Monday, December 30, 2013

A Crisis of Faith

I've been sick for almost the whole month of December. Maybe that's it - my excuse for how I'm feeling. Or maybe just because the holidays are still a little hard, now that our family dynamics have changed - Paul gone, my mom too. I want to find some freedom from the burdens that I'm carrying but I can't. For reasons I don't understand I have lost faith to some degree. I didn't recognize it for a long time. But I realize that I have taken on so much anxiety and am assuming so much responsibility for so many things. I've always had that tendency but I had been working hard on that issue. I thought I was doing pretty well. Maybe that's my excuse - I'm tired. Tired of trying to keep it all together, trying to put on a happy face, trying to pretend that it's all good. But there is no excuse. I know that. When I get anxious that means that I am trying to play God, plain and simple. I am not accepting the circumstances that He has allowed in my life. I am not believing that He knows best. I am not claiming what is mine as a child of the King. God, forgive me.

How long have I been procrastinating? How many nights have I watched T.V. until I could no longer keep my eyes open just so I could avoid talking to God about my fears? Again, it didn't feel like a conscience choice. I didn't see what I was doing. And maybe this makes no sense because you haven't avoided God. But I have. Thankfully, God is pointing that out to me. And I am ashamed.

James 1:6-8
"But let him ask in faith without any doubting, for the one who doubts is like the surf of the sea driven and tossed by the wind. For let not that man expect that he will receive anything from the Lord, being a double-minded man, unstable in all his ways."                                          

There are some things that I don't pray about very often and yet they are huge, personal heartaches. They are on my mind almost constantly. So why don't I pray about them constantly? I think because, if I am honest, I don't really believe God is going to change anything. I acknowledge that God could change them, but doubt that He will. Why? The Bible tells me that God longs to bless me. Me! In spite of all my weaknesses, my unspoken doubts and fears, because He loves me, He wants to bless me. Why can't I accept that fully? It's as if I think I still have to pay for my sins. Again - playing God. God wants to favor me but I have to trust Him to do it. I can't do it myself.

Instead of avoiding God because I am doubting, I need to run to Him and confess. I need to remember that I can bring anything to Him without fear, even my weak faith. And it is God, Himself, who will strengthen my faith. I cannot force my faith to grow merely by my own willpower. I am such a slow learner. I know this stuff. And then I set aside what I know. I think that's why I write about it. Not only does it help clarify for me what I'm thinking but it serves as a reminder of what God is teaching me. I'll need reminders often.

So now what? No fireworks going off. No radical, overnight change. I am, though, reassured. God knows me, He chose me, and He will never leave me. He always listens to me and is surprised by nothing. He will lift me out of this dark little hole that I've crawled into if only I ask.

Psalm 34:4
"I sought the Lord, and He answered me, and delivered me from all my fears."

Psalm 62:5-6
"My soul, wait in silence for God only,
For my hope is from Him.
He only is my rock and my salvation,
My stronghold; I shall not be shaken."

Saturday, December 21, 2013

I'm ...

What is it about being single that makes me think about my youth? I believe I am content in the circumstances that God has allowed. I believe I have a forgiving spirit. I know that God is all-sufficient and that He wants me to totally depend on Him. And I want to. But there is something nagging at me and it's silly. I don't want to look old. I want to lose weight. I want to be perky, slim, confident, capable, and well, younger! And for what? Or should I say for whom? My kids and grand kids don't care what I look like (unless I'm wearing tie dye). I'm not dating anyone and would undoubtedly have a panic attack if I attempted dating. God certainly accepts me just the way I am. But the fact that Paul is gone has left me so unbalanced. I should now have complete and utter freedom to be and look however I choose. No one sees my lime green knee socks under my extra large flannel P.J.s. No one. And maybe that's the crux of the matter. God is my all-in-all but He, in His wisdom, designed us for relationship, not just with Him but with others. The main "other" in my life was my husband. That post is vacant now and while most times I'm O.K. with that, I'd be lying if I tried to convince myself that I don't miss having someone just for me. Don't get me wrong. I'm so blessed by my children and grandchildren. I can't even imagine being without them. A husband, though, plays a different role in a woman's life. So occasionally, I come home and wish I had someone to sit with in front of the fire.


Now here's where it gets a little weird - it's on those occasional nights that I begin to look at myself and all that I think is wrong with me. I start off with my wrinkles and weight and if I let it go, it quickly progresses to my abilities (or inabilities) as a wife and mother. If I continue in that vein, in the end, I deem myself completely unworthy of anyone (besides God) loving me. But is that what God intends for me? Sometimes, God reminds me of His constant presence by allowing distressing things to happen that drive me to Him. I'm honestly grateful for that because I don't naturally go to Him when all is well. And let's face it, if I believe that I am God's child, uniquely created by Him, perfectly designed in His image, what am I saying about the Lord? Am I saying, "God, you screwed up when you made me"? I need to hang onto His perspective. If I can remember who I am in God's eyes it just might change my whole view of myself. (It certainly should but I'm just saying, it seems that I struggle with that idea a bit.) I just recently heard the song "Forgiven" by Sanctus Real and it sounds so much like the stuff that I do - I let a lot of crap into my mind, especially when I'm alone at night.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sRKAXU1Fjic

