You will stand again!

2 Samuel 22:34

He makes me as surefooted as a deer, enabling me to stand on mountain 

heights. 

As I sat with tears streaming down my face, staring at my flooded basement, the memories of things and places washed over me.  As I looked around, all I could do was stare in disbelief.  Where do I even begin?   This mammoth cleanup was the last straw.  I sat in the middle of the mess and just sobbed.   

It was on the same day, a dear friendship I had been in had ended in a terrible way.  It had left me reeling, filled with deep sadness and hurt.  I was completely broken and undone.  The faucet of tears wouldn't stop.

As I stood in ankle deep water of pain and loss, God showed himself to me.   He reminded me of a passage of scripture in Habakkuk 3.  Its not often I find myself opening the bible to Habakkuk.  But the old testament prophets prayer was exactly what I needed to hear in that moment.  

It was years earlier, a dear friend shared this passage with me.  "Though the fig tree does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines, though the olive crop fails and the fields produce no food, though there are no sheep in the pen and no cattle in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will be joyful in God my Savior.  He makes my feet like the feet of a deer,  He enables me to tread on the heights."

As I sat in silence, those words began to take root in my heart.  Somehow in the midst of the water soaked pieces of my life and this broken relationship I could still rejoice.  I could find joy in a flooded basement.   

He led me back to all the beautiful ways He had met me during the building of our relationship.  She was without a place to live and struggled to make sense out of her life.  I kept seeing Gods grace and direction through the months of my sharing with her how God meets us right where we are.  In the midst of our pain. 

My own words were now exactly what I needed as I sat in this puddle of grief. 

God was gracious to me in that wet and soggy basement.  He said "I'm refining you."  He took my act of obedience and was making my feet like a surefooted deer, as he called me to keep climbing. The terrain was rocky but he was strengthening me.  He would help me stand again on new mountain heights. 

Was this really how God was ending this friendship? Where was the pretty box tied with the bow. There was nothing tidy about this.  But He was showing me the path to rejoice.  My family and friends offered me love and encouraged me to keep climbing.  

As we offer God our basement experience He passes it through the waters of His grace and love.  We can believe that He will make us surefooted again.  Standing on the heights!  That's what I'm going to do!  

Just show up!

It was a cool November morning, I was in the delivery room when I went flat lined.   I have no memory of the next moments but my husband reminds me.

The little anesthesiologist gave my husband a forearm shiver to the chest, to get to me.  She got my heart beating again.

Our baby boy was born by c-section a few minutes later.   As I knew nothing about what had happened, I sat in a daze staring at our beautiful baby.  Our quiver was now full, actually it was over flowing.   He was our caboose.   #4. 4 and no more was our new motto.    

But I woke up the next morning to sharp horrendous pains.   I could hardly move and wondered if I would live to see another day let alone raise my now full quiver.  

Nurses were beginning to hover.  I had no idea what was wrong.   But the terrible pain took over and I knew I was in deep trouble.   The feeling of utter helplessness completely consumed me. 

As I think back to that time,  I was almost absent from my body.  My body was reacting to something but I had no idea what.  

The following day was Thanksgiving day and the pain only continued to get worse.   My doctor called in a specialist.  In between rounds, the gastroenterologist swooped into my room wearing his beautiful festive sweater.  He was obviously dressed for a thanksgiving feast.  He checked my vitals and the look on his face said it all.  Fear over took me.  

With a grim look, he said "this is one sick patient."   He yelled "we are taking her into surgery now!"  He took off his ready-for-thanksgiving-dinner sweater.  Off we went into emergency surgery.  

That was 25 years ago.

When I woke from surgery I was groggy and frightened.  I found tubes coming out of me in every unlikely place.  

As the darkness fell around me that evening, my spirit was depleted.  I was sick and scared and in great pain.  The blackness of my heart consumed my thoughts.  As I laid in the eerie silence of my hospital bed,  I wondered if I was going to live or die. 

While the night lingered on, fear surrounded me and the echo of my own heartbeat was almost more than I could take.  Tears began to flow down my cheeks.  

A night nurse peeked in my room.  She noticed I was still awake.  She came in and sat down next to my bed in the dimly lit room.  

I remember she had a gruff exterior but she spoke love and truth.  Her wise demeanor spoke grace.  We talked about life, babies, children and God.  My memory of her exact words has faded.  But the words she spoke began to stitch me back together.  I believe it was more about her presence than anything.  She just showed up.  

