubborn, independent, prone to disease, and have been known to make stupid choices a thing of habit. The speaker said that when a shepherd has a sheep that's being particularly sheepish, he will gently, tenderly kneel over his sheep and break her leg. Then the shepherd will bind the leg, pick up the sheep, and tie her to his chest. He will carry that sheep with him, everywhere he goes, until that leg heals. The purpose? The sheep gets to know the shepherd intimately. She smells the shepherd's breath, feels his heart beating away in his chest, becomes intimately acquainted with his voice, and feels his warmth and caring day in and day out. Then, finally, one day, the leg is healed and the sheep is free.

The shepherd hopes that by now his little sheep has learned that being stubborn, independent and stupid is not the way to go. He hopes that the sheep has learned to trust him; to know that no matter what happens she is loved and will be cared for. He trusts that by spending all that time in the shepherd's arms the sheep will crave his company and will stop being so sheepish.

I have since googled this information, trying to find out if shepherds really do break a sheep's leg, or if they ever did, maybe in ancient times? I couldn't find anything that proves this has ever happened.

However, I still love the story, true or not. And, like that sheep, I have learned so, so much. I could literally write a book about it all....I asked my husband if he's noticed a change in me since all this began. He says he has. He says my faith is stronger, I'm less stubborn, more feminine, more vulnerable and compassionate, more open to the Lord and less independent and prideful than I've been in days past. We both know I'm not perfect, but we've both noticed some improvement in my character and in my relationship to our Shepherd.

The last 2 years were an unexpected answer to a prayer. My broken, bruised leg has been used to teach me many lessons. It's been an exhausting and confusing time. Wonderful, sweet, miraculous things have come from it all; really, really wonderful things....(If you're interested, I wrote a bit more about all of this here and here.)

But, would I ever, ever pray that prayer again? Just between you and me? I don't think so. It's been worth it, but...nope. I'm just not sure I'll ever utter those words to my Shepherd again....I'm not sure I have the courage....

would you?

two worlds becoming one

Sometimes I just don't know what to write about or what to say or whether to say it because of this: A few years ago our pastor told us to examine our lives; he told us to think about every single thing we do or say and ask, will this stand for eternity or is it a waste of time?

Do you have any idea how much pressure that question puts on a person who loves to write? Especially one who is not a teacher nor a bible scholar? Sometimes I'm able to ignore the little voice in my head asking that question and just type. Sometimes that question makes me question should I write? I wonder about you-what do you get out of this place in space? Is it a waste of your time? Is it ok to tell you stories about my life, or my thoughts? That's all I have to offer. I'm not Anne Graham or Kay Arthur or Ann Voskamp. I couldn't even begin to string together a bible study or a deep spiritual lesson, but I don't want to waste a minute of your life either.

I often struggle with the whole idea of living in two worlds-we are eternal beings created to have a deep, intimate friendship with God. I believe there is an unseen world all around us-a spiritual world where God is, and sin, repentance, angels, demons, hell, and heaven....

However, we also live on a planet filled with moose, stubbed toes, music, bad hair days, new babies, and beautiful sunsets. And I know our pastor loves football. That's not eternal. (At least I hope not.)

I also believe the things we experience in life are sifted through God's fingers. That's an amazing thought if you spend time with it; that certainly reconciles the two worlds, doesn't it? God who is eternal and invisible, giving us a planet and experiences that are altogether tangible...

Somehow, we are meant to live straddled between the two. Our noses pointed in one direction while our feet take us in many.

Which brings me back to the question: will this stand for eternity or is it a waste of time? What about the music we listen to or the books we read? What about the pain we experience and those lovely bad hair days? None of those things are eternal.

And yet, think about Jesus.

What did He do? He told stories. He used tangible examples of everyday experiences to bring people to their knees in invisible repentance. Each story He told was like a tiny thread tying this world to the invisible, eternal one. His stories built friendships and showed people how to live and love and have a renewed relationship with God the Father.

Please don't even think I'm comparing this blog to the stories Jesus told! That's not where I'm trying to go with this, although it does sound like it, doesn't it?

What I'm trying to say is this:

stories are good for us. I love hearing about people's lives-what they've seen or done or experienced. Our life stories may not be eternal, but they do help us along while we're here, on a temporary planet, to get to there, an invisible eternal home. Your story is full of experiences like bad hair days, deep heartache, sin, good food, and memories of your childhood. When you tell your story, when you give others bits of yourself...when you are vulnerable and expose your sin or pain or the things you long for, you are tying strings from your heart to another. You're telling someone you've been there, you understand...you're creating a link from a tangible experience to an unseen world, the one that is eternal.

oh those phone calls....

