Quiet

Well, we did it.
The Smith family gathered...every one of us.
And it was great.
The fireplace was blazing, the snowmobile was zipping around the yard,
loads of firewood were cut & stacked on the porch,
Christmas lights twinkled on the tree and all over the house.
Our home overflowed with  food, presents,Wii games,
(Wheel of Fortune rocks!)
and little people of various ages running and riding and changing hands with regularity.

And there was noise. Lots and lots of noise.
Squealing, yelling, crying, arguing, discussing, but mostly... laughing.
Spontaneous, abundant, even hysterical laughter.
And I loved it. Every second.


God is good.

Tonight, the silence is deafening.
Even the kids that still live here are quiet.
A tiny forgotten sock reminds me of the vibrant life and love that just filled this place.
This was a precious time. A unique opportunity to gather and be the family that God created.
It may be one of many more... or the last.
Only My Father knows, and that's all right.
I am going to sip a cup of tea and relax into the comfort of memories. And quiet.

God is good, indeed.

Heavy weight.

Some times life weighs kinda heavy.
Not the mind numbing, emotion draining, fatigue loading kind of heavy.
Just that little extra pull on you shoulders and your soul...leaving you with a sigh and maybe a tear...or two.
The kind of feeling that is persuaded toward dissipation by a hug, or a kind smile, but sneaks back up and drapes itself around you...like a partially sunny day.

Don't get me wrong.
There is much in my life to celebrate and love and cause thanksgiving in my heart.
And I do. And I am.
And I trust a loving and gracious God. I do.

But sometimes things are not the way I think they should be. People are not who and what and where I want them to be. My efforts to befriend and help and love are not always rewarded...or even wanted.
I awaken with a groan, plod through my day, dragging my feet instead of blithely, breezily encountering the blessing that is morning and happily staring down what lies ahead.
Oh to be a sure-footed, motivated, focused person...steady on toward the prize that Paul so keenly lived for.
It is there for me as well. This I know, but don't always feel.
And I will continue to struggle with the things of this life. And the feelings that belie the truth dwelling within me.
And people will disappoint me, Christmas will be partially celebrated, life will seem unfair.
And yet God will be glorified.
Really. 

Lonely much?

I am an "Otter", an "I", a Sanguine...
I love people and parties and laughter and talking. I am somewhat of a compulsive talker. Whatever I am thinking generally makes it way from somewhere close to my brain out of my mouth with lightning speed.
To me shared silence is an uncomfortable and impending emptiness: It must be filled.
And so I talk and laugh and cajole and carry on.
But sometimes I crave quiet: the tea sipping, window gazing, scripture meditating silence that fills the room and wraps its peaceable arms around me. I have wondered if there might be a secret entry, a mysterious opening that would allow access to the inner sanctum of quiet and find that elusive prize. Rest.

And yet, as if it were one of life's mysteries, I find myself feeling lonely. Being lonely.
Perhaps a residual effect of living in a large house full of people.
Or maybe a subtle reminder from my Heavenly Father that I am not where I should be.
My home is where He is.
Maybe that empty nagging lonely feeling is always there, I just can't hear it over the noise of my own life.
(And all that talking.)
I wonder if Jesus was lonely.
If He could be in a room full of people and feel alone. Like I can.
I wonder if He missed His home. And His Father.
I do know that Jesus told me to come to Him and He would give me rest.
And when I finally get home, I don't think I will be lonely anymore.

Recalculating.

‎"Men past forty wake at nights, look out at city lights and wonder:
Why is life so long, and where did I take the wrong turn?" Ed Sissman

I happened upon that quote while reading Mark Buchanan's book on the Sabbath. And I liked it.

I can't really say why. I mean, it doesn't sound very "sovereign God-ish" (and yet I know He is) and it's a tad pessimistic. However, I am drawn to the truth that I find lurking there.

I do look out and over and around and behind. And I do wonder, how did I get here? Was this the "A"plan. Did I miss a turn or alley or something?

A couple of years ago my kids bought me a Garmin for my birthday. Love it!

(By the way, did you know that those have a "bicycle" mode. Yeah...there's a story there.)

