I wrote the following blog about a year and a half ago but couldn't bring myself to post it. Too personal? Too painful? Too negative? I'm not sure. I decided to post it today because I want to remember - how I felt, what happened, etc. And I want to remember to pray.
I'm not a morning person at all but I do appreciate waking up leisurely and starting my day slowly and enjoying my coffee with the birds. Around my house, the birds make a tremendous racket very early in the morning - as if they are heralding the day - but then they quiet down quite a bit. The worst thing to me about mornings is the alarm clock. I have to set 4 separate alarms in order to ensure that I get up in time to get to work. Paul used to wake me every morning and bring me my cup of coffee in bed. Hmmm, anyway...I digress.
It was my day off and of course, I had looked forward to sleeping in. But in this warm weather, if I manage to get my cats in at night (which is not easy), they are ready earlier than I am to start their morning. On this particular day, I was awakened too early by Lei Lei scratching on the screen door in my bedroom and she wanted out! This cat will drive me crazy until she gets her way so I have learned that the best thing to do is just get it over with quickly. I rolled out of bed, let her out, and crawled back into bed in under 60 seconds. And, in also under 60 seconds, that dang cat was back at the door with a good sized bird in her mouth! Even though I know she is just acting on the instinct that God put in her, I was not happy. I closed the curtains so I didn't have to watch.
A few minutes later I peered out the window. There was the bird, dead on the bricks, and completely whole and untouched. Lei Lei caught her because her instinct is to hunt. But she is a fat and sassy spoiled domestic cat so she had no need to devour her catch for food. The bird died for nothing and was just left abandoned.
The following week was 4th of July and my brother came up and stayed for five days. I love my brother but he and I, as adults, have often struggled in our relationship. There are lots of issues but they aren't relevant right now. What is important to me about my brother is that he is fairly miserable, very lonely, and basically completely without hope. We have spent countless hours over the years discussing God, Christ, faith, salvation, etc. and still he clings to his excuses about why it all doesn't work for him. This trip was no different. We talked one night for several hours about this subject and it is impossible to describe the crazy circles we went in without really any mutual understanding or progress. I left him feeling like I had completely failed the Lord - even though I know in my head that it isn't me - it's the Holy Spirit that must work in his life. Still, God has entrusted me with the knowledge of Him and while I ache for everyone who doesn't have a saving faith in Christ, my family is at the top of my prayer list. I am heartbroken every time Tim goes back home, knowing that he is still searching, questioning, agonizing, and resisting.
As I watched him that night, pacing in an almost frantic way, feverishly trying to convince me that God has to work differently if He really loves us and that "religion" has done more damage than any other institution, I realized that he was further away from God than I thought. The Bible talks about Satan "taking away the Word" from someone and that Satan is a "liar and the father of lies" and that "there is no truth in him". (See Like 8:12 and John 8:44) Tim has bought into a lot of lies and Satan has brought chaos and confusion to his mind. I am convinced of it! Honestly, it was like spending hours in some sort of alternate reality. I Peter says that "Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour". I felt like Satan was circling Tim, waiting for just the right moment to go in for the kill. I'm not trying to sound overly dramatic. It was eerie to watch this person that I love be so agitated and really almost distraught.
For days since he left, I have pondered the whole experience. What could I have said or done differently? Why doesn't God move forcefully in Tim's life? How did he get to this place? How do I pray for him? The sad fact is that death is at his door. It hasn't been welcomed in yet but it is there, waiting. But I'm convinced that my brother is still alive because God is waiting also. I continue to pray for him and I hope that he will respond to the Lord before it is too late. Anybody who dies without Christ dies for nothing, just like the unfortunate bird. Satan doesn't care one iota for us. His joy is in the kill and then he abandons his catch. God loves us infinitely and offers us life forever with Him. But while I didn't want to watch Lei Lei dispatch the bird I cannot turn away from someone I love, no matter how painful it is to watch.
God's ways are mysterious and I have such a limited awareness of how He works. I don't have the answers to Tim's questions that he wants. But I KNOW that I am saved and I know that Christ has done all He needs to do for this world. I also know that as believers, we all have loved ones that are far away from the truth. I tend to over-spiritualize when I try to get my thoughts written down and I don't want to do that. But I carry a sadness inside me for these lost loved ones and I want God to remind me constantly to lift them up to Him. God is my all-in-all! I am so blessed! I want so much for my brother to know Him also.
So I will wait. And I will pray. And I will attempt to stand in the gap for him (Eze. 22:30) until such time as he can join me on faith's side.
Sunday, January 19, 2020
Saturday, January 11, 2020
Fear of the Unknown
I can't escape the pain, you know? Everywhere I look right now is pain. God tells me that He is Hope. It's hard to find hope sometimes. A friend ravaged by cancer, children and grandchildren moving away, marriages coming unglued, loneliness (both mine and other's), disabilities, physical pain, a loved one that rejects God. So much suffering and heartache. I try. I want to remain strong. I want to remain hopeful. I want to be able to give hope - to give The Hope.