God knew what I needed in that moment.  I see it was His presence that sustained me through those incredible dark nights. 

That room became for me a sanctuary of grace as I sat in fear and wonder about my future.   Hope began to seep into the crevice of the night. 

He sent an angel in a night nurse to show up for me.  

It's taken me 25 years to put these words down.  I've reflected on the story but somehow never understood its meaning. I realize now maybe it's about showing up.  That's it. 

It was 9 days of intense pain and struggle to get well.  But God blessed me with healing and new life.  He took a dark night of the soul and refreshed it with His presence in an uncommon way. 

Gods reminder to me is that His dwelling place is in us.  No matter how sick or broken we may feel, that's where He resides.  In me.  In us.  In a kind nurse who just showed up. 

When we show up for someone, He does too.  

 Psalm 26:8

I love your sanctuary, Lord, the place where your glorious presence dwells.

Tyler is 25 years old today!  Happy birthday to him.  

When there is no happy ending

2 Samuel 22:34

He makes me as surefooted as a deer, enabling me to stand on mountain 

heights. 

As I sat with tears streaming down my face, staring at my flooded basement, the memories washed over me. As I looked around, all I could do was stare in disbelief. Where do I even begin? This mammoth cleanup was the last straw. I sat in the middle of the mess and just sobbed.   

That same day, a mentoring relationship I had been in ended in a terrible way. It had left me reeling, filled with deep sadness and hurt. I was completely broken and undone. The faucet of tears wouldn't stop.

As I stood in ankle deep water of pain and loss, God showed himself to me. He reminded me of a scripture passage in Habakkuk 3. The Old Testament prophet’s prayer was exactly what I needed to hear in that moment.  

"Though the fig tree does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines, though the olive crop fails and the fields produce no food, though there are no sheep in the pen and no cattle in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will be joyful in God my Savior. He makes my feet like the feet of a deer. He enables me to tread on the heights."

As I sat in silence, those words began to take root in my heart. Somehow in the midst of the water-soaked pieces of my life, I could still rejoice. I could find joy.   

God led me back to all the beautiful ways He had met me as we built that mentoring relationship. She needed a place to live and was struggling to make sense of her life. I kept seeing God’s grace and direction through the months of my sharing with her how God meets us right where we are, in the midst of our pain. 

My own words were now exactly what I needed as I sat in this puddle of grief. 

God was gracious to me in that wet and soggy basement. He said "I'm refining you." He took my act of obedience and made my feet like a surefooted deer, as he called me to keep climbing. The terrain was rocky but he was strengthening me. He would help me stand again on new mountain heights. 

Was this really how God was ending our relationship? Where was the pretty box tied with the bow? There was nothing tidy about this. But He was showing me the path to rejoice. My family and friends offered me love and encouragement to keep climbing.  

As we offer God our basement experience, He passes it through the waters of His grace. We can believe that He will make us surefooted again. Standing on the heights is our only option. So let's keep climbing. 

Grace is the light at the end of the day!

As I look back on 40 years, I have to admit,  I can hardly remember my wedding vows.  But I do remember one line the pastor who married us, said.  

As we stood face to face, young and in love, nervous and excited in our beautiful wedding white.  Waiting for those words "you may kiss the bride".  The pastor stood proudly handing us our rings.  He said repeat after me. "As this ring has no end neither shall my love for you."

As a 19 year old I was pretty sure I knew what that meant.  I remember repeating those words and meaning them.  But we were young.  How could we really know?  

Over the years those words would come back to me.  Sometimes like a brick being thrown through a window.  

We would learn.  

It would be through struggle and sacrifice.   

Through laughter and tears.  

Through hard work and play.  

Through broken hearts and mended souls. 

Through building homes and growing relationships.  

Through enjoying vacations and forming friendships.   

Through the quiet and the chaos 

Through the messy and the joys. 

Through worship, prayer and church experiences. 

Through doubt and fear.  

Through feast and famine.  

Through gain and loss.  

Through accidents and broken bones.  Through babies and bottles.  

Through teenagers and cars.  

Through heaps of laundry to empty nest.  

We would often learn the hard way and at times things would come easy.  

Today, 40 years after we said our "I do's," it seems we say less words because we're pretty sure what the other is thinking.  

We've learned to extend grace.  Not that we always do.  But that's our desire.  

We've learned to laugh more.  Sometimes laughter is the best medicine.