My daddy was the most important thing in my world when I was small; he was my anchor, my hero, my comforter...I trusted and loved him more than anyone else I knew.

I know I've told you that before, but I love saying it because I love/d him.

All that changed when I was 7 or 8 and my parents divorced. Dad moved to Michigan and I moved to Colorado. From that point on our relationship was sporadic and required actual work to maintain. I was only able to see my dad twice a year-the rest of the time we communicated via letters or his phone calls.

Those phone calls...they were intensely bittersweet and always left me feeling lonely, hungry for more of him. On the other hand, I always felt treasured and missed; I knew he was lonely and hungry for more of me too.

The worst part of each phone call was saying goodbye. At first, when I'd hear his voice on the other end of the line, I was thrilled. My daddy had called me! He'd ask me about school, my friends, what I was doing for fun, and then he'd tell me about his life and what he was up to. After a bit we'd come to the end of the conversation and dad would say, "Well sweetheart, I love you. I miss you. I'll call again soon, but for now let's hang up."

"OK daddy. I love you too. Bye..."

Silence. Neither one of us hanging up.

"Judy, are you still there?"

"Yes daddy."

"Sweetheart, we need to hang up now, so hang up the phone."

"OK daddy. I love you..."

Silence. Neither one of us wanting to end the delicate connection we had.

"Judy, why don't you hang up?"

"Because I miss you daddy...."

"OK sweetie. Let's hang up together. I'll count. 1, 2, 3..."

and then I'd hang up. I wouldn't leave the phone for a long time though. I'd sit there, staring at it, waiting, wondering if he had actually hung up. Was he still there, on the other end of the line, hoping to hear my voice telling him I love him? Telling him more than I already had? Was he longing for those tiny phone wires to keep me there, in the room with him, as close as we could be under the circumstances? Sometimes I'd doubt his love, and would wonder, did his heart hurt like mine did, or was he off and running, on to the next thing?

I'd sit there, staring at the phone, aching to hear his deep, comforting voice cradling me, making me feel loved and safe....so thankful he'd called, relieved to know he still loved me, regardless of our circumstances.

There are so many spiritual parallels here...so many. A Father's love, a deep connection, sin severing that, work that brings it back, work that maintains it, doubt, time spent together that heals it....

I think, if this were my last blog post...if I never put my fingers on a keyboard again, my last words to you would be Romans 8: 38-39. Unlike my dad's availability, God is always, always, always available. We can talk to Him and pour out our hearts to Him incessantly. (I think He'd actually enjoy that.) His love is constant and there's no reason to ever doubt it.

I used those 2 verses yesterday when I wrote, but they are perfect for today as well and I pray you would get it. I pray I would get it...

For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all of creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

(not even severed phone lines...)

The Rock

Sometimes my husband overwhelms me with his love. It has been constant, regardless of my words, my actions or my state of being. He has never, never, not ever said a cruel, impatient word or lost his temper with me. He has never said that I was anything but beautiful in his eyes, regardless of how I looked. He has never made a nasty joke at my expense. He has patiently been by my side for over a quarter of a century, consistent, trustworthy, gentle and loving. My steady man.

My husband is my rock. I know, the bible clearly states that Jesus is our Rock. I don't mean to imply that my husband has become God to me. He's not that perfect. Here's what I mean: imagine a forest full of deep green pine trees. Then imagine a huge boulder sitting there in the midst of all those trees. It's larger than a minivan but not as big as a semi. Got the picture? Now imagine a curly haired, hyperactive, fearful, emotional poodle running pell mell around that boulder. It can't leave the vicinity of the rock because it's leash is stuck under it. It cannot get away from that rock. If that were our marriage? Well, let's just say I'm not the boulder. My husband has consistently been there, allowing me the freedom to be an emotional, fearful-at-times, typical female, while steadily keeping me in line with The Rock; with Jesus.

The other night we went to our son's house for dinner. I'd had a rough day pain-wise and was feeling weary of it. As we were driving home that night I asked my husband if he was getting sick of taking care of me; I asked him if he was sick of helping me with the mundane little things I can't do; I asked him how he'd feel if this turns out to be the new me. It still hurts to lift a wet blanket out of the washer to put it in the dryer, I still can't scrub the tub, (I learned that the hard way) it still hurts to clean the floor, and I can't climb up on a chair to put something away or dust "up there". I still need so much help.