But lately, I've given in. Not too long ago I stayed in bed, all day, never got dressed. And then I felt guilty so I got productive for a short time and then got back in bed. NCIS, The Blacklist, The Big Bang Theory, wine. They're not doing it for me. My go-to escapes aren't working.
I imagine that is because they aren't supposed to work. God doesn't want me to turn to anything but Him. And yet I keep trying. Why? We are studying the book of Exodus in Bible Study. I am quick to judge the Israelites when they bitched and moaned to Moses. God had just delivered them out of Egypt and horrible lives of slavery. They witnessed multiple amazing miracles and yet, very quickly, they turned away from God. Their trust didn't last more than about 6 weeks and then they wanted to go back to Egypt - back to certain slavery. The horror of the known was preferable to the fear of the unknown.
Is that me?
But lately, I've given in. Not too long ago I stayed in bed, all day, never got dressed. And then I felt guilty so I got productive for a short time and then got back in bed. NCIS, The Blacklist, The Big Bang Theory, wine. They're not doing it for me. My go-to escapes aren't working.
I imagine that is because they aren't supposed to work. God doesn't want me to turn to anything but Him. And yet I keep trying. Why? We are studying the book of Exodus in Bible Study. I am quick to judge the Israelites when they bitched and moaned to Moses. God had just delivered them out of Egypt and horrible lives of slavery. They witnessed multiple amazing miracles and yet, very quickly, they turned away from God. Their trust didn't last more than about 6 weeks and then they wanted to go back to Egypt - back to certain slavery. The horror of the known was preferable to the fear of the unknown.
Is that me?
Saturday, June 23, 2018
My Testimony
Like many, I was born and raised in a Christian home by two committed Christian parents. Like many, I accepted Christ as my Savior when I was fairly young, followed Him like a good girl for a while, and then slowly began to take Him for granted and do my own thing in my later teens. By the time I was 19 I had completely quit going to church, was dating a nice guy who was not a Christian, was drinking on the weekends, and pretty much making a mockery of my "faith". I remember having moments where I thought about all my friends who were unsaved and pondered the fact that I was doing absolutely nothing to point them towards Christ. But I was more interested in living life my way. I certainly wasn't the worst kid. I generally stayed out of trouble and I did well in school and was usually respectful to adults and kind to my peers. But I knew in my heart that I wasn't honoring God and I knew that God knew it too.
Ironically, it was Paul who was so instrumental in drawing me back to my roots. My boyfriend went into the Army and was shipped off and I found myself at loose ends. I had known Paul from church but as I said, I hadn't darkened that door in a very long time. We started dating and from the start I was attracted to what I saw as his intense passion and commitment to serving Christ. He was in a Christian band (the beginning of the "Jesus Movement" and contemporary worship) and he and his band mates were busy with their ministry. I realized that I had been longing for something more, even though I'd had no complaints before. I was drawn to Paul and from him to God and I excitedly began to embrace a life that was putting God before myself. Almost without a 2nd thought we got married, fought through our whole 1st year, began to settle in, started having children and before we knew it had 3 kids and a mortgage. We were heavily involved in a church and in ministry. I loved it. I felt I was where I belonged both in the Lord, in my marriage, and as a mom.
And then the bloom began to fade. Our marriage was suffering though I couldn't figure out why. Long story short, one night I found out that Paul had been fired from his very good job because his employer was aware of a cocaine habit that I knew nothing about. My world was shaken. What was I to do? I had 3 young children, I wasn't working at the time, and not only was my husband unemployed but he was an addict. It was a sleepless night. But God met me there, in my worry and my stress. By morning, I was able to reach out to Paul, reassure him that we'd get through this together, and began the enormous task of rebuilding our lives. The next year was difficult as we struggled financially and as Paul struggled with the aftermath of his actions. But through it all I had a faith that hadn't been there before and I knew that, no matter what, God was walking right beside me and I knew I could depend on Him.
Nine years later, Paul wanted to move us to Paso Robles. He was going to work for the same company that he was currently with but would run a small local store. It is a testament to the trust that we had rebuilt that I was actually able to follow him here. We quickly became immersed in life and ministry at 1st Baptist and served in a variety of ways. Two of our daughters met their husbands here in Paso and our oldest daughter (who had stayed behind) eventually left Santa Barbara and joined us. God added to our brood when we took in a 14 year old girl named Tammera who eventually became a daughter. Through her, God taught me about unconditional love and the idea of adoption into God's family became much clearer to me. Tammera is married now, has 3 children, and is living in Tucson, but she remains and always will be, my 4th daughter.
