50 1/2... and still learning.

Remember when you used to count your "half" birthdays...
"Nanette is 6"... "No, I am 6 1/2, thank you very much."

These days birthdays just kinda come and go for me... once I turned 40, I just didn't really care to mark them.
At my 50th, my dad told me life was all pretty much downhill at this point ... yeah.
Thanks Dad.

So here I sit... 50 years, 6 months and 5 days... just past my latest "half" birthday and I gotta say, I am feeling a bit older and maybe even wiser. (OK... a wee bit wiser)
Kinda wondering why it took so long but, hey, after much praying, studying, reading and applying, I have arrived... sorta.

One of the books I am reading is Counterfeit Gods by Timothy Keller.
In one of the early chapters he talks about how some parents make gods out of their children; basically worshiping them and putting them before their own relationship with God.
And, while I don't suppose anyone really does that purposefully, I have seen it.
And the results are not good.

I love my children. 

But a long time ago (... in a galaxy far, far away... ) God taught me a painful but necessary lesson about "my" kids: they aren't "mine" at all. 

They are His. 

He has a purpose and a plan for each of them... and at some point, I need to step aside and let them go find it.

Thankfully, in one of my brighter moments, I "got" it. And I have worked to do just that. And frankly, it is work.

I am still tempted to fix and plan and interfere with what God is doing in their lives.... thinking that I know what is best for them. 

But that is a lie.

I don't know.

God does.

And He has shown me over and over again the wisdom of trusting my children fully to Him. 

Lately God has been using my kids to teach me the lessons that I have been too stubborn, proud and selfish to learn on my own.

Let me say... if I would have been half as wise as my kids are when I was a teenager, well, the baggage would be considerably lighter, for sure.
And let's be clear... I take no credit for the amazing, faith-filled, God-loving, compassionate, loving people that my children are becoming.
That, my friend, belongs solely to My Heavenly Father; Who, for His own pleasure, has graciously poured out His Spirit into their lives.
(Amen.)

Watching God work in my kid's lives is a privilege that I do not take lightly.
Applying those lessons to my own life hasn't always come easily.
But I have taught my family much about God and His Truth through "teachable moments"
(well, OK... I have been accused of preaching...) and God does the same for me.

Recently I had a conversation with one of my kids who has a passion to see real change happen in people lives, for the Glory of God: water wells drilled in Africa, missionaries sent out without financial concern... needs met, Jesus introduced, lives changed.
And this young adult is prepared to use the abilities and resources that God has given to plan and work and sacrifice to see these visions realized.
And as I listened, I sensed the heartbeat of God and His Spirit spoke to my heart about my own plans, thoughts, passions.

Another one of my kids recently worked through a difficult personal situation. I marveled at the wisdom, grace and humility that was displayed.
Wrongs by both parties involved were recognized, named and dealt with... the best they could be.
The desire to see God honored and hurt minimized impressed me.
How I wish I had been such a thoughtful, wise teenager.
My own conscience revealed to me some less than mature feelings that I was harboring toward others... and confession and correction was necessary.

Time after time I have listened to the insight and wisdom that God has given yet another one of my kids (you know I have 6... right?) and truthfully, I have been shamed by the maturity and Godliness that has been displayed.
I am watching as God uses honesty, selfless, sacrificial giving, a desire to know God fully, coupled with a passion for others to know His love, to direct toward the path He has already prepared for this young adult to traverse.
And I am reminded again that God has a plan and a purpose for my life... even at 50 1/2. I need to continue to seek His face, learn from Him, forget myself and all that I "thought" He had for me to do... and just simply obey.

As a mom, I have listened to the cries of broken hearts,
wiped the tears of unrealized dreams,
and tried to fill the emptiness of unfulfilled desires, hurting right along with each child, each time.
But  I have also seen God's gracious work in their lives as they have remained faithful to Him.
And I have been challenged to trust God to do the same for me.

So yes... after almost 33 years of parenting, I am buoyed by the knowledge that my children desire to follow God and to honor Him with their lives: seeing them actively pursuing His purposes and engaging in Kingdom work.
(They really should be so screwed up!)

I have to admit that I have learned much more about godly living from my kids than they have learned from me. But that's OK with me.