When I asked my husband if he was getting sick of it all, he said, "What?? What are you talking about?? I love you. I married you and promised to love you in sickness or in health til death do we part. I'm not sick of it or you. This is how it is now and I love you no matter how you are because I love you." He said a lot of other sweet things and blew me away, really. He was truly dumbfounded that I could even imagine him being sick of helping me.

In turn I was dumbfounded that anyone can love like that. I'm not sure I could. If the tables were turned I'm not sure I'd be as patient, as unconditional, as selfless. I'd be so ready for "this" to be over...

Then my happy little thoughts turned to how deeply painful it is to be this vulnerable. To actually need constant help. I hate it-I have never liked being dependent on people and I sometimes wonder, what if this never changes? What if I'm never able to be independent again? What if this is the new me?

When I voiced those thoughts out loud, My husband said he wondered if that is why I'm still healing. He wonders if God is wanting to whittle down (even more than He has) my independence. My pride. He wonders if God is wanting me to learn to be vulnerable and allow myself to depend on others. (All I had to say to that idea was yuck which probably proves his point.)

And that's where the boulder/poodle thing comes in again. That poodle is vulnerable. It is so dependent on that rock to keep it safe and grounded.

And that's where The Rock comes in again too. God's love-it is perfect. It is even more consistent than my husband's. He is even more patient, more trustworthy, more steady.

Romans 8:38-39 says, For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Don't those verses take your breath away? Don't they make your heart skip a beat? Don't they make you want to fall on your face and lay there, worshiping, in awe of Him? Nothing, nothing, absolutely nothing can separate us from His consistent, trustworthy, patient love.

Psalm 48:14 ...for this God is our God for ever and ever; He will be our guide even to the end.

He is faithful and He loves. He is our Rock. Our giant, consistent boulder.

so let it be written, so let it be done

Does God ever speak to your heart? Do you ever hear His still, quiet voice shouting at you from somewhere deep inside telling you to do something you may or may not want to do?

He did that to me when I was 19. He told me to homeschool my future children.

OK-wait. Please don't leave because you think that's what this post is about. It is, but it isn't. And please don't leave because you think I'm crazy. God does speak to our hearts.

When He told me to homeschool I was thrilled. I've always loved babies and children and the thought of being able to teach my own? At home? I was so excited I could hardly wait.

Finally the day came and my oldest son was ready for kindergarten. No longer was I purely excited, I was "just a tad" nervous. The reality of what I was about to do hit me and I realized I could completely mess up this boy's entire life. So, we decided to take it one year at a time. Kindergarten. I could handle that. A B C's and 1 2 3's. No problem. I knew those by heart.

Then first grade. Well, I know how to read and I can add 2 +2, so off we went and again, no problem. We managed to make it through the first several years taking it one year at a time. I had no idea I was in it for the long haul and in my mind I could always back out if it got too hard.

Well, when that boy hit 8th or 9th grade it not only got too hard for me to teach him, it was impossible. I could not do it. Literally. For reasons that don't need exploring at this juncture, (one of my favorite quotes, btw :-) ) I think I only have about a 7th grade education. Don't splutter at me. I'm dead serious. There is no way I could pass a college entrance exam. I've never learned algebra, never learned chemistry, I couldn't diagram a sentence if you put a gun to my head, and here's the really embarrassing one, I actually flunked high school biology.

So, when our son hit high school and God was still whispering to my heart, homeschool this boy...keep going....obey me....I almost lost it. I was no longer just a tad nervous. I was terrified. I had visions of my son standing on a street corner holding a sign that said, "Please feed me. My mom homeschooled me."

In a nutshell, our sons ended up teaching themselves throughout high school. I handed them the books and said, "learn all this." My heart was overwhelmed-I felt so guilty. It was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do....but, I knew that I knew that I knew this was what God wanted.

As our sons struggled along, I did what I could. I encouraged them. I prayed for them. I baked cookies for them. I prayed for them. I told them they could do it. I prayed for them. I reminded God over and over again that this was His problem. They were His problem. I dumped our sons in His lap and stepped back, asking Him to see them through.

In all honesty, I was not the Queen of Faith. I cried. I acquired many grey hairs. But, in the end? In the end we all learned that God is faithful to finish what He starts in us. He is faithful to see us through something He tells us to do because, after all, He wants it done.

Our sons not only learned the curriculum. They learned how to study. They learned how to research. They learned how to persevere when something is overwhelming.

Our oldest son said this experience prepared him for college in a way nothing else could. College professors don't hold hands with their students all the way through. They hand them the curriculum and say, "learn all this." It's up to the students to study; to research; to persevere.

To make a long story short, we did it. Actually God did it, and that's what this post is about. God's faithfulness. His doing what He told us to do when He knew it was something we could only do if He did it.