By 2010, Paul and I were shepherding a "Young Adult Group" that met for dinner and Bible Study at our house every week. I loved it and I loved ministering along side of Paul. He was also serving as Worship Pastor at 1st Baptist. Everyone was married and out of the house, we weren't quite as broke as usual, we had time together - I thought life was good. And then I found out that Paul was having an affair with one of the young women in our group and my life blew apart. Paul moved back to Santa Barbara and we weren't able to put anything back together. Only a few months after he left, my dad and I were forced to put my mom in a convalescent care home due to her advanced Parkinson's. Tough times - we all experience them and no matter how our details differ we all have the same choice: Trust God completely or try to go it alone. Once again, I found myself hanging on for dear life to the One who is absolute truth. I was far from perfect but God was patient and gracious. There were countless sleepless, tear-filled nights but the morning always brought God's incredible peace.
I don't really know what God has planned for the rest of my life so I keep trying to just concentrate on taking the "next right step". Recently, God has shown me how utterly unworthy I am of His grace. I don't think I've ever really understood the verse in Isaiah that says,
All of us have become like one who is unclean,
and all our righteous acts are like filthy rags;
we all shrivel up like a leaf,
and like the wind our sins sweep us away.
I have been fairly content with my degree of righteousness. It's also been tempting at times to compare myself to Paul and feel O.K. about myself. But I am learning the depths of my sin and the greatness of God's love and forgiveness. I must not let my failed marriage define my life. I cannot rest on my "own righteousness" just because I didn't commit adultery. My righteousness has no more merit than the rag I use to clean my toilet. I am plenty capable of massive amounts of sin and I need Jesus just as much as anyone else. More and more I am amazed at what He puts up with from me and I am so grateful for His forgiveness. And because of His forgiveness I am able to forgive Paul and many others who have hurt me through the years. Actually, I am more than able. I am commanded to forgive, obligated, in fact. If I can't forgive someone who is no more imperfect than me, how can I accept forgiveness from a perfect God?
My life certainly hasn't turned out the way I anticipated. I never expected to be single, to lose ministry I loved, to watch my mom die slowly and cruelly and to spend years now in a "waiting room" of sorts. I'm a slow learner but God is an infinitely tolerant and long-suffering teacher. He won't be done with me until the day I die.
Ironically, it was Paul who was so instrumental in drawing me back to my roots. My boyfriend went into the Army and was shipped off and I found myself at loose ends. I had known Paul from church but as I said, I hadn't darkened that door in a very long time. We started dating and from the start I was attracted to what I saw as his intense passion and commitment to serving Christ. He was in a Christian band (the beginning of the "Jesus Movement" and contemporary worship) and he and his band mates were busy with their ministry. I realized that I had been longing for something more, even though I'd had no complaints before. I was drawn to Paul and from him to God and I excitedly began to embrace a life that was putting God before myself. Almost without a 2nd thought we got married, fought through our whole 1st year, began to settle in, started having children and before we knew it had 3 kids and a mortgage. We were heavily involved in a church and in ministry. I loved it. I felt I was where I belonged both in the Lord, in my marriage, and as a mom.
And then the bloom began to fade. Our marriage was suffering though I couldn't figure out why. Long story short, one night I found out that Paul had been fired from his very good job because his employer was aware of a cocaine habit that I knew nothing about. My world was shaken. What was I to do? I had 3 young children, I wasn't working at the time, and not only was my husband unemployed but he was an addict. It was a sleepless night. But God met me there, in my worry and my stress. By morning, I was able to reach out to Paul, reassure him that we'd get through this together, and began the enormous task of rebuilding our lives. The next year was difficult as we struggled financially and as Paul struggled with the aftermath of his actions. But through it all I had a faith that hadn't been there before and I knew that, no matter what, God was walking right beside me and I knew I could depend on Him.
Nine years later, Paul wanted to move us to Paso Robles. He was going to work for the same company that he was currently with but would run a small local store. It is a testament to the trust that we had rebuilt that I was actually able to follow him here. We quickly became immersed in life and ministry at 1st Baptist and served in a variety of ways. Two of our daughters met their husbands here in Paso and our oldest daughter (who had stayed behind) eventually left Santa Barbara and joined us. God added to our brood when we took in a 14 year old girl named Tammera who eventually became a daughter. Through her, God taught me about unconditional love and the idea of adoption into God's family became much clearer to me. Tammera is married now, has 3 children, and is living in Tucson, but she remains and always will be, my 4th daughter.
