I recently spent some time with a person who was experiencing what I can only describe as "agony of the soul". He was truly suffering as he ranted against all the people who have ever hurt him and also was suffering as he contemplated his many poor choices and failures. I felt so sorry for him and so inadequate for the task of trying to encourage him and assure him of God's love for him. In spite of the very real pain that he was in he still couldn't seem to grasp that there was any hope for him. It was as if he had made a decision to screw up his life and had also resigned himself to an eternity in hell, believing that there was no other option for a man such as himself. He was more willing to rail against the world's injustices than to even consider a different path. He also couldn't fathom trusting justice to God and yet he was so frustrated with his own inability to extract justice. I realized, as I listened to him, that too often I judge, criticize, nag, or attempt to manipulate a person but I don't really know what is going on inside them. What I witnessed that day was a person who was being eaten alive from the inside out. I asked him if he thought that all the hurts that he held onto and all the injustices he felt had been committed against him were any worse than the hurt that I had suffered at the hands of the man who had sworn to love and cherish me forever. (My girls tell me I always win when I pull out that card! ☺ ) I realized that though I had been hurt terribly and I still mourn the loss of my husband, I was not in the sad state that this man was. Had I ever been? I'm not sure. Certainly, when Paul first left me, my heartache was much rawer than it is now. I also had to look at my own failures in my marriage. But I always had the Lord right with me and I felt His presence and I never doubted that He would bring me through this and He has. As I ached over my mom's illness and death and even my own fears about inheriting a tendency towards Parkinson's, I was comforted by knowing that she would be forever with the Lord and that eventually, so would I. As I attempted to explain myself to the man crying in front of me, I found that God was ministering to me while I thought I was ministering to him. By expressing my thoughts and beliefs out loud to someone else, they were cemented in my mind. I was able to say, "Yes! I am His, praise God!" And I wouldn't trade that for anything. The pain we go through on this earth is nothing compared to the joy that will be ours in heaven. I was reminded of the words to the song, "Eagle's Wings". To be hidden in His love brings me to my knees and that is exactly where I need to be. Though it was difficult to watch, I was grateful for the glimpse into the human soul that was living (or trying to live) without the Lord. The pain of living without Him eclipses any earthly loss. I left that day, far more thankful for the peace that is mine and far more determined to pray for those still suffering and searching.
"Here I am waiting, abide in me I pray.
Here I am longing for You.
Hide me in Your love, bring me to my knees.
May I know Jesus more and more.
Come live in me, all my life take over.
Come breathe in me. I will rise on eagle's wings."
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YNiJZIs_tgk
Friday, July 27, 2012
Sunday, July 15, 2012
Reflections on a Garage Sale
So, my daughter, Sarah, decided that she wanted to do a garage sale. She was ready to get rid of some stuff and she lives right downtown so it is a great location. But, of course, since most women do not want to do anything alone, she invited me to join her. Translated, that means that I had to haul two trunk loads of crap to her house, work Friday night until 10 p.m. helping her organize stuff and then try to get up Saturday morning (my day off!) and get out and about by 8 or so.
I always have a thrift store pile going but I'd much rather go to a thrift to buy more stuff than sit on Sarah's front porch for 4 hours hocking our wares. But you know, I love my kids, so sometimes I gotta do stuff that isn't terribly exciting. (I'm polishing my halo right about now.)
I decided that I needed a little something special to get me going that morning so I offered to make a McDonald's run for me, Sarah, and my grandson, Gabriel. I hadn't had a sausage and egg biscuit in years and it sounded fabulous. I set my alarm for 6:30 a.m. and hit the snooze button about 9 times, finally coming to with a shock at about 7:30. I threw myself out of bed, tossed on some shorts, spit on my hair, and ran out the door. I didn't even brush my teeth! I was shocked to see that the McDonald's was absolutely packed at 8:15 in the morning. I mean, you would have thought it was a famous gourmet restaurant! It was standing room only. Good thing I was "to go". I ordered the breakfast platter for Gabriel. I figured it was an assortment so he was bound to be happy with at least some of it. After I had ordered, I noticed this large number posted by the picture of the "platter". It was "1090". I looked again, squinted a little, and realized that next to the number 1090, in small letters, was the word "calories". Holy Smokes!! One thousand ninety calories just in the breakfast? Looked again - my biscuit breakfast had 510 calories. Plus, in a fit of abandon, I had also ordered hash browns. Add another 150 calories. Whatever. It was 8:15 on a Saturday morning, I looked like a slob, and I was just too tired to care. And the day had just begun!