"Forgiven" by Sanctus Real

Well the past is playing with my head
And failure knocks me down again
I’m reminded of the wrong
That I have said and done
And that devil just won't let me forget

In this life
I know what I’ve been
But here in your arms
I know what I am

[chorus]
I’m forgiven
I’m forgiven
And I don’t have to carry
The weight of who I’ve been
Cause I’m forgiven

My mistakes are running through my mind
And I’ll relive my days, in the middle of the night
When I struggle with my pain, wrestle with my pride
Sometimes I feel alone, and I cry

In this life
I know what I’ve been
But here in your arms
I know what I am

[back to chorus]

When I don't fit in and I don’t feel like I belong anywhere
When I don’t measure up to much in this life
Oh, I’m a treasure in the arms of Christ ‘cause

[back to chorus]


I'm "a treasure in the arms of Christ." Who cares if I've gained a little weight? Who cares if I actually look my age? I do but should I? It only causes me discontent. God accepts me and loves me as I am and I should love myself in the same way. That doesn't mean I have license to do whatever I want. I'm still responsible for my actions and I'm still expected to continue to grow to be more like Christ. However, in the meantime, I need to get over myself and enjoy how God has blessed me. Because... He has!!

Saturday, November 30, 2013

Who Am I?

I was talking to an old friend from high school the other night - someone I hadn't actually spoken to in over 30 years. I commented that, "You don't know me at all anymore. We haven't known each other since we were practically children." The immediate response was, "So, who are you? Tell me about yourself now."

I started to think about that and realized that it's a tough question for me. My life, for many years, has been mostly consumed and defined by husband, children, work, and ministry. Lots of fun, very rewarding, very busy, and extremely easy to avoid even thinking about my true, inner self - the Debbie that nobody but me and God know. But now, the husband is gone, the kids are grown, and lots of ministry has been put on hold. That leaves me with work, a fair amount of baggage, and the time to analyze and ponder that baggage. I've done an endless amount of pondering. But when asked to describe myself, I didn't come up with much right away. I was trying to avoid describing myself in terms of my relationship to someone else - you know, Paul's wife, mom to four girls, Grammy to eight, etc. Don't misunderstand me. I was content to be Paul's wife and am honored and privileged to be the daughter, mother, sister, Grammy, and friend that I am. But I exist outside of these precious relationships. Maybe I even have hopes, dreams, hobbies, etc. that belong only to me. So, because I am curious, I'm going to give it a try.

Will the real Debbie Brown please step forward?

I like to think that, first and foremost, I am a Christian - a follower of Jesus. Considering that is what I think of first, I realize that it is also what I struggle with the most. I won't belabor the point - previous posts speak to some of my struggles. However, it would be accurate to say that I am continually aware of my shortcomings and often feel frustrated with my lack of discipline, faith, and trust.

I fiercely love my family!

I love to read. I am particularly fond of murder mysteries but I try to limit myself because they really have no redeeming value. And I love the Die Hard movies.

I have bitten my fingernails for 50 years. Safe to say, I'm never gonna quit.

I love music! I wish I had some musical ability but that only exists when I'm driving alone and can belt it out for no one to hear. Love praise music. Love the Eagles, Loggins & Messina, CSNY, Simon & Garfunkel.

I daydream about traveling in a tiny little motorhome but for the most part, I'm really a homebody.

I wish I was a writer. A legit one.

I used to think I knew it all. Now, I realize, I know less than I ever imagined.

I frequently (if not always) give unasked for and/or unwanted advice. I also seem to feel that it is my duty to share with someone the worst case scenario of whatever is going on with them. "Debbie Downer" is my nickname.

I love Cheddar and Sour Cream chips, Rollos, Goldfish crackers, Mrs. Richardson's caramel sauce, Snickers Bars, and Pinot Grigio. I also love broccoli. I can live without beef.

I hate wearing a bra, have hated it from the beginning, will hate it until the day I die or until I give them up for lent, whichever comes first.

I enjoy sewing. And I enjoy that I have passed on that passion to some of my girls, all of whom are creative in various ways.

I'm task oriented, driven to be productive before I allow myself the freedom to just sit.

I love animals and hate to see them hurt or suffering. I'm probably nicer to animals than I am to people.

I love living in the country. Love the peacefulness, the solitude, the beauty, and the lack of CC & Rs.

I tend to take responsibility and blame for everything that is wrong in the lives of those I love.

I love to watch sunsets. While I appreciate a beautiful sunrise, I prefer not to be awake then. I am definitely a night owl.

I have a seriously bad nighttime snacking habit.

I tend to push myself to keep going, no matter what is going on around me.

I'm not a big drama-queen. In fact, I get uncomfortable showing too much emotion. I'm a little uptight.

I am not comfortable or at peace with my body.

I hate to exercise, hate to sweat, hate to breathe hard. I also hate yard work.

I love to sit in front of a fire in the dark and just talk.

I am a peacemaker and very uncomfortable with conflict.

I can't dance. But I can keep a hula-hoop going like nobody's business.

I have a problem with guilt. I still feel guilty for stuff I did as a teenager. Consequently, since I have stored up guilt for many, many years, I often miss the joy of God's forgiveness.

I wish I were stylish but I love tie dye.