By 2010, Paul and I were shepherding a "Young Adult Group" that met for dinner and Bible Study at our house every week. I loved it and I loved ministering along side of Paul. He was also serving as Worship Pastor at 1st Baptist. Everyone was married and out of the house, we weren't quite as broke as usual, we had time together - I thought life was good. And then I found out that Paul was having an affair with one of the young women in our group and my life blew apart. Paul moved back to Santa Barbara and we weren't able to put anything back together. Only a few months after he left, my dad and I were forced to put my mom in a convalescent care home due to her advanced Parkinson's. Tough times - we all experience them and no matter how our details differ we all have the same choice: Trust God completely or try to go it alone. Once again, I found myself hanging on for dear life to the One who is absolute truth. I was far from perfect but God was patient and gracious. There were countless sleepless, tear-filled nights but the morning always brought God's incredible peace.
I don't really know what God has planned for the rest of my life so I keep trying to just concentrate on taking the "next right step". Recently, God has shown me how utterly unworthy I am of His grace. I don't think I've ever really understood the verse in Isaiah that says,
All of us have become like one who is unclean,
and all our righteous acts are like filthy rags;
we all shrivel up like a leaf,
and like the wind our sins sweep us away.
I have been fairly content with my degree of righteousness. It's also been tempting at times to compare myself to Paul and feel O.K. about myself. But I am learning the depths of my sin and the greatness of God's love and forgiveness. I must not let my failed marriage define my life. I cannot rest on my "own righteousness" just because I didn't commit adultery. My righteousness has no more merit than the rag I use to clean my toilet. I am plenty capable of massive amounts of sin and I need Jesus just as much as anyone else. More and more I am amazed at what He puts up with from me and I am so grateful for His forgiveness. And because of His forgiveness I am able to forgive Paul and many others who have hurt me through the years. Actually, I am more than able. I am commanded to forgive, obligated, in fact. If I can't forgive someone who is no more imperfect than me, how can I accept forgiveness from a perfect God?
My life certainly hasn't turned out the way I anticipated. I never expected to be single, to lose ministry I loved, to watch my mom die slowly and cruelly and to spend years now in a "waiting room" of sorts. I'm a slow learner but God is an infinitely tolerant and long-suffering teacher. He won't be done with me until the day I die.
Saturday, September 10, 2016
"I Am What I Am"
It has been ages since I've written anything and to be honest, I've missed it. But I've struggled and I've been totally uninspired and I've been busy and I've been distracted and ...
Excuses! Sure, there's been a lot going on. But it has been more than that. My daughter, Melissa, and I were talking the other day and she said something that struck a chord with me. She mentioned the lies that Satan can get us to believe and that one of those lies is that we are losers. Convinced that we are unworthy of love or respect, we (translation "I") then begin to live with the attitude that we are constant failures and that we continually disappoint God.
My struggles this year have covered almost every aspect of my life: financial, relational, kids, grandkids, aging, the health of loved ones, lack of discipline, and many others. While I have enjoyed many blessed times with family and friends and have also seen God's hand in so many situations, I realize that I have chosen to focus more on whatever current burden or problem is at the forefront of my mind. O.K. Maybe that's not so bad. But...How do I respond? I stupidly push God away. It's subtle but true. I stop talking to Him. I stop sharing with Him. I hang on to my worries and I stubbornly plod through my days filled with fatigue and discouragement.
I've had periods of time like this before but this time, it has gone on much longer. Satan's whispers have been unrelenting! I find that I have lost the grasp of grace. In I Corinthians 15:10, Paul says, "But by the grace of God I am what I am..." This statement follows his confession about persecuting "the church of God." I can list all my sins and shortcomings and it won't matter because "BUT by the grace of God, I am what I am."
Eternally loved by God, I was chosen by Him before time began. There really is nothing permanent in our lives except for the love of our Savior. I know this in my head yet I keep my eyes downcast, looking only at the trivial daily occurrences of my life and stressing about whatever instead of enjoying the fact that I AM LOVED! I really have difficulty accepting this. I am a list maker, a "get the job done" kind of person, a committed daughter, mother, grandmother, and employee. I step up, I keep up, and I lift up. And then one day, I gave up.
I have been a Christian for a very long time and yet the secret of God's grace so often eludes me. I would understand it better if I had a daily list of what God expected from me. It might look like this:
Pray twice daily for at least 10 minutes
Read the Bible
Eat healthy
Exercise
Watch only 1 hour of T.V. per day
Work hard and be productive
Help out at least 1 person each day
You get the idea. Then I would have a measuring stick. I could just check things off my list each day and that's how I could judge how "acceptable" I was. But anybody can do something like that and they don't have to put any heart into it at all. So why is it so hard to imagine God being pleased with me, just because of who I am, and more importantly, because of who He is? And if I want a list all I need to do is get busy and study the Bible more. His word will tell me very clearly how to measure up.
Rambling thoughts today but that's just a bit of what has been rattling around in my head. I am tired of moping around like I have been. Do I have stuff to be stressed about? Absolutely. My circumstances haven't changed. But God tells me not to worry. He's in charge. I think that Satan uses the worry to convince me that I am failing. The heaviness that I carry around is not mine to carry. I say that I hate that feeling but if I hate it so much, why do I hang onto it so obsessively?