I arrived at Sarah's with our breakfasts, which now contained enough calories to feed a small village for several days. Sarah had a wonderful attitude. She had been up much earlier than me and she and Gabriel had already neatly arranged everything onto her front lawn. It was a pitiful display. We really had mostly clothes which aren't the biggest draw at a garage sale. We would watch some people slow down and do the "drive by" and then keep on going. Now, mind you, this was crap that just the other night I wanted to dump at the AmVet trailer. Now, I was taking it personally that no one wanted to sort through my crap and pay me what I thought it was worth! Eventually, there were a few rushes and sales picked up. I was happy to at least make back the cost of my breakfast and Sarah did quite a bit better than me. During lulls, we chatted and looked through each other's stuff. I ended up loading a fair amount back into my car. For example, Sarah had seven champagne flutes that never sold. You know I have quite an active social life so I figured I could always use more champagne flutes. Score! I had donated a pair of earrings to the sale because Sarah had told me I should never wear them again. Come to find out, they never made it out to the lawn. She kept them! Hmmm. Oh well. They will look better on her.
Lots of very nice people stopped by. One group of four women arrived in an Escalade. They were having too much fun! One of Sarah's items was a small crystal ice bucket. One of these ladies was looking at it and commenting on how she liked it but that it wouldn't hold much ice. Her friend told her she should go ahead and get it. The woman replied, "It's so small, I would just have to fill it with ice and pour my booze right into it and drink out of it." We decided we liked her style. One man came by and wanted to know if we had any guns for sale. Um, is that legal we wondered? The 80 year old neighbor lady from down the street stopped by and we learned a lot about her history of flea marketing as a business, when her husband had died, where each of her sisters lived, etc. You get the idea. The nice thing was, we took the time to listen to her. In fact, Sarah was great about asking her questions and encouraging her to talk. We had no where else to be and our Craig's List ad said the sale went until noon so technically, we were working and were legally bound to sit on the porch and chat with strangers until then.
Sarah was trying to foster entrepreneurship in Gabriel. He had helped her drag everything outside so that had earned him two 12-packs of soda. He was supposed to try to sell them for a buck each and he would get to keep his profits. Several of Sarah's friends very sweetly stopped in just to buy soda from Gabriel. He got off to a bit of a rough start. His first customer was a nice young woman who had recently gotten married. Sarah had been her wedding coordinator. It was a little early for Gabriel so he needed a bit of prodding to semi-politely ask her whether she wanted Coke or Sprite but as the morning wore on, he warmed to the task. Pretty soon, he was sitting out there hollering at the browsers and actually selling more than me! The highlight of his day was when Sarah's friend, Robert, drove up. He had come just to buy soda and surprised Gabriel buy buying all ten of the remaining Sprites. Suddenly, Gabriel was very protective of his stash of money and quite excited about his earnings. I actually managed to sell my king sized comforter. It was in great shape. I just can't fit it in my washing machine. I hope the people who bought it don't mind the cat barf that precipitated the sale.
Finally, noon arrived and we began to pack up. We had one other family group stop and we let them take whatever they wanted. It saved us the trouble. Then we loaded up what was left and off we went to the AmVet trailer. I was home by 1:30 p.m. and was worn out. Would I do it again? Well, I figured that between the prep time before the sale and the time spent the day of the sale, I made about $4 an hour. Frankly, I'd rather sleep in. But...there were a few things that made the day remarkable...
I'm blessed to have daughters who don't seem to mind my company so spending a morning with Sarah was a blessing.
I enjoyed seeing the camaraderie of women as they enjoyed a morning together and was reminded of my own good friends and what they mean to me.
I was humbled as I watched families gather up clothes and be grateful for them.
I was thankful that I did, eventually, make it to the AmVet trailer.