Anyway, my favorite thing, besides not getting lost in south Chicago is: "Recalculating"...with a female Australian accent.

And I have heard that a lot. 

Seems that even when I have someone telling me exactly what to do and where to go, I manage to miss a turn or take the wrong exit...or just get lost. 

Perhaps there is a lesson for me to learn from my Garmin. I need to stop. Take time to recalculate my life through the pages of God's word and on my face before Him in prayer and submission to His Will for me.

And believe. Believe that He is good. All the time. And know that I am exactly where He wants me to be. 

No matter what my Garmin says.

 

 

Christmas Time is here

It's been a great week.
I did some shopping, watched my boys play basketball, decorated my house, cranked up the Christmas music & filled the yard with twinkling lights.
I had some good conversations with my kids.
Yup...it's been a good week.
And now, 18 days until Christmas.
But more importantly, 15 days until my grown kids & their families start arriving.
And yes...we are more than a little excited.
Soon this house will be bursting at the seams with laughter & food & Guitar Hero sessions & food & love & umm...food.
However, it's looking like we may not all be able to be home at the same time this year. This will be a first and I am not liking it.
I love that my kids are growing & grown and following after the Lord in the endeavors of their lives. But I will be keenly aware of the absence of my second born daughter and her husband this year. Indeed, there will be many empty  places...in the kitchen, at the drums, around the game table, at the other end of a snowball...
"Dislike".
Yes Christmas time is here. And it will be great.
With a touch of bittersweet.
Merry Christmas.

My Migraines

Recently I was laying in my bed, hours into my latest migraine.
Not fun on so many levels.
As I ruminated on my unhappy situation I wondered, "What would I be doing with all this 'lost" time?"
And then I thought about all of the things I could be doing, people I could be Facebook stalking, all those important tasks that were being left undone. And there I lay; imprisoned in a fog of pain and nausea and drugs.
What a waste of time. Really.
Then ("Thank you Lord") I began to think about the Apostle Paul. He was an incredible man: privileged, intelligent, learned, influential and languishing in prison.
What was up with that?  What was being accomplished? How was God being glorified?  How did Paul's imprisonment, beatings, and persecution further the Gospel?
What purpose could there be for so much wasted and lost time in Paul's life?
^{Philippians 1:12-14 The Message "}I want to report to you, friends, that my imprisonment here has had the opposite of its intended effect. Instead of being squelched, the Message has actually prospered. All the soldiers here, and everyone else, too, found out that I'm in jail because of this Messiah. That piqued their curiosity, and now they've learned all about him. Not only that, but most of the followers of Jesus here have become far more sure of themselves in the faith than ever, speaking out fearlessly about God, about the Messiah." 
OK.  Wow.
Somehow, God was using Paul without really using Paul. Paul was just being Paul; faithful, trusting, obedient, praising God.  God was redeeming the "wasted" part of Paul's life and people were being saved and were growing in their faith..
While Paul sat painfully, patiently in prison.
Hmm...
So, with my puny view of life in mind, I impatiently endure my migraines, frustrated with the time that is a-wastin'...umm...why?
My God is sovereignly over my life. I am right where He wants me to be. For His purposes. For His plans. On this day, perhaps my migraine is nothing more than an inkling that indeed, God is God. And I am not.
(Sing it Steven!)
A reminder that He does not need me to "do" anything. Period.
God's Will will be accomplished.
Even if I have a migraine.

49 and counting...

This June I will be 50. Or, as Braden likes to tell me, "half-way to 100". I find this sobering.
Sobering because, well, wow. That is a long time. Lots of dreams, ideas, attempts.  Many indelibly written across the plains of memory. Others flew through so quickly that I could barely get my hand out before they fluttered through my grasp like tired leaves through empty branches.
As a teenager I confidently dreamed of what was to come. My enthusiasm for the future was vast and varied and vague.  But as the shape of my life developed, "vague" grew and began to edge out vast and eventually muted varied and the brightness of  the future was tarnished by the residue of now.
As I stop here in the middle, I am again gazing into the unknown. Less ignorant than a teenager and excited anew to see through the shroud of now to what lies ahead for me.
Planned and crafted by My Father.
 For His Glory.

"The Motions"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qaHmiFaX_pk