I'd like to say that I'm going to turn over a new leaf but I don't have that sort of confidence today. However, recognizing that my approach has been utterly sinful and also writing down how I have been behaving will hopefully start me down a better path. It's frustrating because I know better but I still am weak. Maybe that's what most sin is about - doing things we know not to do and doing them for no good reason! I am praying that God will help me regain my footing and enable me to walk knowing that His hand of grace is tightly holding on to me.
Friday, February 5, 2016
Quinten Lee
For some reason, I woke up this morning thinking about my little grandson, Quinten. It may have been because Donny and Melissa have been on my mind lately. Finances in our extended family seem to be a constant issue and we are all attempting to manage in different ways. Currently, both the Stivers and myself have ads on Craig's List for rooms to rent in our homes. I've been renting out a room for years but this will be new territory for Donny and Melissa. Anyway, perhaps that got me to thinking about their whole situation.
I began to remember the years before Quinten. I've written a few other times about adoption, etc. but left Quinten's story for Melissa to write herself. This morning, my heart is so full with gratitude for his very existence that I want to record my thoughts so that I can look back on them later. The funny thing is, just as I was beginning to write about Quinten, I got the following text from Melissa. It made me laugh.
"Q has been in back to back to back timeouts for almost an hour. Looking forward to nap time."
As every mother knows, when your child suffers, you suffer. And it doesn't matter if they are 5 or 45. We hurt for them and with them. In fact, I think for me, it is harder to watch my grown children struggle or suffer because I can't just put a Band-Aid on it and rock them a little while. Everything is so much more complicated. While I want them all to grow in the Lord, the process is sometimes hard to watch because for all of us, spiritual growth most often comes through life's trials.
My oldest grandchild, my handsome, smart, funny Gabriel, will be 13 years old in April. Melissa had known since her teen years that she would probably not be able to conceive. We didn't stress about it then and didn't worry too much when she and Donny were first married. But then a few years passed. Gabriel was born. Over the next several years, Melissa watched her sister, Jenny, have 4 kids, and her sister, Tammera, have 3. I was the proud Grammy to 8 grandkids and I rejoiced over each one of them. But the ache in my heart grew for Melissa. She so longed for a child. And though she took her role as "favorite aunt" very seriously, that wasn't going to satisfy her forever. Donny is a quiet guy and doesn't express his feelings much but I know he was hurting too. He is great with kids - patient as he teaches them how to do something but just as likely to be down on the floor with them as if he were still a kid himself.
They began exploring adoption and it seemed a formidable task. They worked hard! They paid off debt, bought a house, took classes, worked on the house, wrote about themselves for the adoption agency, waited, worked on the house some more, and waited some more. Each time their "profile" was shown to a prospective birth mother, they were notified. We would hold our breath. Would this be the one? More time passed and more tears were shed. But they hung in there.
I will never forget the day Melissa came bursting through the office door where I work. My boss and I were sitting side by side at the front desk. Melissa could not contain herself! With tears in her eyes she practically shouted to me, "The Stiver baby will be born sometime shortly after mid-April!" They had been matched with a birth mom and the due date was right around the corner. The angels were dancing with us as Melissa and I hugged each other and my boss congratulated her. It was early February, just 2 years ago.
Fast forward to today. Sitting on timeout is the culmination of Donny and Melissa's greatest earthly longing. I say earthly longing because they both love the Lord. They know Christ and He is definitely first in their lives. But short of heaven, Quinten Lee is it! He is the tangible manifestation of God's gracious love and abundant blessing to our family. I'll be honest. Right now, things are tough for us as a group. There's a lot of stuff going on in different people's lives and it's hard. We aren't unique in that. My heart breaks for some of the difficulties that friends in the church are going through too. And then I look at Quinten and I am reassured once again that God knows. He knows me! He knows my kids! He loves us unconditionally! It is almost too much to grasp.
I don't know the plans that God has for me or mine. I wish I did. I don't like surprises and I don't like to not be in control. This I do know: GOD IS GOOD! GOD IS ALL-KNOWING! GOD IS LOVE! GOD IS EVER-PRESENT! Whatever happens, I am praying that, as a family, we continue to trust in the God who has saved us. Even Paul, in his letter to the Philippians, said that he hoped and expected that he would not be ashamed and would have sufficient courage. If Paul "hoped" he would be courageous enough to "exalt" Christ, who am I kidding? Most times, I am just hoping to get through one day without a major spiritual blunder. I do not need to be ashamed of my frailty as a Christian. I need to recognize that I can do nothing without Christ so I might as well relax and enjoy the ride. I don't do well relaxing. I don't do well with not worrying. I need to get over that. As Paul said, I need to "expect". My hope is in the Lord. My children are in His hands.