We're learning to choose compassion over comparison.  That's not always easy.  

And did I mention sarcasm.  We may use it on occasion.  Ok maybe more than on occasion.  It works for us.   Let's face it sarcasm is sometimes the language of love. 

From long walks on the beach to motorcycle trips.  From date nights to small groups.  We look for our groove.  We seem to breathe the air of spontaneity.  

Do we get it right?   Sometimes yes, sometimes not at all.   We no longer look for perfect or right. 

We look for grace.   Grace wins.  

Grace has changed us.  Struggle has changed us.  Pain has changed us.  Perspective changed us.  Life changes us.  

Wisdom comes. Our corners are softened. We mellow with the seasons.  We become less fretful and more grateful.  

We begin to see the good in the hard. Sometimes the right in the wrong.  The simple in the complicated.  

We see Gods hand in the broken parts and the put together parts.  

We know that God redeems and grows and renews.  He brings beauty out of ashes.  Growth out of struggle.   Grace out of the mundane.  

The rings we wear remind us of Gods endless love.   When we felt we weren't enough, He stood in the gap.  He kept the circle for us.  

The experiences we've shared, the family we've raised, the places weve been. 

Indeed it is a beautiful inheritance!! 

Psalm 16:6.

The lines have fallen for me in pleasant places.  Indeed, I have a beautiful inheritance.

Yes!  Grace is the light at the end of the day! 

          July 31, 1976

40 years later!!

Our family.  

My fathers lunch box.

I was wandering through an antique store just recently with my friend Chelsea. I think for us our hearts are stirred by things and memories.  I'm glad she asked me to go.  We are kindred spirits when it comes to seeking treasures.  

My thoughts began to stir and my memories surfaced as I lingered over those long forgotten treasures.  

But it was a particular lunch box that caught my attention.  It immediately brought me back to my childhood.  I remember my dads lunch box was a worn, rusty, silver metal box.  I still see it sitting on the 60's formica counter.  That lunch box carried for me more than just its intentions.   

It represented consistency, loyalty, security, family, love, happiness, commitment.  It represented stability, hard work, perseverance and a man who loved to eat. 

I wondered how a simple metal lunch box could take on so many characteristics.  But it did. 

My dad was graciously committed to his family.   He died 6 years ago this month. 

But his memory continues to linger in my heart in a celebratory way.  So when I spotted this lunch box in the antique store, I had to buy it.  As a sweet memory and reminder of my dad, of his faith and hard work. 

It reminded me of my blessings of a happy childhood, of a committed father and husband to my mom. 

I can only imagine the many lunches this box carried for him, from my mom who made them faithfully each night.  

As I thought about that lunch box it brought me to the story about the little boy who offered his lunch of 5 loaves and 2 fish to Jesus. It was all he had.  But he gave what he had been given.   Jesus took his offerings and blessed them and multiplied it to feed thousands.  

My dad although he lived on a very small pension, he was rich.  And what he didn't need he gave away.   He gave from his heart.   He gave kindness, time and wisdom.  He gave a chuckle and a good belly laugh on a daily basis.  He gave away his faith like it was the most valued gift he owned. 

As I thought about that lunch box, altho I payed a very small amount, to me it was priceless.   It contains a reminder of my childhood. A reminder of what faith, grace and commitment look like.  A reminder of Gods ability to take a simple lunch and feed thousands.   

God is faithful. He may give you a simple lunch but when he blesses it. It may feed more than you know.  

He may give you simple words but maybe He'll feed many with those words or just one.   

He may give you a kind heart and with that truly love beyond your ability.  He may give you finances to share.  Then do that with a heart of gratefulness.  

Maybe He asks you to give grace at a time when it seems hopeless but it may be what satisfies.  

Whatever He may give you, it's ok if you give it away.  He may even multiply it!! 

So thankful for a father who gave what he had and allowed God to multiply it. 

 

Matthew 14:17-21

"We have here only five loaves of bread and two fish,” they answered.

“Bring them here to me,” he said.  And he directed the people to sit down on the grass. Taking the five loaves and the two fish and looking up to heaven, he gave thanks and broke the loaves. Then he gave them to the disciples, and the disciples gave them to the people. They all ate and were satisfied, and the disciples picked up twelve basketfuls of broken pieces that were left over.  The number of those who ate was about five thousand men, besides women and children.

1965. Visiting my dad at his job.