And lastly, I must not eat breakfast at McDonald's!
I always have a thrift store pile going but I'd much rather go to a thrift to buy more stuff than sit on Sarah's front porch for 4 hours hocking our wares. But you know, I love my kids, so sometimes I gotta do stuff that isn't terribly exciting. (I'm polishing my halo right about now.)
I decided that I needed a little something special to get me going that morning so I offered to make a McDonald's run for me, Sarah, and my grandson, Gabriel. I hadn't had a sausage and egg biscuit in years and it sounded fabulous. I set my alarm for 6:30 a.m. and hit the snooze button about 9 times, finally coming to with a shock at about 7:30. I threw myself out of bed, tossed on some shorts, spit on my hair, and ran out the door. I didn't even brush my teeth! I was shocked to see that the McDonald's was absolutely packed at 8:15 in the morning. I mean, you would have thought it was a famous gourmet restaurant! It was standing room only. Good thing I was "to go". I ordered the breakfast platter for Gabriel. I figured it was an assortment so he was bound to be happy with at least some of it. After I had ordered, I noticed this large number posted by the picture of the "platter". It was "1090". I looked again, squinted a little, and realized that next to the number 1090, in small letters, was the word "calories". Holy Smokes!! One thousand ninety calories just in the breakfast? Looked again - my biscuit breakfast had 510 calories. Plus, in a fit of abandon, I had also ordered hash browns. Add another 150 calories. Whatever. It was 8:15 on a Saturday morning, I looked like a slob, and I was just too tired to care. And the day had just begun!
I arrived at Sarah's with our breakfasts, which now contained enough calories to feed a small village for several days. Sarah had a wonderful attitude. She had been up much earlier than me and she and Gabriel had already neatly arranged everything onto her front lawn. It was a pitiful display. We really had mostly clothes which aren't the biggest draw at a garage sale. We would watch some people slow down and do the "drive by" and then keep on going. Now, mind you, this was crap that just the other night I wanted to dump at the AmVet trailer. Now, I was taking it personally that no one wanted to sort through my crap and pay me what I thought it was worth! Eventually, there were a few rushes and sales picked up. I was happy to at least make back the cost of my breakfast and Sarah did quite a bit better than me. During lulls, we chatted and looked through each other's stuff. I ended up loading a fair amount back into my car. For example, Sarah had seven champagne flutes that never sold. You know I have quite an active social life so I figured I could always use more champagne flutes. Score! I had donated a pair of earrings to the sale because Sarah had told me I should never wear them again. Come to find out, they never made it out to the lawn. She kept them! Hmmm. Oh well. They will look better on her.
Lots of very nice people stopped by. One group of four women arrived in an Escalade. They were having too much fun! One of Sarah's items was a small crystal ice bucket. One of these ladies was looking at it and commenting on how she liked it but that it wouldn't hold much ice. Her friend told her she should go ahead and get it. The woman replied, "It's so small, I would just have to fill it with ice and pour my booze right into it and drink out of it." We decided we liked her style. One man came by and wanted to know if we had any guns for sale. Um, is that legal we wondered? The 80 year old neighbor lady from down the street stopped by and we learned a lot about her history of flea marketing as a business, when her husband had died, where each of her sisters lived, etc. You get the idea. The nice thing was, we took the time to listen to her. In fact, Sarah was great about asking her questions and encouraging her to talk. We had no where else to be and our Craig's List ad said the sale went until noon so technically, we were working and were legally bound to sit on the porch and chat with strangers until then.
Sarah was trying to foster entrepreneurship in Gabriel. He had helped her drag everything outside so that had earned him two 12-packs of soda. He was supposed to try to sell them for a buck each and he would get to keep his profits. Several of Sarah's friends very sweetly stopped in just to buy soda from Gabriel. He got off to a bit of a rough start. His first customer was a nice young woman who had recently gotten married. Sarah had been her wedding coordinator. It was a little early for Gabriel so he needed a bit of prodding to semi-politely ask her whether she wanted Coke or Sprite but as the morning wore on, he warmed to the task. Pretty soon, he was sitting out there hollering at the browsers and actually selling more than me! The highlight of his day was when Sarah's friend, Robert, drove up. He had come just to buy soda and surprised Gabriel buy buying all ten of the remaining Sprites. Suddenly, Gabriel was very protective of his stash of money and quite excited about his earnings. I actually managed to sell my king sized comforter. It was in great shape. I just can't fit it in my washing machine. I hope the people who bought it don't mind the cat barf that precipitated the sale.