Today, Quinten reminds me that God will work it all out. It won't always be so glorious. Sometimes it will be (and has been) really, really tough. But Quinten's beautiful smile came after years and years of heartache. I wouldn't trade it for anything! I know that I should know all this. I've been a Christian for many years. Today though, I needed a reminder. And so God woke me up with thoughts of a beautiful little boy that calls me "mom-mom" because he can't say "Grammy" yet.
Sunday, January 31, 2016
An Anniversary of Sorts
Exactly 6 years ago today, on another Sunday, my world as I knew it quietly imploded.
im·plode
(ĭm-plōd′)I did not see it coming but it was certainly a "catastrophic failure". My marriage of 37 years would never be the same again. The landscape of my life and the way I pictured it was forever changed. Now, on the anniversary of the disaster, I find myself reflecting back on where I have been and where I find myself now.
I'm grateful that this many years have passed. I feel like I have finally reached a point of pretty steady contentment and I'm glad to no longer be in the early, painful, emotional days. Can I say positive things about my situation? Of course, although I would never say that the break-up of my marriage was positive in and of itself. My personal belief is that the death of any marriage is tragic, simply because it goes against God's design and intentions. That said, some relationships fail and cannot be resurrected. I hesitate to even admit this as a Christian, but some relationships should not be revived.
I still get anxious and stressed sometimes but usually, I am anxious about the stresses in other people's lives, particularly my children. Strangely, I haven't mastered leaving them in God's hands. I seem to be able to be patient and trusting as I work through my own trials but can't yet manage to apply that trust in God to their lives. I'm working on it but as a somewhat "controlling", "fix-it now" type mom, I'm a bit like a paint-by-number in progress.
So, what is it that I have observed over the last six years?
First of all, I discovered that I could survive - but only by God's strength and grace. I learned what God really meant when He said, "the two shall become one", because I felt it keenly when that "one" was divided. When my mom died, I realized that all the rest of "life" didn't get put on hold just because I wasn't done grieving my marriage and that it was possible to taste "grief upon grief". I slowly became more flexible as I chose to rent out part of my house to different people so that I could stay on the property I loved and, more importantly, allow my dad to stay in his home on the same land. I practiced finding joy without being able to share it with a partner. And as I felt "singled out" or like an "oddball", God showed me that I was most definitely not alone and that my situation was certainly not unique. Oh, and how God showed me His faithfulness - even though my circumstances didn't change, or, they changed too dramatically to suit me.
There is much I miss about marriage and just because God has enabled me to be content in these circumstances doesn't mean that I am unaware of what I am missing. Is God sufficient? Absolutely! Do I rejoice in my singleness? Umm...Not exactly. Do I think God will use my experiences in the lives of others? I really don't know. But I do know that He is using them in my own life. I am constantly reassured that God is very present and has not, nor will He ever, abandon me. I imagine, though, that I am like the tortoise. I am a plodder. I keep soldiering on, step by step, day by day, but it is slow going. I sort of wish that I could be like some people who have the sudden revelation and immediately grasp what God has for them and then rejoice and celebrate in it. That isn't me; at least not at this stage of my life.
I'm not as hard on myself, though, as I used to be. I know I could do better and I know I still disappoint and neglect the Lord. I also recognize that I used to be motivated by lists and activities and actions that didn't always have my heart behind them. Because that was what motivated me, I had a sub-conscience tendency to feel that I was "earning" God's good pleasure. It has only been recently that I have really been able to embrace the idea that no matter what I do, God will NEVER love me less than He already does. Maybe that is what God is burning on my soul during these days.
"I love you Lord, I worship you,
Hope which was lost, now stands renewed.
I give my life to honor this;
The love of Christ, the Saviour King!
Saviour King
Saturday, November 21, 2015
Yet Another Snake!!
So I had another snake in the house! I've lived out here in the country for 20 years but a snake in my house is something I will never get used to. I was walking down the little hallway by my kitchen and there it was. Here's the thing about snakes - they are fast! And if they disappear into an area where there is a lot of stuff, i.e. closet, pantry, etc. you just have to sell your house and move. You'll never find the darn thing. What to do?