So, enough of this little jaunt into my psyche. Maybe it's good for me to take a look at myself now and again. So much in my life has changed and at times, I feel a little lost and uncertain. Gratefully, God keeps walking alongside me as I bumble along. I may not know exactly who I am but my Creator does.

Oh, and I wish I could draw or paint or something beautiful like that.















Friday, November 8, 2013

One More Tucson Post

It was hard to believe it when we finally pulled up to Tammera's house. The trip there, while having some fun moments, had seemed endless. There were hugs all around, a family we hadn't seen in almost 9 months, and lots of catching up to do. Callan, Tammera's youngest, had been just a newborn the last time I'd seen him.



I was thrilled that he wasn't scared to death of me! And Audrey and Asher were happy and sweet as usual.


We spent four full days with the Chans and though it seemed short, it was a precious time. One of the things that we enjoy is sewing together. I was honored to have been able to teach my girls to sew and we used to have whole days where we would sew and craft and chat (and eat and drink) together. Tammera has missed that. So she saved a project for us and we were able to spend one whole day doing just that - sewing, eating, talking and sharing. Eli graciously took the kids for most of the day so that we could spread out. Tammera wanted to make curtains for her dining room. Melissa and I had hauled our sewing machines all the way to Tucson and we had our own projects to work on. We loved the fabric Tammera had picked out for her curtains but it took us a while to get it cut just right. See how perfectly the pattern lines up?


The Chans had a brand new kitten named Gandolf and he was pesty and entertaining. He will grow up to be very tolerant since Asher has a tendency to carry him around by his neck.


Tammera took us to a fabric store one day. If you know any of us, you know that we stockpile fabric. I certainly don't need anymore yet I am always on the lookout for a beautiful piece at a great price. We had such fun together. I loved watching Melissa and Tammera. When they were younger, they fought and got mad at each other but loved each other too. Now that they're all grown up, there is no more fighting, just loving. Every time we left the house they insisted that they get a "Concrete Mixer" (some sort of ice cream thing) before we returned home, even if we were going to have dinner right away. I couldn't change their minds. Tammera's logic was that she could eat a Mixer, then would feel bad herself, then would be motivated to do her Insanity workout. Melissa blamed it on the fact that it was Monsoon season and she was afraid of the storms. Whatever the excuses, both girls enjoyed a plentiful supply of ice cream, another sweet memory made.

It was very hot the week we were in Tucson so going outside with the kids was not really an option until the last day we were there. Tammera and Eli took us up to Mt. Lemmon. We had to take two cars to get us all there and Eli was so sweet and let us girls ride in my car while he took the kids in their car. It took us about an hour to get there but it was so worth it. It was a beautiful day. Because Mt. Lemmon is at such a higher elevation, it was nice and cool. We went on a little hike, the kids played in the creek, we had a picnic, and ended the day at the Cookie Cabin. It was wonderful!



This is how Callan hiked!

And here's how Melissa hiked - arms up so nature wouldn't touch her!





And finally, the Cookie Cabin!



The kids were worn out but happy. We all reluctantly left the coolness of the mountain and headed home. The girls and I made a detour and did a little shopping, mostly for Melissa. We met the nicest sales woman who pulled up a $50 coupon on her phone for Mel! We spent our last evening together watching a "Friends" marathon. Long after Eli and the kids were in bed, we stayed up, not wanting our time together to end. As we watched the final episode of "Friends", both girls were crying and even I (reputed to be a hard-ass), had a tear in my eye. Weeks after I got home, I watched some "Friends" but found that it just wasn't the same. I needed my girls with me to make it work.

We left the next morning for our 2 day drive home. We had a few adventures like getting caught in a huge, blinding rainstorm, some lone stoner guy trying to pick up Melissa at the hotel hot tub, and wandering around looking for a place called The Fruit Depot (supposedly the biggest fruit stand in California). It didn't turn out to be much but we both felt compelled to buy something since we had spent an hour looking for it.


I've already forgotten a lot of the things we did on the trip but I haven't forgotten the feeling of family being together. Melissa and Donny are in the process of an adoption right now and so that has been foremost in our minds. I realized that God, in His graciousness, has shown us multiple kinds of adoption. Of course, most importantly, we are adopted as His children through His Son's sacrifice. Donny and Melissa hope to provide a home for a baby that someone else is unable to care for. And many years ago, God brought Tammera into our lives and because of that, I now have a lovely 4th daughter, son-in-law, and three more grandkids. I can't really even remember being without Tammera. And though I didn't birth her and we aren't related by blood, strange similarities abound. Both Asher and Felicity, Jenny's daughter, were diagnosed with hypotonia and it affected their speech. Both Asher and Kian, Jen's 3rd, are very small for their age. Logan, Jenny's oldest, and Callan and Asher suffered extreme constipation as infants. All four of my daughters are creative. We've all had trouble at times with sleeping. All that to say, I don't think of Tammera differently than the others and I often forget that she, technically, sprung from someone else. She's mine and always will be and her family is now mine as well. Melissa and Donny have been warned that adopted children can have bonding issues. I know that is true but I know we also have a great God who can accomplish anything He chooses to. He will bond their adopted child to them just like He bonded Tammera so completely into our family that Melissa and I risked four days in the car together to see them.