Should I live another 50 1/2 years ( oh goodness....) I will continue to ask My Father to teach me, and give me the desire to learn, hopefully with child-like faith and wonder... never forgetting to thank Him for the mercy and grace that He has chosen to bestow.

I love my kids.
God loves them more.
And I am so thankful that He does.

"I have no greater joy than to hear that my children are walking in the truth."  3 John 1:4

Forward Progress

It's been a while.
I have had a lot of things running through my heart and mind but just haven't felt like sorting through it all.
Life is confusing and hard and wearisome... indeed.
But God is faithful.
And I know it.

God has been working on me in a couple of areas lately:
Do I believe He is sovereign and live accordingly, like I say I do?
And, motive; specifically my heart's attitude:  Why I do, want, and don't "do".
The growing pains have been severe.

The past 12 months have been some of the hardest in my life.
Just when I thought I was successfully making progress, God was right there to remind me of my incompleteness. Again. Still.
While I lack nothing in Him, I lack much within my self.
And it is frustrating. Really.

This is definitely not an announcement of my "arrival".
Rather,  I am realizing that this is indeed a journey that requires faith to even believe that there is light at the end of the tunnel.

This is where what I say I believe about Who God is and how I live matters.
The needed acquiescence of my will, my heart, my mind to God's Sovereignty... flesh and spirit in synch with the Will of the Holy One.
Boy... this is hard.
The meagerness of my faith manifest in my ongoing battle with pride and unbelief and flesh... sin. Ugh.
But My Father, in His perfect loving Mercy and Grace, patiently corrects my path and renews my thinking by bringing trials and Truth straight to my heart.
And that is where the strength is.
Nothing I can muster on my own can compare to the incredible work that His Spirit does.

Did I mention that is has been painful?
I have searched His Word for comfort, sought the counsel of godly people, and spent a lot of time in tears. Seriously.
And I have prayed... well, more like the Romans 8:26 kind of praying... sometimes prostrate on my bedroom carpet, other times laying on the trampoline in the night... crying out to my Abba Father... because He told me I could.
He has answered my cries.
OK... not all of them them way I had  prayed for or secretly hoped...( like there is a difference before my Omniscient Father).

See, hardly anything has really changed.
Not my circumstances. Not my relationships. Not my status nor my location.
But I am.
No, nothing profound or amazing... well, OK...kinda.

God has calmed some of my fears.
He has worked in some relationships.
He has given me the ability to accept some unchangeable things and even some changeable ones.
Mostly He has taught me to stop in the midst of disquiet, anxiety, fear and frustration and remember that He is the author of every event in my life.
Every thing, person, situation that crosses my path is ordained by My Loving Father.
Yup.

Kinda makes all that whining seem a little... well, unnecessary to say the least.

But I am not apologizing for it. Honestly, God knows me. No point in trying to hide.
And He used my whining and crying out and real desire for change, to get me to where He wanted me so that He could do what He already planned for me.
And I am incredibly thankful.

So... yeah... I have not arrived, but I am moving along a better path and I think, ever so faintly, I might see some light down there after all.

Forward!

Transition

Signs of summer's demise are all around... flocking birds, cool mornings, darker evenings, wilting gardens, school supplies, leaden clouds and bright blue skies, the Crawford County Fair, and empty bedrooms.
(I was hoping it would also include me in Texas... )

A time of transition.
Transition:movement, passage, or change from one position, state,stage, subject, concept, etc., to another.


For us there is homeschool instead of public school for two of my kids and college in Texas for another. And a household closer to the size of the national average : 2.48 people.
(Not sure I want to see the .48 person)

Several of my friends are in transition also... moving to and from this area... different jobs, new church families, babies...
Or kids off to college, the military... or just moving out of their home; beginning journeys that will most likely take them away and off into God's plan for their lives... perhaps never to return "home", except for holidays and funerals.
Good and necessary for the kids... a little hard on the moms.

Yup, transition is part of life. Every day, everywhere, everyone shares this experience.

But beyond the physical realm, I yearn for a spiritual transition.
A change from self-absorbed, self-controlled, self-willed living, to a total dependance and acceptance of the place and plan which is mine... because of Christ.
I am a child of God...
Romans 8: 17- " and if children, heirs also; heirs of God and joint heirs of Christ, if indeed we suffer with Him so that we might also be glorified with Him."
Suffering with Him... hmm... I think that suffering with Him could mean a lot of things... putting to death my flesh included.