The first step is to begin hyperventilating. This provides more oxygen to the brain so that in your panic you can still think clearly. (Actually, it causes dizziness and possible fainting but whatever!) I was hyperventilating and panicking with the best of them but I was home alone and I knew I had to rise to the occasion. I backed up into the dining room, ran out my sliding door to the patio and around to the garage. This allowed me to open the door leading from my kitchen area to the garage. Back into the house I ran. I grabbed my broom and gingerly approached the snake. It was a young one, maybe only 18 inches long. Its markings looked very similar to a rattlesnake but I couldn't be sure. I very carefully began to sweep the monster towards the outer door. It had the nerve to get angry! And not just a little. It was flipping around, hissing, trying to coil and strike, and twisting every which way. All the while, I was screaming bloody murder as I kept trying to sweep it away from occupied territory and out into the garage. I got it to the door where it got stopped by the threshold but I finally managed to flip it over the edge and slam the screen door. Now it sat, coiled up and hissing on the mat just on the other side. I tried to talk myself down while I considered what to do next. I did not want it loose in my garage. Of course, my only available bucket was clear at the other end of the house in my shower and was filled with water. I ran down the hallway, grabbed the bucket, headed to the front door, dashed outside and dumped the water and then ran back inside the house. I was still hyperventilating and though I was no longer screaming, I was making noises that only the Holy Spirit could interpret. Back to the garage door I scurried.
The snake was gone! This was a new crisis! My garage is so full of stuff! In a split second, I envisioned this aggressive little snake living in luxury in my garage, growing to mammoth proportions, while it fed on the mice and lizards that are native to the garage environment. I was too nervous to walk right out that door so instead, I again ran around to the dining room, out the slider, and entered the garage from the other end. Now I wasn't just hyperventilating. I was truly gasping for breath. I am, after all, an out of shape 63 year old woman, and all this excitement and exertion was wearing me out. I cautiously approached the mat where the intruder had last been seen. It was at this point that I finally began to pray but all I could utter was "Please, God. Please, God". I looked to my left but saw nothing. To my right was the chest freezer. I carefully looked behind it and still saw nothing. I stepped a little more to the right and bam! There it was. Now what to do? I still had my trusty bucket and my broom so I placed the bucket on its side on the ground in front of the snake. I then began to try to sweep the snake into the bucket. This required more hissing and twisting on the snake's part and more screaming from me but I persevered and only by God's grace, got the thing into the bucket. I carried it outside, put the bucket on the driveway, and then put an old cat litter box on top of the bucket. No way that sucker was getting away from me again.
I called my fabulous 89 year old father (he and I have dealt with snakes before) and he came up immediately. He used to backpack and camp and hike and is really good at all that outdoor stuff. Even he, however, was uncertain if this was a rattler. The babies don't have rattles yet and though this one was certainly not a newborn, it wasn't that big and it was hard to get a good look. Every time we peeked into the bucket, it was coiled and striking the side and we were just a tad bit nervous. We decided that we had better err on the side of caution and dispatch the thing in case it was poisonous. Don't get me wrong, I hate to kill things. But I was defending my home, my refuge, my sanctuary. Long story longer, my dad and I did what needed to be done. (I'll be honest here, though. My dad supplied the plan, the courage, and the execution. I was simply the assistant.)
I'll admit. I was shaken. I had been walking around outside one evening, just a few nights before this. I was thinking how nice it was that we had made it through snake season without an incident. Now that thought was shattered. And worse, the snake incident was inside my border, not outside. Now, I was looking in every corner. Now I was wondering if there were more. Now I was uncomfortable in my own space. I was on guard and I was definitely not relaxed. And how did it get in? What was the point of entry? It was irrational really. A snake in the house is a very rare occurrence. There was absolutely no reason to think that I had been invaded by an army of snakes. Nevertheless, it was unnerving and unsettling. I was immediately grateful that God had shown me the snake. What if I hadn't seen it? I was also grateful that He gave me the ability to get it out of the house, even though I didn't do it with any beauty or finesse. And I was so grateful that it happened at a time when my dad was home. But...I would have been more grateful if God had never allowed it at all!
If you know me at all, you know that I tend to look for spiritual lessons everywhere, especially in my trivial, everyday happenings. I woke up this morning thinking about that little snake and what God could teach me. It was such a perfect analogy. After all, in the Bible, the snake represents sin. In the same way that God allowed me to see that snake in my hallway, He reveals sin in my own heart to me. If I am paying attention, I get it. I see it. But I do need to be paying attention. In fact, I need to constantly be asking God to show me my sin and my faults. That way, I can deal with the sin in obedience. And then I need to be on guard. I'll never know how that snake got in my house but I try to do everything I can to make my house "snake-proof". I don't always know how sin slips into my life. It is so subtle. I need to be "sin-proofing" my heart. I need to stay in the Word and be obedient to God so that sin can't find that point of entry. But when it does (which it will), I need to chase it outside with a vengeance, maybe even screaming all the way. And then I need to check myself and make sure that there is nothing else that needs to be shown the door. I'm working on it!