Friday, October 4, 2013

Tucson Trip, Day 2

"There's a TOGO's!" This was said by Melissa in a particularly disgusting voice. We had checked out of our hotel and driven across the street trying to find Starbucks and then realized that we were headed away from the freeway. We were attempting to get turned around when we spotted the restaurant. I didn't know what a "TOGO's" was but you may remember from my last post that we had hiked ten miles, (according to Melissa), the previous evening and had to forage for food in the wilderness. And yet, here it was, food for the ordering, if we had just turned our heads in the opposite direction the night before.

Anyway, off we went for another full day of driving through barren wasteland. The road to Tucson is literally through "No Man's Land" and we were challenged to entertain ourselves throughout the day. Melissa decided that she needed to make a list of songs that she would later put on my iPod for me. She called this my "Manhater List."  Apparently, since I am now single, I need songs that I can listen to when I'm feeling down. I guess she didn't think Praise songs would do the trick, but instead, Manhater songs were required to fire me up! I haven't yet heard the fruits of her labor but I am looking forward to it. To be fair, I had already memorized all the words to Carrie Underwood's "Before He Cheats" and it had cheered me up a time or two. Speaking of Carrie Underwood, I introduced Melissa to Carrie's rendition of "How Great Thou Art". So beautiful!

http://www.godtube.com/watch/?v=KL6WYLNX

And she turned me onto an awesome version of our national anthem by Madison Rising.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c8C7i9kdEf8

Besides the "Manhater List" we also enjoyed a game we called "Life Questions." This involved writing down random questions that came to us as we laughed, sang, talked, and yelled across Arizona. We intended to research these questions when we got home but I am just now getting around to it. Some of those questions were:

How did Jimi Hendrix die?  
                                         

He died on September 18, 1970 in London, having choked to death on his own vomit.



What is the meaning of "Hotel California?"


What makes a person see stars?



We were covering some deep ground. I told her about a video I had watched where Billy Joel had been so gracious to a college student so she added that to her "Life Questions" list to check out later.


Lest I paint the drive as completely unimaginative, there was some beauty along the way. I was fascinated by the cloud formations and in fact, I pulled off the freeway at one point and wound through little side streets trying to get to a good spot to take a picture. Melissa thought I was slightly wacky!



We found odd things amusing. Sensory deprivation will do that to you. All across Arizona we saw this sign:


In case you can't read it, it says, "Drive Hammered, Get Nailed." Many a joke was made about the signs but most of them aren't appropriate to share here.

Melissa was taking a turn driving as we got closer to Phoenix but she had only been behind the wheel for about 45 minutes when the unthinkable happened!



Yep! You guessed it! Our peaceful, boring, two-lane road widened, first to three lanes and then more. Melissa started to panic and she had to quickly pull off so that we could switch places. The rest of the trip was uneventful except for the truly tragic moments we spent driving right by IKEA and deciding that we really shouldn't stop. I think I may still regret that decision but we knew if we gave in to that primal urge we wouldn't get to Tucson until the next day. Phoenix is only two hours from Tucson and we were anxious to see Tammera and her sweet family. We soldiered on and arrived, hot and tired, excited and elated, just in time for dinner.

More to follow...



Saturday, September 21, 2013

Tucson Trip, Day 1

  1. Urban Dictionary: soul clap 

    www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=soul%20clap
    The "soul clap" is a particular rhythm: it means clapping on the notes of a beat.

    My daughter Melissa and I drove to Tucson a few weeks ago and spent some time with our sweet Tammera and her family. You can read a little bit about Tammera  here and here. You're probably wondering what "soul clapping" has to do with this trip. We'll get to that later.

    Day 1:  Delayed Start

    We had planned to leave around 8:00 a.m. on a Saturday. Melissa rode into work with Donny and I was supposed to pick her up at Idler's. She was forced to be on time. I was not. Consequently, I arrived around 8:30 a.m. Not too bad. We set about transferring Melissa's stuff to my car. That's when we discovered the first problem of the morning. I had put a bottle of carpet shampoo in my trunk. It was a special kind (with fancy enzymes) and I was taking it to Tammera. Somehow, it had tipped over and the lid popped open and almost the entire bottle had spilled in my trunk, soaking the carpet as well as the whole bottom of my suitcase. Poor Donny set about cleaning up the mess. He was awesome! He even had to get the wet/dry vac from his work. But finally, the situation was remedied. We went back to packing the car. We had to arrange things carefully because we took a lot of stuff, including two sewing machines! We were heavily loaded.


    Notice the entire bag of San Luis Sourdough bread. Tammera loves it!


    We were taking a route that would completely avoid Los Angeles (Mel and I don't do well in big city traffic) so we headed towards 46 East after Melissa finally tore herself away from Donny. We weren't even out of town yet when I said, "Where's my phone?" Melissa started looking all over the car. Somehow, in the crisis over the carpet shampoo, my phone had disappeared. Eventually, she took out her phone and called mine.

    Ring, ring, ring, ring.

    "Hello?"

    "Donny! What are you doing answering Mom's phone?"

    "Uh, ... I don't know. Uh, it was in my pocket."   ???