Lately I have been thinking more about the Sovereignty of God and what that means for my everyday life. I admit, when it comes to spiritual things, I can be a bit of a slow learner. But I get this. I do.  However, I find myself tempted...um... hourly (?) to react, act, maneuver, complain, cry out, disbelieve... (anyone with me here)... to change things... and it frustrates me. Greatly.

Like the aforementioned lack of Texas residency. I mean, really. I felt God's pull on my heart several years ago to look beyond where I was so comfortably sitting. And as the months went by He unhooked a lot of my "feelings" and replaced them with thoughts of what He wants to do in our lives... and frankly we believe that includes change. And, while willing to go or stay or whatever... we really think that our direction is pretty clear. However, the circumstances have yet to present themselves. And I am getting impatient. And restless. And a little annoyed.

Like watching my kids deal with difficulties, and wanting to jump ahead and straighten their way... thinking that my involvement would certainly improve things... but hearing God's Spirit tell me to wait and trust Him. And not always agreeing... still thinking I have skills that are needed. Yup.

Like watching the news (which frankly, I do very little of anymore) and becoming overwhelmed with the need... physical, spiritual.... and asking God what is up with, for instance,  starving children in the Horn of Africa or the thousands of kids in foster care or orphanages, human trafficking, slavery... goodness.
What is God doing? (Am I allowed to ask that?)

And is this part of the suffering? This feeling of impotence combined with ever increasing frustration at my apparent inability to impact well, much of anything.

Honestly I just want to go home... to Heaven. Now, please.

But then I find myself smack up against my knowledge (gleaned from scripture) that God is in total control, He misses nothing, He ordained EVERYTHING.
*Sigh* ... but it's a good sigh.

See this transition that I desire is not going to happen overnight, or because I want it, or because God needs me to change...
rather  it is a process that God so graciously started in me the day He chose to make me spiritually alive.
Because He wanted to.
And He promises in Philippians 1:6 to finish what He started in me.

So my transition from dead in my sin enemy of God, to perfect child of God, (however still sinful), is in progress.
And all God requires of me is to trust Him; believe Him; glorify Him.

And while I am far from perfected, the journey toward Christ-likeness is ongoing... ending when I am finally Home.

And I am joyfully, expectantly hoping for that transition.

Sanctus Real - Forgiven (Slideshow With Lyrics)

Freedom: In progress.

OK, it's been over a month since I wrote my last post.
I tried several times and even have a couple of half-finished drafts saved.
But the truth is, I haven't wanted to share the thoughts in my head. 
There has been much whirling around; vignettes of conversations (real and imagined), a goodly share of "same old, same old"(that is really getting old, even to me), some regrets, a little drama and a continued flirtation with hopelessness. And tears. 
I have listened to Sanctus Real's "Forgiven" over and over again, feeling like I was living out every line and chorus... but still waiting to "feel" the closeness to God and the freedom that I know comes with His forgiveness.


This week I spent time with some incredible, godly, Jesus-loving ladies. 
What a blessing. 
What a privilege. 
As we prayed, sang and considered God's Word, I was taken with a spirit of thankfulness... and it's been a while since I felt that. :)
I am thankful for God's unchanging character and Word; thankful for His Presence in that room; thankful for women who spent 2 hours talking about Biblical things, real things that will matter for eternity... honest, open, frank discussion that I know pleased our Father.
I have needed this. 
I have missed this.
I loved it. 


We talked about using our shields of Truth to combat the evil one... and I realized that I had not done that for a long time. 
I have been trying to out-talk the negative talk, out-think the negative thoughts and work really hard at fixing the things that seem broken. 
I was wrong.


No wonder I have been so discouraged and unable and frustrated. 
I wasn't supposed to be "doing" all of that. I was supposed to be using what I know to be true about God and my relationship with Him to cause me to trust His Sovereign Grace. 
Period. 