God is good

God is good.

Lately I've been noticing those words a lot. They are so deeply true, but the only time I hear them is when something good has happened in someone's life. And I must admit, I think the same thing when life is right; when the sun is shining and something wonderful has happened. But what about when life is grueling? When horrible, daunting things come and you feel overwhelmed, what then? It's so hard at that moment to think, "Hey, isn't God good?"

I must admit, that has never been the first (or second or third) thing I've thought when thorny things have knocked on my door. Sometimes it takes years of looking back over my shoulder before I can see and admit God's goodness during a difficult time in life.

Lately, when I hear those words and see the circumstances under which they're used, I've wondered two things:

1. Is it possible for humans to hurt the father heart of God?

2. Do we hurt that heart when we say He's good only when life is good?

Maybe not. Maybe, because He is our Father, He understands how difficult it is for us to say, "Hey, you are wonderful!" when life isn't.

But, I think as our Father, he'd appreciate it if we would.

The bible says,

Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see...

....Hebrews 11:1

And, the bible says He is good. All the time. Daytime, nighttime, lovely times, trying times. All the times. He is good.

He is good when life isn't:

The Lord is good, a refuge in times of trouble. He cares for those who trust in Him.

Nahum 1:7

He is good when we aren't:

Good and upright is the Lord; therefore He instructs sinners in His ways.

Psalm 25:8

He is good when life is frightening:

Taste and see that the Lord is good; blessed is the one who takes refuge in Him.

Psalm 34:8

He is good when it looks like He isn't:

For the Lord is good and His love endures forever; His faithfulness continues through all

generations.

Psalm 100:5

He is good when we don't deserve it:

The Lord is good to all; He has compassion on all He has made.

Psalm 145:9

He even has goodness stored up for us:

How abundant are the good things that you have stored up for those who fear you, that you bestow in the sight of all, on those who take refuge in You.

Psalm 31:19

Clinging to those words, those verses...remembering them as life happens rather than spotting them years after the fact...trusting Him minute by minute, when life doesn't make sense-that's my prayer. To get to the point where I can see and say "God is good" regardless...Rememebering Hebrews 11:1 even when life doesn't make sense:

Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see...

Praying...

When our sons were very young, (they still seem young to me now and 2 of them are in their 20's-but I'm thinking diaper-wearing young) I read an article in a parenting magazine. I don't remember most of what the article said, but one thing jumped out at me. The author of the article said it's a wise thing to pray for you children.

You might be thinking, oh for Pete's sake. I do that nearly every waking moment of my life. But, the article went on and spoke about the wisdom of praying scripture for your child; taking an actual passage right out of the bible and praying it for him.

Please, just take a minute out of your crazy day and read these verses. Pretty please? You won't regret it. Think about your child-put his name in place of all the "yous". Look at all the incredible things you would be praying for your child-things that are eternal; things that have priceless value; things that will give your child a godly focus....

For this reason, since the day we heard about you, we have not stopped praying for you. We continually ask God to fill you with the knowledge of his will through all the wisdom and understanding that the Spirit gives, so that you may live a life worthy of the Lord and please him in every way: bearing fruit in every good work, growing in the knowledge of God, being strengthened with all power according to his glorious might so that you may have great endurance and patience, and giving joyful thanks to the Father, who has qualified you to share in the inheritance of his holy people in the kingdom of light. Col.1:9-12

And look at this passage:

So then, just as you received Christ Jesus as Lord, continue to live your lives in him, rooted and built up in him, strengthened in the faith as you were taught, and overflowing with thankfulness.See to it that no one takes you captive through hollow and deceptive philosophy, which depends on human tradition and the elemental spiritual forces of this world rather than on Christ. Col. 2:6-8

Here's another one the article suggested praying:

And this is my prayer: that your love may abound more and more in knowledge and depth of insight, so that you may be able to discern what is best and may be pure and blameless for the day of Christ, filled with the fruit of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ—to the glory and praise of God. Phil.1:9-11

And the last one:

I have not stopped giving thanks for you, remembering you in my prayers. I keep asking that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the glorious Father, may give you the Spirit of wisdom and revelation, so that you may know him better. I pray that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order that you may know the hope to which he has called you, the riches of his glorious inheritance in his holy people, and his incomparably great power for us who believe. That power is the same as the mighty strength he exerted when he raised Christ from the dead and seated him at his right hand in the heavenly realms, far above all rule and authority, power and dominion, and every name that is invoked, not only in the present age but also in the one to come. Eph. 1:16-21

I don't always pray scripture for our sons. Sometimes I've only had the brain power to throw out an S.O.S. But, I did write these passages out on recipe cards and put them in my bible. From time to time I will take those cards out and pray them. I pray them for our whole family, not just our sons....