The first step is to begin hyperventilating. This provides more oxygen to the brain so that in your panic you can still think clearly. (Actually, it causes dizziness and possible fainting but whatever!) I was hyperventilating and panicking with the best of them but I was home alone and I knew I had to rise to the occasion. I backed up into the dining room, ran out my sliding door to the patio and around to the garage. This allowed me to open the door leading from my kitchen area to the garage. Back into the house I ran. I grabbed my broom and gingerly approached the snake. It was a young one, maybe only 18 inches long. Its markings looked very similar to a rattlesnake but I couldn't be sure. I very carefully began to sweep the monster towards the outer door. It had the nerve to get angry! And not just a little. It was flipping around, hissing, trying to coil and strike, and twisting every which way. All the while, I was screaming bloody murder as I kept trying to sweep it away from occupied territory and out into the garage. I got it to the door where it got stopped by the threshold but I finally managed to flip it over the edge and slam the screen door. Now it sat, coiled up and hissing on the mat just on the other side. I tried to talk myself down while I considered what to do next. I did not want it loose in my garage. Of course, my only available bucket was clear at the other end of the house in my shower and was filled with water. I ran down the hallway, grabbed the bucket, headed to the front door, dashed outside and dumped the water and then ran back inside the house. I was still hyperventilating and though I was no longer screaming, I was making noises that only the Holy Spirit could interpret. Back to the garage door I scurried.
The snake was gone! This was a new crisis! My garage is so full of stuff! In a split second, I envisioned this aggressive little snake living in luxury in my garage, growing to mammoth proportions, while it fed on the mice and lizards that are native to the garage environment. I was too nervous to walk right out that door so instead, I again ran around to the dining room, out the slider, and entered the garage from the other end. Now I wasn't just hyperventilating. I was truly gasping for breath. I am, after all, an out of shape 63 year old woman, and all this excitement and exertion was wearing me out. I cautiously approached the mat where the intruder had last been seen. It was at this point that I finally began to pray but all I could utter was "Please, God. Please, God". I looked to my left but saw nothing. To my right was the chest freezer. I carefully looked behind it and still saw nothing. I stepped a little more to the right and bam! There it was. Now what to do? I still had my trusty bucket and my broom so I placed the bucket on its side on the ground in front of the snake. I then began to try to sweep the snake into the bucket. This required more hissing and twisting on the snake's part and more screaming from me but I persevered and only by God's grace, got the thing into the bucket. I carried it outside, put the bucket on the driveway, and then put an old cat litter box on top of the bucket. No way that sucker was getting away from me again.
I called my fabulous 89 year old father (he and I have dealt with snakes before) and he came up immediately. He used to backpack and camp and hike and is really good at all that outdoor stuff. Even he, however, was uncertain if this was a rattler. The babies don't have rattles yet and though this one was certainly not a newborn, it wasn't that big and it was hard to get a good look. Every time we peeked into the bucket, it was coiled and striking the side and we were just a tad bit nervous. We decided that we had better err on the side of caution and dispatch the thing in case it was poisonous. Don't get me wrong, I hate to kill things. But I was defending my home, my refuge, my sanctuary. Long story longer, my dad and I did what needed to be done. (I'll be honest here, though. My dad supplied the plan, the courage, and the execution. I was simply the assistant.)
I'll admit. I was shaken. I had been walking around outside one evening, just a few nights before this. I was thinking how nice it was that we had made it through snake season without an incident. Now that thought was shattered. And worse, the snake incident was inside my border, not outside. Now, I was looking in every corner. Now I was wondering if there were more. Now I was uncomfortable in my own space. I was on guard and I was definitely not relaxed. And how did it get in? What was the point of entry? It was irrational really. A snake in the house is a very rare occurrence. There was absolutely no reason to think that I had been invaded by an army of snakes. Nevertheless, it was unnerving and unsettling. I was immediately grateful that God had shown me the snake. What if I hadn't seen it? I was also grateful that He gave me the ability to get it out of the house, even though I didn't do it with any beauty or finesse. And I was so grateful that it happened at a time when my dad was home. But...I would have been more grateful if God had never allowed it at all!
If you know me at all, you know that I tend to look for spiritual lessons everywhere, especially in my trivial, everyday happenings. I woke up this morning thinking about that little snake and what God could teach me. It was such a perfect analogy. After all, in the Bible, the snake represents sin. In the same way that God allowed me to see that snake in my hallway, He reveals sin in my own heart to me. If I am paying attention, I get it. I see it. But I do need to be paying attention. In fact, I need to constantly be asking God to show me my sin and my faults. That way, I can deal with the sin in obedience. And then I need to be on guard. I'll never know how that snake got in my house but I try to do everything I can to make my house "snake-proof". I don't always know how sin slips into my life. It is so subtle. I need to be "sin-proofing" my heart. I need to stay in the Word and be obedient to God so that sin can't find that point of entry. But when it does (which it will), I need to chase it outside with a vengeance, maybe even screaming all the way. And then I need to check myself and make sure that there is nothing else that needs to be shown the door. I'm working on it!
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