And this is where I have found the beginning of freedom... right smack in the middle of trusting God to be... well, GOD.
Beautiful, life-giving, grace-bestowing, mercy-showing freedom. 
Freedom to be who God made me to be... sure of His Love and acceptance. 
And free from the primary desires of my flesh filled heart to please men, to be included, to feel wanted and accepted, loved.
Not that those are necessarily bad things, but I think that they mattered more to me than what My Father thought of me.

I wish I could say that I have been "freed" of all my baggage... the stuff that has been hanging off my neck for the last while. I can't. I haven't.

But I can agree with God that He will sustain & admonish me and allow all that He wills so that He can make me who He wants me to be... to fulfill the purpose He has for me.
And that, indeed, is freedom.

So yeah, I may never finish the drafts I have saved.
They reek of selfishness, discouragement and unbelief.
And, at times, so do I.
But I am determined to practice using my shield to block the fiery darts of the enemy... even if it is within.

And I will continue to work at loving those who have hurt me, praying for others (even the people for whom I don't feel like praying), memorizing God's word (1/2 way through Romans 8... Yes!), and meditating on His promises.
Because that is where I will find God, truth, grace, forgiveness... and freedom.

Thank you Jesus.

Distract me, please.

Distract: to cause to turn away from the original focus of attention or interest. 

OK... if you know me at all you know that being distracted is not something for which I usually need to ask.
I tend to hang out in that realm.

I have trouble maintaining a long conversation without my eyes and mind roaming away from my companion, letting my thoughts stray, eyes glazing over,  and then blurting something totally unrelated and  inappropriate to the discussion at hand or abruptly pointing out an adorable child or other interesting person walking past.
(This is not news to my friends.)
Often when I clean, I will start in one room, move to another to put something away, trip over the open dishwasher, spy an interesting magazine cover, begin to read an article, remember I wanted to google something, realize I'm thirsty, open the cupboard to get a glass, remember I meant to start a load of laundry, leaving the cupboard door hanging open, then see that the sun is out and end up sitting on the deck, soaking up the warmth,  playing with a kitten.
Really.
(This is not news to my family.)
Yup... I have taken some of those Adult ADD tests.... and passed.

So I find myself in a strange place; I need to be distracted.

Lately I have been very absorbed, attentive and obsessed with someone.
Someone that is consuming me to the place that I am no longer acting like "myself".
I am at times irritable, discontent, anxious, plagued with doubts, struggling to find purpose and focus to my days, lacking peace, sleeping fitfully, crying randomly...  honestly, often, miserable.

See... I need to be distracted, separated from this person.

The problem is this person is ... me.
And until I am perfected in heaven, well, I am kinda stuck with "me".
And frankly, so are you, my friend.

The problem isn't in "who" I am:
Nanette Elizabeth Milner Smith
Born 4th among 5 siblings
50 yrs. old
Married to Tom
Mother to 6 fabulous children
Grandma to 3 beautiful, equally fabulous children
Blessed with many acquaintances and some great friends
And most importantly... a chosen child of God.

That is all good.
Great in fact.

But somewhere in this past year I have allowed the relationships, experiences and circumstances in my life to turn my attention inward, deeper and deeper, and I have forgotten my intended, necessary focal point, thereby setting up foundation stones that bear a creepy resemblance to... um... me.
( All together now... yuck!)

And it's not like I don't know better.
I have spent much time studying God's word, reading the works of godly, great people (most of whom are dead), imploring My Father to make me like His Son.
No, it's not lack of knowledge.
It's the application.
And the believing.

I would love to be able to just pray a prayer, and "ZAP!"... all fixed.  Wouldn't you?
But I have learned, mostly from being a mom for 32 years, that while "zapping" things into rightness sounds good, without the corrective discipline that comes from working through hard things, history is bound to repeat.

So I have determined to set my thoughts, time and focus onto the "right" things.:
God
His Word
His Will
and less about me: who, what, & where I am.