Who Cares if He's "Wrong"?

Have you ever stopped and thought, "What if I'm mistaken? What if the convictions I hold to are just plain wrong?" Or, worse yet, you look at someone who's not doing it the way you are and you know they're wrong?

Have you ever taken Christians and really looked at them? There's an umbrella of truth we all stand under:

-Jesus is the Son of God

-We are all sinners

-A price had to paid for those sins

-God loves us and provided a ransome

-Jesus died and conquered death to pay the price

-Believing in Jesus and who He is and what He did and placing your life in His hands is what saves you (gives eternal life)

But, outside that umbrella? There's a dance going on that's so intricate it'll make your head spin. People all over the planet, with the same bible as a guide, have an incredibly varied faith:

-women should only wear dresses

-it's ok for women to wear pants

-you should be in "full time" ministry

-whatever you do you are in "full time" ministry

-birth control is a sin

-birth control is a gift

-we are all called to home-school

-children need to be in the public school system to be salt and light

-you can lose your salvation

-once saved, always saved

-secular music is sinful

-secular music is ok

-you should only read christian books

-it's ok and even good to read a variety of books by a variety of authors

-women should never cut their hair

-God doesn't care what length a woman's hair is

-speaking in tongues proves you've been saved

-speaking in tongues is a thing of the past

-Christians can be possessed by demons

-Christians can't be possessed by demons

-God is sovereign over our every move

-God plopped us here and the rest is up to us

-we need to go to college in order to provide for our families

-God will provide

-it's ok to have fun

-life is hard and we need to take it seriously

The confusing thing is, in most of those cases, you can find a bible verse to back up what you believe. There are some grey areas in the Christian faith.

Churches split over those things. Families divide. Friends part ways because of them.

Why did God do it this way? Why did He make room for so much confusion? So much potential for hurt? We waste so much time and energy focusing on our beliefs and waggling our finger at people who aren't doing it our way.

We really need to put all that on the back burner. We are people, right? We all have baggage. We were all given life and we will all someday die. We are all just bumbling along, taking it one day at a time. I think it's fun, and even good to discuss those things. To banter over them and examine them. But when we forget to love people over them? Then I think we've lost track of our purpose or our reason for being here.

As the Westminster Shorter Catechism says, man's chief end is to glorify God and enjoy Him forever.

Ps 86 pretty much sums it up:

Among the gods there is none like you, Lord;

no deeds can compare with yours.
All the nations you have made
will come and worship before you, Lord;
they will bring glory to your name.
For you are great and do marvelous deeds;
you alone are God.

Teach me your way, LORD,
that I may rely on your faithfulness;
give me an undivided heart,
that I may fear your name.
I will praise you, Lord my God, with all my heart;
I will glorify your name forever.
For great is your love toward me;
you have delivered me from the depths,
from the realm of the dead.

our beautiful God

I'm reading bits and pieces of a book called The Gospel According to Job by Mike Mason. Have you read it?
I just read one paragraph recently that really jumped out at me. It is so simple that it never occurred to me to think it. (I'll explain that after I show you the paragraph)

When the Devil is exposed he is shown up to be a cosmic bore, whereas when the Lord shows Himself He
becomes more mysterious than ever. Those who do not really know the Lord take exception to His riddles
and paradoxes. But to know Him is to know continual, exponential growth in one's capacity to live with
contradiction. Divine contradiction is like an exotic food or music:one must acquire a taste for it. Many people, even
the very religious, have no real stomach for mysterium tremendum. They are fine when gazing up into a starry sky,
but when they encounter the infinite abyss of Christ on the human level, it turns their stomachs. This was apparently
the case with one of the great writers of the twentieth century, Franz Kafka, who when asked his opinion of Christ
answered, "He is an abyss filled with light; one must close one's eyes if one is not to fall in." Often people perform the
most astounding mental gymnastics in order to keep from falling into the mysteries of God. Such paradoxes as
predestination and free will are endlessly debated, when if only we would submit our minds to the bright
unyielding enigmas of Scripture, we would see that the New Testament plainly teaches both. Often even mature
Christians have, in some areas a monaural theology; the richness of stereo sounds like noise to their ears.

There is so much there to think about...but let's just take one piece of that paragraph, that one tiny aspect of God, predestination vs. free will. It has been debated in our house over and over and over again. We've dug out different versions of the bible and our concordances and thrown verses at each other like we were ping pong players. All six of us have discussed it until we were blue in the face. Not once, ever, never, did it occur to me that both could be true and possible. What do you think? Could both be true? Or is that a dumb question? Something even a child knows?