    We turned around, headed back to Idler's, picked up my phone, said goodbye to Donny again, and once more headed towards the highway. We were now about two hours behind schedule. Not that big a deal except that we were staying in a hotel that night in the Palm Springs area and we wanted to get there in time to have a nice dinner, maybe a drink, and then a soak in the hot tub. We wanted to take full advantage of our $100 room!

    We planned to drive to Barstow and then cut down through some area called Yucca Valley. This would avoid the whole L.A./Riverside locale and dump us in Palm Springs. I don't know if you have driven that way before but let me tell you, it's a whole lot of nothing. It was beastly hot, incredibly boring, ugly, barren, and completely unremarkable. We began to take pictures of the rest stops just so that we could "create some memories."


    And don't let that green fool you. Apparently, they water the rest stops. Just outside this picture were miles and miles of dirt and cactus.

    We were well prepared to entertain ourselves. We each had loaded hundreds of songs on our iPods and we also had a bountifully stocked "food sack." This consisted of several bags of chips, tons of candy, almonds, cookies, gum, and of course, water, because, you know, we wanted to be healthy. Occasionally, we would get carried away and sing along boisterously to the iPod and record ourselves at the same time. Then we would post the videos on Facebook because we thought we were hysterical. We discovered a weird trait that we shared. I did most of the driving that first day so Melissa was in charge of music. She liked to listen to just the first part of a song and then she tired of it and moved on to the next song. She said it drove Donny crazy when she did that. Funny thing is, I often do that too. I just didn't know that she did. So, we quite happily drove across the desert listening to an average of two songs a minute. Could that be an inherited gene? This brings us to "soul clapping." Melissa taught me how to soul clap during one song and I proceeded to apply it to almost every song after that. According to her, you only can soul clap to certain songs but I disagree. I thought it worked quite well for almost every song.

    We made it to hot, humid Barstow and then headed south through Yucca Valley. The scenery continued to deteriorate. There were actually people that lived in this wasteland. They had street names (and I use the term "street" loosely) like "Rose Eden Drive" and "Paradise Ave.", as if giving their little dirt path a pretty name would somehow improve their surroundings. I've always appreciated Paso Robles but this drive took that appreciation to a new level. You can drive for miles without any hands (unless you need an alignment) because the road is so straight! Unfortunately, there is apparently a lot of flash flooding in Yucca Valley during the monsoon season. We ended up being stopped for over an hour, in the sweltering heat, while the road was being cleared. The policeman said that cars had been washed away. It was hard to imagine since we were baking under the unrelenting sun.


    We finally got underway again and made it to our hotel which was somewhere near Palm Springs.



    We had wanted to eat dinner. The hotel had no restaurant or bar. That may have been an oversight on my part. There was road construction all around the hotel so we walked, looking for somewhere to eat. That was about the time that Melissa had the first of her many meltdowns. It was so hot and humid, we were so tired, it was just a bit much. We had arrived much later than anticipated and we were just done! We walked across the street and found nothing and eventually walked down a couple of blocks where we stumbled across a grocery store and bought sandwiches, beer, and a Mike's Hard Lemonade.


    The sun was setting by the time we were headed back to the hotel and when Melissa stubbed her toe on a piece of cement, she started to cry! I tried to console her, all the while laughing at her. In spite of the hardships, we were blessed by God's beauty.



    We hadn't planned on the heat and humidity so there was no way we were venturing down to the hot tub. Plus, this was a "family friendly" hotel and it was Labor Day weekend so there were screaming kids in the pool, which our room overlooked, until almost midnight. We were cheered up, though, once we cooled off in our air conditioned room and got some decent food in us. (We'd had nothing but chips and candy all day.) And so, Day 1 ended. We were a little worse for wear, and Melissa was insisting that she would never drive to Tucson again (she wanted to fly, instead), but we'd made it halfway and hadn't killed each other yet so I thought the day was a success!

    Stay tuned for Day 2!


Sunday, August 25, 2013

Waiting

I've been wrestling with God a bit and finally decided that it might benefit me to get my thoughts down on paper. I find that often this helps me clarify issues and, sometimes, actually allows me to hear what God has been trying to say to me. So...

I've been thinking about waiting. I remember being pregnant and the long wait for the much anticipated birth. That's a good kind of waiting. I was excited. I was anxious to meet my baby. But in the meantime, I had things to do and preparations to make. Those preparations added to the whole atmosphere of wonder and awe and gratefulness for how God was blessing me.

But what about when we are waiting for things that aren't so good? I have been so conscious lately of the difficulties in many lives. What about waiting for a job? You apply everywhere you can think of and still nothing comes through and the bills continue to pile up. Or maybe you already have a job but it's so miserable that you hate waking up to face it five days a week. And yet, God doesn't seem to give you a way out, at least not yet. Many, many years ago, Paul's mother was very ill with cancer. We had prayed for miracles, for physical healing, but God said, "No." His miracle was to take her home. Waiting for that miracle was agony. She got worse, she didn't know us, she suffered. We took to borrowing an empty hospital room so that we had a place to pray and we begged God to end it! We had accepted that she was not going to be healed in this earthly lifetime so we became anxious for her to wake up on heaven's side. We waited.