Finally, noon arrived and we began to pack up. We had one other family group stop and we let them take whatever they wanted. It saved us the trouble. Then we loaded up what was left and off we went to the AmVet trailer. I was home by 1:30 p.m. and was worn out. Would I do it again? Well, I figured that between the prep time before the sale and the time spent the day of the sale, I made about $4 an hour. Frankly, I'd rather sleep in. But...there were a few things that made the day remarkable...
I'm blessed to have daughters who don't seem to mind my company so spending a morning with Sarah was a blessing.
I enjoyed seeing the camaraderie of women as they enjoyed a morning together and was reminded of my own good friends and what they mean to me.
I was humbled as I watched families gather up clothes and be grateful for them.
I was thankful that I did, eventually, make it to the AmVet trailer.
And lastly, I must not eat breakfast at McDonald's!
Monday, July 2, 2012
A Hard One
Been thinking some hard thoughts lately. Or maybe, more accurately, I should say that I have been avoiding thinking them. They touch just at the edge of my conscious mind before I push them away. I don't want to let them in. I think it's because I have no idea where they will end up. Too many thoughts rattling around in my head and I can't sort them all out. But it's two in the morning and, thanks to the prednisone I am currently on, I am still awake. I figured I might as well do a little exploration. Not sure if it's wise to share so personally but somehow, this writing is therapeutic for me and maybe my crazy thoughts are in someone else's head too.
It has occurred to me that I don't cry much at all any more over my failed marriage. I don't think it's that I'm over it. I'm wondering if I just needed to take a break from the effort of trying to understand what has happened. Will I ever make sense of an event that was so wrong? I doubt it. But I can't seem to let it go either. Do I still love him, miss him? I'm sure that's part of it, in spite of all that has happened. But there is much more and at the root of it is my pride. His total rejection and abandonment of me has thrown me. Am I so unworthy? So unlovable? I know I was far from perfect but when I'm rational, I also know that it probably wasn't much about me. His hurts, insecurities, desires, and weaknesses eventually got the upper hand. My weaknesses and failings contributed to the mix. And yet, I missed it for so long. He seems to me to be an illusion, someone I thought I knew but obviously did not. Again, my pride takes a beating. I mean, after all, shouldn't I have seen it coming? Couldn't I have done something to help both of us? As I look back on my life it seems robbed of all validation, like none of it was what it seemed. There must have been very real times, wonderful times, but now I question it all.
There are moments when I want to talk to him so badly and many days when I honestly wonder how he is and, I'm a little embarrassed to say, some times when I worry about him. I can't even keep track of how many times I wonder if he ever misses me, thinks about me, imagines how I am. I suspect he figures I'm fine, figures I never really needed him, figures he has left me in the capable care and comfort of a father, daughters, grandchildren, friends. And to a large degree, that is true. I am fine. I really am! But that doesn't mean I don't hurt.
We can never, on this earth, escape the pain that accompanies living on a planet corrupted by sin. As a Christian, I have the Lord as my resource and strength and certainly, it is only because of His graciousness to me that I can say, "I'm fine." But the hard part is accepting that God does not remove me from the pain. Nor does He remove the pain from me. I am a doer, a follower of lists, an administrator. Can't it just be that I need to pray more? Do more Bible Study? Minister to others more? Then life wouldn't hurt so much? Certainly, I would benefit from all those things. But no matter, my joy will not be complete until I am lifted from this world and safely in the arms of my Father. So that is what my struggle boils down to - accepting the pain while rejoicing in the blood of Jesus that saved me and the Glory of God that awaits me.