I want God to fit into a mold-either He is sovereign over everything and "all things were predestined" or "everything we do and experience is a result of our free will". I would hate to have a God I understood, but I've never really thought about giving Him the freedom to be that not-understandable. Why do we shake our heads and sigh, disappointed in the mystery of His Godness when in reality that's what makes Him God?

In all honesty, I'm not sure I like looking at the possibility of both predestination and free will being true, but I do love the idea. It makes Him huge....

All my life, in order to either bend my head around this idea, (which I couldn't do) or totally ignore it, I have simply clung to Romans 8:28:

And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose.

I know that's true and when I go through hard things, I remind God that that verse is in the bible. "You promised, God..."

So, what do you think? Or was that book written for 7 year olds and I'm right there with them?

my hero

My dad was my hero. At least, he started out that way. He made me feel cherished, treasured, safe. (Luckily I don't remember the time he almost drowned me.)

I do remember the feelings of being treasured and safe. (Except for the diving lessons he gave me. Making me jump off the high dive when I was barely 3. Really?? That was a bit much. Although even that was a lesson in trust. He was waaaaaay down there in the water waiting for me each and every time I stepped off the board. Of course, he had to cajole and frighten me into taking the plunge...)

Anyway. Moving right along. He made me feel wanted. He wanted me with him as much as I wanted to be with him. (No, this is not going to be a sob story. Just read on, ok?) We ran errands together, did yard work together, cuddled together, talked about everything. He actually listened to my little girl chatter like it mattered. He even took me to work with him when he could. He was the one I wanted when I got hurt, not my mom. I wanted daddy.

Then one day when I was about 8 it all ended. Dad took a 30 year break from hero status and wallowed around in my heart as someone who couldn't be trusted at all. He suddenly abandoned his family and moved on. New wife, new kids, new state, new home.

About 2 years before he died my dad became my hero once again. But this time it wasn't because of how he made me feel-it was because of what he did. Over and over again in those last 2 years he pointed my nose in the right direction. I don't think it was intentional. He just lived a relationship with the Lord that amazed me. I don't think I've ever seen anyone else with a friendship like theirs and it made me want that kind of relationship as well.

During his last 2 years on the planet dad had lung cancer. He never once showed the usual emotions one would display under the circumstances. He never said he was angry, confused, or even fearful. He just kept saying, "Well, I've prayed and asked the Lord to heal me. If He does, wonderful. If not, I'm ready to go home. I'll leave it up to Him." I could tell dad meant it. You could just see that he'd surrendered his body and his future to the Lord and that was that. No arguments or bargaining. Just surrender and trust.

Another nose pointing moment happened shortly after #4 was born. Dad had come to visit with us and meet the newest member of our family. One morning I stumbled upon him during his prayer time. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, bible in hand. Laying across his bible was a sheet of paper with a long list of names on it. I shamelessly stood in the doorway, watching my dad pray. His lips moved, but his eyes were open and his thumb was systematically sliding down the edge of the paper, touching upon each name as it went. I knew dad was praying for those people. When his thumb came to the end of the list dad stood up, saw me standing there and smiled. "Ready to walk?" And that was that. He had placed each and every person on that long list in the hands of God and was able to walk away.

I, on the other hand, often pray like I fish. I throw a person out to the Lord as if they were a worm on the end of a hook. Then I quickly reel the worm (or should I say person?) back in and carry him around with me all day not surrendered at all.

I hate how I often end my posts. I really need to work on that. La tee da, tee da. Lesson learned. Thee end. But I don't know what else to say in this instance. Dad showed me how to live, I need to do it. Thee end.

just reflecting....

A year ago my back blew up. No, not the whole thing-just one tiny piece. But that was enough for me. If my life has a check list of things for me to go through before I'm called home, "horrible" has now been checked off... I hope.

While the pain I felt was the scariest, worst experience I could ever imagine happening to me, things that have happened since then have made that time almost worth it.

In the first place, I saw just how deeply and truly my husband and sons love me. They went above and beyond the call of duty to take care of me and let me know they'd actually lay down their lives for me. It's been a humbling year in that regard and I feel as if I don't deserve them.

Because I was pretty much an invalid for 10 months the computer has become a blessing and a curse. I'm now addicted to it, but also incredibly thankful for it. The best part has been finding old friends on facebook and getting reacquainted with them and making new friends there as well.