How do we understand God's timing? Can we understand God's timing? We can rejoice while we are waiting on God for things that we count as blessings but can we rejoice as we trudge inevitably towards tragedy? I have friends whose tiny daughter will have surgery this week. Each day brings them one day closer to the day they will turn her over to doctors who will cut into her little body. They rejoice in the fact that the outcome will, Lord willing, solve this little one's physical issues but they still have to watch her suffer, be fearful, and then go through the operation and recovery. Other times, we aren't assured of such a positive result. I remember a family member laboring to deliver a child that she already knew was no longer with her but was already held by God. She still had to suffer through labor with absolutely no promise or hope of a reward at the end. Life can be so incredibly painful!

How must Jesus have felt as each day brought him a step closer to the cross? I don't tend to think about that because I have this idea that His suffering was tempered by His all-knowing ability. After all, He was God, He knew what He would go through, but He also knew the end result and He understood why He was going to suffer. But even God in the flesh was subject to the terrible suffering that sin had caused. Just because He was Christ didn't mean that He was exempt. In fact, His suffering was unimaginable, at least to me. And yet, He willingly walked towards it and, for my sake, embraced it.

I often question the "why" of things. What is the purpose of a miscarriage? Couldn't a person just skip that? Is it really necessary for a couple to go through the sting of infertility? What about my failed marriage? I feel like I'm waiting, day after day, for...something. I have no idea for what. How is God using this in my life or in the lives of those around me? And couldn't He have accomplished His will some other way? Why are some marriages still intact but so empty and lonely? Must our little ones be bullied, teased, or left out? And why do some struggle with disabilities?

I am not sure that I will ever understand the point of the personal pains that have affected those I love. However, I do not doubt that God is in control. As a Christian, I know that I am commanded to submit to God. Part of submission is releasing to Him the "why" of things. It is a helpless feeling, waiting as calamity approaches and knowing that you cannot step out of its path. Such is the nature of our human existence, calm days and then tornadoes. Yet the Bible tells me that He knew me, formed me, chose me, and designed me for a purpose. Me! God has things for me to do that are only for me, a purpose beyond myself but a purpose uniquely mine. The same is true for each one of us. Do I trust the Lord? Can I trust Him with my pain? Or harder still, can I trust Him with my children and their suffering? The question isn't, "Can I?" The question is, "Will I?" And while I wait, will I glorify Him? I hope and pray so. Nothing else makes sense.

Proverbs 3:5-6


Trust in the Lord with all your heart
    and lean not on your own understanding;
in all your ways submit to Him,
    and He will direct your paths.


Ephesians 2:10



For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.



While I Am Waiting - John Waller      http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PHztEiKko0E




Sunday, August 11, 2013

My Trip

For the second year in a row, I flew to Maryland to visit my very good friend, Carole Sue. She and her husband, Norm, graciously had given me air miles so that I could get back there. Carole Sue and I have been friends for 40 years and this post is as much about enduring friendships as it is about what we did when we were together.

I left Paso Robles right after work on a Thursday and drove to Santa Barbara where I was spending the night with another dear friend, Marilyn. Marilyn and I hadn't seen each other in months and I was looking forward to getting caught up with her. It was an interesting start to my trip. Poor Marilyn was having septic tank issues and though a repairman had been to her house several days in a row, there was still no fix in sight. We couldn't flush! We joked about bonding and becoming even better friends over a shared toilet bowl. I offered to get us a hotel room but Marilyn said it was Fiesta in Santa Barbara. That meant there wouldn't be any lodging to be found. No worries. We sat and talked for hours and limited our liquid intake.

The next morning, I left Marilyn's and drove through my old neighborhood in Goleta to where the S.B. Airbus was located. What a great idea! I caught the Airbus to LAX. It was a pleasant, relaxing drive without the stress of navigating L.A. traffic and I was dropped off right at my Southwest terminal. I dozed off and on during the 5 1/2 hour flight. I had managed to only have a carry-on so I was on the curb very shortly after landing. Carole Sue was waiting in a cell phone lot so I texted her to "Come and Get It!!" The text I got back said, "It's the black car." Hmmm. Here is what I could see...


Fortunately, she could see me better than I could see her! I hadn't laid eyes on Carole Sue in over a year but as soon as we were together the months fell away. I've known her for so long. We grew as women together, raised children together, vacationed together. We've each seen our children married, celebrated the births of grandchildren, buried a parent. For most of those years, there were four of us. Her husband, Norm, and my (ex) husband were also the best of friends. It's actually a bit painful at times to be with Norm and Carole Sue. It is so obvious that someone is missing. However, long-standing friendships are precious and few and there is no way that I will ever allow a divorce to separate me from these fabulous cohorts.


After a full day of traveling, I had four days with the Mayfields. Carole Sue and I love to shop together so the first day after arriving, we joyfully set off for an adventure. We stopped first at a little quirky store that had lots of toys and souvenirs but they also had postcards. That's what I was looking for and Carole Sue waited patiently while I picked up a card for each grandchild. What kid doesn't love to get mail? On the way out of the store I headed confidently for "the black car." Unfortunately, it was not Carole Sue's black car and I startled the person who was sitting in the front seat. I sheepishly followed Carole Sue to the right car and then she, ever the diplomat, scooted back to explain and apologize to the other driver. Next we visited a consignment store. We happily poked around for several hours. Carole Sue had just had a birthday and I was hoping she would find something she loved so that I could buy it for her. Score!! I actually found her a really cute dress right before the store was closing and on my final pass through the racks. I had to talk her into it but I think she was glad later. She looked fabulous!!