Please don't think that this is a depressing state I'm in. In fact, I just might be about ready to burst out the other side of "down in the dumps". Often, when I let myself think too hard, I can relate to the philosophy that says, "life sucks and then you die!" But if I continued in that frame of mind I would miss all that God has for me here and now. When I bang on heaven's door and complain to God and beg Him to ease my pain right now, I deprive myself of what He can offer me in the meantime. I owe my life to Him and the work that was accomplished on the cross and my future lies in the hope I have in His eternal promises. It all sounds so lofty but grabbing hold of this truth is what I want to make real in my life. My pain pales in comparison to most people's lives and I feel insignificant even talking about it. But, it's where I'm at and it's my pain so I have to deal with it. Comparing myself to someone else will only make me feel guilty (I'm a master at that) and won't help any in the long run.
My struggle is not really because of a failed marriage. That just happens to be a symptom in my life of the sin that permeates our world. I want the Lord to change me, from the inside out, so that my perspective is completely different. I want to live like I've already got one foot off this earth and reaching towards heaven, holding out a hand to reach for His, able to cry because it hurts but also to sing because I know what awaits me.
It has occurred to me that I don't cry much at all any more over my failed marriage. I don't think it's that I'm over it. I'm wondering if I just needed to take a break from the effort of trying to understand what has happened. Will I ever make sense of an event that was so wrong? I doubt it. But I can't seem to let it go either. Do I still love him, miss him? I'm sure that's part of it, in spite of all that has happened. But there is much more and at the root of it is my pride. His total rejection and abandonment of me has thrown me. Am I so unworthy? So unlovable? I know I was far from perfect but when I'm rational, I also know that it probably wasn't much about me. His hurts, insecurities, desires, and weaknesses eventually got the upper hand. My weaknesses and failings contributed to the mix. And yet, I missed it for so long. He seems to me to be an illusion, someone I thought I knew but obviously did not. Again, my pride takes a beating. I mean, after all, shouldn't I have seen it coming? Couldn't I have done something to help both of us? As I look back on my life it seems robbed of all validation, like none of it was what it seemed. There must have been very real times, wonderful times, but now I question it all.
There are moments when I want to talk to him so badly and many days when I honestly wonder how he is and, I'm a little embarrassed to say, some times when I worry about him. I can't even keep track of how many times I wonder if he ever misses me, thinks about me, imagines how I am. I suspect he figures I'm fine, figures I never really needed him, figures he has left me in the capable care and comfort of a father, daughters, grandchildren, friends. And to a large degree, that is true. I am fine. I really am! But that doesn't mean I don't hurt.
We can never, on this earth, escape the pain that accompanies living on a planet corrupted by sin. As a Christian, I have the Lord as my resource and strength and certainly, it is only because of His graciousness to me that I can say, "I'm fine." But the hard part is accepting that God does not remove me from the pain. Nor does He remove the pain from me. I am a doer, a follower of lists, an administrator. Can't it just be that I need to pray more? Do more Bible Study? Minister to others more? Then life wouldn't hurt so much? Certainly, I would benefit from all those things. But no matter, my joy will not be complete until I am lifted from this world and safely in the arms of my Father. So that is what my struggle boils down to - accepting the pain while rejoicing in the blood of Jesus that saved me and the Glory of God that awaits me.
Please don't think that this is a depressing state I'm in. In fact, I just might be about ready to burst out the other side of "down in the dumps". Often, when I let myself think too hard, I can relate to the philosophy that says, "life sucks and then you die!" But if I continued in that frame of mind I would miss all that God has for me here and now. When I bang on heaven's door and complain to God and beg Him to ease my pain right now, I deprive myself of what He can offer me in the meantime. I owe my life to Him and the work that was accomplished on the cross and my future lies in the hope I have in His eternal promises. It all sounds so lofty but grabbing hold of this truth is what I want to make real in my life. My pain pales in comparison to most people's lives and I feel insignificant even talking about it. But, it's where I'm at and it's my pain so I have to deal with it. Comparing myself to someone else will only make me feel guilty (I'm a master at that) and won't help any in the long run.
My struggle is not really because of a failed marriage. That just happens to be a symptom in my life of the sin that permeates our world. I want the Lord to change me, from the inside out, so that my perspective is completely different. I want to live like I've already got one foot off this earth and reaching towards heaven, holding out a hand to reach for His, able to cry because it hurts but also to sing because I know what awaits me.
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