I've done a lot of whining and fretting in the last year...wondering if I'll ever be as normal as I ever was before. (whatever that means) I was literally forced to S.T.O.P. for 10 months and that's not something I do easily. I like to function and when I couldn't I felt like, " Just dump me overboard. I'm no longer a productive member of society." On the other hand, I've been strangely thankful for this time. How many people are given the gift of being able to step out of the picture and just laze around for almost a year? The stresses that normally invade my head were invisible because I was so focused on pain and healing-nothing else mattered. So, depending on how you look at it, this was a deeply refreshing year.

I learned that I'm not as important as I thought I was. The earth went on spinning and the seasons came and went, people went about their business and life went on as usual-all without my help. This is a good thing to discover. Really, it is. God is God and He can manage things perfectly whether I'm up and running or not. My faith has deepened because of this experience. That alone does make it worth it.

I'm sure there are other things I've learned and more blessings I'll discover as I slowly creep away from this year. Sometimes we need a bird's eye view of an experience to see what God was up to. Sometimes, unfortunately, He never tells us. Even if this is all I ever see, it's enough.

I do have one more thing to add, just to keep it real. Over the last year I've often felt like I had a big target on my head. I wanted to borrow Frodo's elven cloak and hide under it until God "forgot" all about me. The only thing is, God didn't forget about me. He crawled right in there under the cloak with me, put His arms around me and held me through it. Sometimes it didn't feel that way but it's true. I can see it now.

How We Ended Up With A Bear-Setting the Record Straight

In the ten years we've had The Bear, only one person has ever had the bravery to bring the subject up. No one has ever asked us how, or why we have a Bear. No one has ever come right out and asked, "What on earth were you thinking?! Why did you have a baby at 40?! Are you nuts?" Even the guy who mentioned The Bear quoted The Bear's big brother. "Now, Barrett was a surprise wasn't he?"

Good grief. If the boy's big brother doesn't even know the story, and is assuming Barrett was a "mistake"...a "surprise"...it's time to set the record straight. If nothing else, that kid's brothers ought to know why he's here.

In many ways Barrett was a surprise. One doctor even called him a miracle. I was 39 when he was conceived. I have one ovary, had endometriosis, and a "damaged" falopian tube. That doctor said the only reason we were able to conceive a baby is because God wanted that baby conceived. (which is true in all cases but you get the point)

But, there's more to this story than that. He's way more than a miracle. He's an act of surrender, trust, submission, and hope.

It began really, about 19 years ago to the day. (give or take a few) I was pregnant with our 3rd baby. That pregnancy was a nightmare from the git-go. I'll spare you all the details, but it began with me laying on the couch throwing up if I even moved my head and ended with me spying the words, "Judy may need psychiatric help" on my medical chart during one of our prenatal visits.

We'd often wrestled with the whole birth control issue. Is it biblical? Do we, as Christians, have the right or freedom to tell the Creator God how often He can use our bodies to create? Sometimes we looked at birth control as a modern day gift, at other times a curse. If we really trust God and believe He knows what He's doing, can't we just trust Him to determine if and when we have babies?

Well, after that pregnancy I didn't care. I told my husband I was never going to ever have another baby again as long as I lived. And I angrily, fearfully looked God in the face and told Him the same thing. No way are you going to use this body to put another human on the planet. I'm done.

Those words became a wall between me and God. I don't think it was the idea of being pregnant that was the wall; it was me wanting control and telling God what He could and couldn't do with my life. But I was so afraid. Those words, "psychatric help" haunted me. I just couldn't face feeling that crazy again.

Finally, after 8 years of living with that wall between me and God I caved. I knew I had to surrender my will and let God have His. If I "went crazy" again, so be it. We really did want more babies, but my fear had held us back.

To make a long story shortish, I told God, and my husband, I was sorry for taking control and living in fear, rather than trust. We asked God for another baby, but told Him it was completely up to Him whether He gave us one or not. Let me tell you, I was shivering in my boots while this was going on. After one year of waiting and praying Mike and I had a chat. We decided that we'd waited a year for another baby and that was long enough. We weren't getting any younger and maybe we should just be happy with the 3 we had. We decided to go back on birth control and be done. But, it was too late. The Bear was already there, growing inside, we just didn't know it yet.

One doctor, when I was 38, had told me, "If you get pregnant now you'll have a nightmare pregnancy and a down syndrome baby." All through this pregnancy those words haunted me. I kept waiting for the nightmare to begin again and wondered if this baby would indeed have down syndrome.