The next day was Sunday and I surprised everyone (especially myself) by getting up and ready in time to make it to church by 9 a.m. It was a great service and I loved the worship. I've been in the pre-school department at my own church for months and while I could attend the early service, the fact is that I don't. It's been a sticking point for me. It was so nice to be somewhat anonymous and be able to soak it all in even though I was a bit foggy due to jet lag. We later enjoyed the beautiful day for a while out on the patio of the church.



Carole Sue spoils me (one of the few advantages of not seeing each other often) so she cooked awesome meals. After church, we ate out on their deck. The menu? Waffles from scratch, bacon, and fresh fruit. Delicious! In the evening we headed over to a little beach that is just for the use of their community. Did I mention that the weather was beautiful?



On Monday, Norm went to work and Carole Sue and I took off for a little tourist town called St. Michaels. It was about an hour away on the Eastern Shore. Do I sound like I know where I was? It reminded me a lot of Cambria and we had a great time looking in all the little shops. Just before we got to the town I spotted what I thought was an eagle. I was so excited! I made Carole Sue turn around and go back, pull over on the shoulder of the highway, and wait while I took a couple of pictures. It actually turned out to be an osprey but it was still cool.


On my last full day in Annapolis, Carole Sue and I went to another consignment shop called Honeysuckle. It is a really nice store and we had gone together there last year as well. It has become an annual tradition. We spent a contented three hours there. Funny thing - we found the exact same dress that I had bought Carole Sue but this one was in my size. I tried it on but unfortunately, while it looked great on Carole Sue, it was not right for me. We joked about how crazy it would have been to have matching dresses at our age.


After Honeysuckle, we made what we thought would be a quick stop at Sam's Club. Carole Sue wanted me to give her my opinion on some frames for new glasses. I'm afraid I just muddied the water and no frames were chosen. I waited in the book department while Carole Sue ran to grab grapes and a couple of other items and then we headed to the parking lot. We stood by Carole Sue's car, the black one, while she somewhat frantically searched for her cell phone. As she looked through her handful of purse, grapes, keys, glasses frames...Wait! What? We were shocked to find that Carole Sue had walked all through Sam's Club and clear out to her car with a hot pair of frames with no lenses. We hurriedly stuffed the purloined frames into her purse, ran back into the store, and furtively slipped them back onto the display. We then retraced her steps through the store looking for the lost phone only to eventually find it ... in her car... the black one. We laughed all the way home.

Too soon, it was time to leave. How did it go so fast? Come to think of it, when did we get this old? In a flash the hours waiting in the airport passed, the hours on the plane passed, the dash from one terminal to another dragging my dilapidated carry-on so I could catch my bus passed, the ride back to Santa Barbara, and then finally the drive home. A few days in Maryland over for another year but a 40-year friendship that will last forever.


Oh, and look what I found tucked into my suitcase after I left.


Somehow, after I had admired these earrings in St. Michaels, Carole Sue managed to buy them without my noticing and hid them for me to find later - another awesome memory.

Saturday, July 27, 2013

Compassion

Definition of Compassion:
          a sympathetic consciousness of others' distress together with a desire to alleviate it


I consider myself a compassionate person. Lately, however, I have been reflecting on what compassion truly entails. It occurs to me that sometimes, my compassion only reaches halfway. It is actually more of a judgement because it doesn't involve the "desire to alleviate" the other person's distress. Why is it that some people are ministered to more easily? Why can I be so empathetic with one and so harsh with another?

Emotions definitely play a part in my reactions to people. I feel what I believe to be genuine compassion for my ex. Some don't understand that. "Why? He made his own choices. He's where he thought he wanted to be. Don't waste compassion on him. He did it to himself." Those statements are true but still I think about him in a compassionate way. I spent too many years loving and caring for him. Maybe it's because I don't see how he can NOT be distressed. He thinks he's happy but I think he's just deluded. Now that could be my pride talking. As I've shared before, I do tend to wonder how he can possibly live without me. But honestly, even apart from me, how can he exist outside the comforts of family? How does he reconcile his current life with what he once experienced? How does he see his daughters or grandchildren so infrequently? He's in a pit of his own making but he's too deceived to realize it. At least, that's what I think. Who really knows? But that's why I feel compassion for him - because he doesn't seem to know any better. And I would like to alleviate his distress. Unfortunately, I have no position in his life anymore. Thankfully, I can leave his soul to God, pray for him, but can also understand that his pit is not mine to decorate or destroy.

On the other hand, I met a young woman recently and spent just brief moments with her. She was suffering some over a breakup with a boyfriend who happened to be an older married man. Did I feel any compassion for her? No! Perhaps it hit too close to home. My attitude towards her was, "What did you expect, you dumb shit?" And yet, she was in a pit of her own making, just like I envision my ex to be. She needs the Lord. She is deceived and deluded. She is distressed. One of my daughters challenged me on my attitude. She asked me why I could be so compassionate with some but not others. I had to stop and ponder that question. She had a valid point. Perhaps it is because I had no vested interest in this young woman. She is virtually a stranger to me. Does that make her less worthy? The bottom line is that God asks us to love and serve others. Many are not deemed "deserving" in our feeble minds. Good thing that God doesn't take that approach with me.

The Lord describes Himself as "compassionate" in many verses in the Bible. My desire should be to be more like Him. That means having compassion for my ex while maintaining a healthy boundary and it also means having concern for the young woman who so unwittingly placed herself in a sinful, bound-to-fail situation. People are suffering all around me. I am struck more by that fact every day. I pray that God teaches me to rejoice in the compassion He has given so freely to me so that I can then offer His compassion to whoever crosses my path.


Colossians 3:12

New International Version (NIV)
12 Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility,gentleness and patience.


Psalm 145:8

New International Version (NIV)

The Lord is gracious and compassionate,
    slow to anger and rich in love.

Thursday, July 11, 2013

My Evening

Getting to hear about my grandkids' drum lessons, ballet lessons, and breakdancing lessons.

Feeding my dad leftovers and being praised like he was eating at Artisan.

Watering my only two remaining tomato plants and enjoying the tropical weather.

Being visited by the sweet dog from across the road.

Watching a stunning sunset which included a rainbow that was all dark pink.

Mini Reese's Peanut Butter Cups.

Chatting with a friend.

Praying for someone else.

Walking out to the kitchen to discover the visiting dog had let himself in.

Thanks to my cats, one less mouse.

Spending some time planning my trip to Tucson to see sweet Tammera and family.

Reconnecting with an old friend.

Zoning out to Property Brothers.

Persevering, Surviving, Thriving.


Is life any less precious just because your spouse is MIA? No! What if your arms ache for a child but you're still waiting? Money problems, sleep deprivation, job stresses, loneliness, family dysfunction, outliving your partner, wayward children. The list of difficulties that we all live with is endless. Sometimes, our problems are due to our own sinful choices. Other times, it's just the imperfectness of this world and its impact on us. Either way, we end up struggling with moving forward victoriously.

I used to think that I had a lot of faith. But over the years life has thrown me a few curves. I realized that there are things that I don't even bother to pray for. They're big things, tough things. Too tough for God? Of course not! But I act like God is limited. Faith? I've barely scratched the surface.

But tonight, as I took the time to enjoy, appreciate, and be grateful for the small events of my evening, I was filled with hope. I've been down but I'm not out. And neither are my friends that have all kinds of issues to deal with.

II Cor. 4:8-9

We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed.


Sunday, June 9, 2013

The Good Girl

For as long as I can remember, I have worked hard to be "the good girl" - the good student, good daughter, good wife (look where that got me), the good mother, the good employee, good sister, good friend, the good Christian. I'm not saying it's wrong to try to be the best in all you do. I think God expects and deserves our best. But Satan inserts a little sinful twist. Very subtly, he encouraged me to think that my worth depended on what I did, not on who I was. I've spent years trying to achieve near perfection but always falling short, years of trying to make myself better but always being disappointed, years of wanting to feel good about myself but never being satisfied with my efforts. And through this process, I'd come to believe that I constantly disappointed God. I approached Him as if He were tired of hearing from me, tired of cleaning up my messes, tired of trying to teach me, tired of listening to me. It sounds terrible as I write this. Where is God's grace and forgiveness in all this? Where is my peace and contentment?

Satan is clever, though. It wasn't always all that obvious to me that my thinking was skewed. After all, Satan specializes in deception so he hid his strategy among righteous sounding goals and Christian "good girl" plans. As a result I find, in myself, an overwhelming desire to do the right thing. What could be wrong with that? It's my motives - I haven't been "good" because of my love for the Lord and because I desire to please Him. I've made it about me, not about God. It's as if I'm trying to save myself. (As a side note, I also tend to make it my business to try to save everyone else - fix them, tell them how they could be better, etc. Annoys the heck out of my girls.) I measure myself daily and tally up my failures. I'm still pondering all this but it occurs to me that I haven't truly embraced God's forgiveness and therefore I have allowed myself to miss out on some of the blessing that is already mine as a child of the King.

This skewed thinking has caused me to do some weird things. When I came home some years ago and found my husband being served dinner by his mistress, I didn't throw her out. It wouldn't have been "the Christian thing to do." My counselor asked me, "Debbie, where is your righteous indignation?" Indeed! So I did nothing. I've been unjustly accused of wrong-doing in a work situation, taken advantage of in my own home, I've put up and shut up. Yet, in other situations, I've barreled ahead, taken things into my own hands and tried to play God - and, needless to say, screwed things all up.

Now we are at the "concluding paragraph" and this is the time when you might expect to find the whisper of wisdom, the suggested solution, the tangible truth, the righteous revelation. (Had enough?) Unfortunately, I don't have that. I'm a work in progress. But, praise God, I'm thinking about this stuff and He is patiently walking me through it. For today, I'm focusing on several truths...

One, God is more than capable and more than willing to do ALL that He has promised me. (Romans 4:21)

Two, I can (and will) learn to be content in all things knowing that He has given me everything I need.
(II Peter 1:3, Phil. 4:11-13)

Three, I will pray for God to change my thinking so that the negativity that Satan wants me to dwell on has no place in my mind. (Phil. 4:8)

I am saved! I will spend eternity with Christ! God chose ME! How much more special can I get?

THANK YOU, JESUS!