The pregnancy turned out to be a normal one and so did the baby. The only glitch came when we actually had the baby. He weighed ten stinking pounds! That was a fun experience, let me tell you. And, btw, that's why we named him Barrett. His name is German and means, "Strong as a bear."

After this pregnancy we wondered about birth control again. Should we use it? Do we have the right to use it? We've finally concluded that it's between each couple and God. The bible doesn't seem clear on it, at least to us. So, this time we humbly prayed and said, "God, if it's ok with you, we'd like to be done having babies. We're old and we feel it...." And He said, "OK."

I"m not sure how to end this post...it did help me to write it out. As I re-read what I wrote I noticed there's a pattern in my life. I want control, I wrestle with God, He wins, good comes of it. I want control, I wrestle with God, He wins, good comes of it.
So anyway, that's how we ended up with The Bear.

I was just wondering if you've ever read The Chronicles of Narnia by C.S. Lewis? There are 7 books in the series. I've always loved the first 6 stories, but the 7th, "The Last Battle", was always a bit disturbing. Depressing. I didn't like it and if I could have, I would've erased the entire book.
Lately however, other than the bible, that 7th book has become my favorite book. Earlier this spring I read it out loud to my smallest son and as I read I grew more and more encouraged about life.

The story starts out on a bright sunny day in Narnia; it's a land full of sweet, carefree talking animals, dwarves, nymphs, and even a person or two.:-) Narnia is a country blessed by their Creator and His son Aslan. (Aslan is a lion in the story, but that's neither here nor there as far as this post goes.)

Anyway-all the creatures of Narnia live in peace with each other; they work and play in safety with hardly a care in the world. They know beyond a shadow of a doubt that Aslan is watching over them and loves them. As a result, they grow complacent and forget to watch out for enemies who might be near. They forget to protect themselves or their country.

And, sure enough, enemies do enter their land. They have a nasty little leader, an ape, who's completely selfish, stupid, and worst of all, a Narnian. He sets himself up as a dictator and tells them he alone has the ear of Aslan and that he has become the voice of Aslan. The simple creatures believe him and settle in to obey his every word. At first he gives simple orders that make sense to everyone, but little by little the ape begins to take more and more control of Narnia. He tells the people of Narnia they must work hard and turn over their earnings to him so he can use it to care for them. He takes more and more of their freedoms away and turns them into slaves. Those who disobey, or even argue with him are severely punished.

The little animals and other creatures of the country don't understand what's happening. They're confused and some begin to despair.

At about this point, when I was reading the story to my son, I started thinking about life. It just seems like it's getting harder and harder to live it with any sense of well being. People I know are hurting. They're losing loved ones; they're losing their health or their jobs. Families are decaying. Our country is changing and it's getting to be a very scary place to live-at least to me it is. Stress is on the rise. I think in many ways our faith is being tested in America like never before and, when I look around, it's very easy for me to give in to fear and despair.

OK-back to Narnia. She does have a king, but up to this point he's been oblivious to the plans and plots of the ape. He suddenly comes upon the ape and at first even he is deceived by the lies being told. But, little by little, as the story unfolds, the king remembers Aslan. He tells himself everything he knows about Aslan and the truth hits him. This ape is not the voice of Aslan. He's wicked and full of hate. His only goal is to destroy.

The king of Narnia, while still confused about what's going on in his country, knows what he must do. He must fight the ape. He knows it's a "hopeless" battle. The ape has too many on his side for the king and his little creatures to fight against. He knows he's going to die. But he also knows he cannot just surrender. He cannot despair. He has to fight for what's true and lovely and good until his life is over. He puts his trust in Aslan and chooses to fight for Him regardless of the consequences.


The story was just so encouraging to me. I look around and I see people whose lives are almost perfect, at least on the outside. Then I see others who are going through horrendous things-things no one should have to face. The Lord used The Last Battle to remind me that we are all in a battle. We are stuck here until our bodies die-we need to fight for what's true and lovely and good. We need to stand our ground and not give in to hopelessness or despair. We need to keep our eyes on the big picture; the eternal picture and remember that He loves us no matter what we're going through or may face. That there is a God and He wants us to keep on keeping on. He wants us to trust Him and depend on Him for the energy, hope, and peace we need to see it all through to the end. What we want, what we're really looking for in everything we do here, is Life with Him. We'll find a bit of that here and can find a bit of that now; but really, Life with Him won't begin until our life in these bodies is over. We're going to go through things that hurt; things that don't make sense or aren't fair. No matter what we need to keep on keeping on.

Some day I want to be able to say, "I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. Finally there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will give to me on that Day, and not to me only but also to all who have loved His appearing." 2 Tim. 4:7