I dug out some good reading:
Desiring God - John Piper  (again)
The Good News We Almost Forgot - Kevin DeYoung
Foundations of Grace - Steven Lawson
Your God is Too Safe - Mark Buchanan  (again)
The Book of God - Walter Wangerin  (third time)
Philippians (Again... still), Romans & Proverbs (favorite)  - God
(Surely you are not surprised that I read several books at the same time.... are you?)
I am determined to endeavor to discipline myself to spend time reading, meditating, memorizing (Romans 8.... here I come...gonna get past verse 23 this time!!).
And talking more to My Father, my Abba Father:
Choosing to invite Him into all my thoughts (Think Brother Lawrence), and actions.
Crying out for His mercy and grace and bringing others to His throne, concerned with the needs and struggles of others.... hopefully diminishing my own selfish whining in the process.
Taking what His Spirit shows me, applying it to my heart and mind and actions, purifying my motives, giving rest and peace to my soul.
I believe that this is the antidote to all the "me-ness" I have been indulging in lately.

So, I guess my request for distraction needs to go straight to the Throne of Grace, where my Father sits, high and lifted up and rightfully adored.
Clearly, I cannot do any of this on my own.
I have tried: Repeated, epic fail.
But by choosing to discipline myself, forcing my mind to dwell on His Word, using my time to cultivate my relationship with Him, I allow my soul to acquiesce to the Holy Spirit's work in me, and with time and desire God may change the shape of my foundation stones, mercifully, graciously, forming new ones that slowly, surely resemble Jesus Christ.... my beloved Savior.

Oh yes... please... distract me with Jesus.






Isa 6:1-8 "I saw the Lord sitting upon a throne, high and lifted up; and his train filled the temple. Above him stood the seraphim; each ... one called to another and said: "Holy, holy, holy is the LORD of hosts; the whole earth is full of his glory." And the foundations of the thresholds shook at the voice of him who called, .... And I said: "Woe is me! For I am lost; for I am a man of unclean lips, ...; for my eyes have seen the King, the LORD of hosts!" Then flew one of the seraphim to me.... And he touched my mouth, and said: "Behold, ...; your guilt is taken away, and your sin forgiven." 

Blog, Blog, Blog...

If you are reading this now, good chance you've been here before.
I've been "blogging" for 7 months and this is my 52nd post.
Does that seem like a lot?
Well, if you know me, you will know that most of what I think ends up out my mouth anyway, so it's not surprising that I have been a busy blogger.

Over the past months I have sat at this keyboard and let my musings, frustrations, revelations and interactions flow from my heart and mind onto this "page".
If you are family member or friend, perhaps you have even been the inspiration or catalyst behind some of my writing.
I have borne some criticism along the way, mostly from people who thought I was writing about them, and that kinda stung at first.
My intention is not to use my blog to hurt or "teach a lesson" to any one person.
Nor do I pretend to have the power to prick a heart, bring about guilt, or name someone else's sin.
In fact, I have emptied my heart here, time & time again, with no other motive than to share the story of a sinner, saved by grace.

Most of my writing is a reflection of the fragments of my life, recent and past, and how God is using them  to put together (inexplicably) something good... and the sometimes messy method by which this all takes place.
And yes, usually He uses the people with whom I relate, and the situations that arise, to teach me.
If along the way, someone else relates as well... well, that just might be the point.

By far, The loudest comments have been from people who identify with what I write.
(I have had readers from several countries including Singapore, Croatia, Australia, Canada and Germany... um... I don't think I know anyone in Croatia. )
Many have found themselves between the lines and have been encouraged to know they don't struggle alone.
Some of my writing has been very transparent; raw, if you will.
More than once I have wondered at the wisdom (or lack) of sharing myself so clearly, openly, painfully.
But the expressions of gratitude, appreciation and yes, even relief, expressed to me by readers are louder than the awkward thud of my fall from my own pedestal.

So, yeah, I will write and I will pray that God will change me as I meditate on His Word, apply it to my life and wrestle with the results... recording my journey on this page.
And if God uses this blog to encourage you, my friend, in any way, that's a bonus for which I take no credit.

You use steel to sharpen steel, 
   and one friend sharpens another. ~ Proverbs 27:17

Cleaning Day

Ok... today is the day.

I am going to clean out Chad's room.

I have been in there only briefly the past two weeks and have yet to leave it without crying.

But... today is a new day. A beginning of sorts. 

I may turn it into a study, or a sewing room, or something... anything that doesn't resemble Chad's empty room.  

Not sure, but, for now.... I am going in!

I wish it were that easy to deal with some other areas of my life that need a good cleaning.

Like... my thoughts, my attitude, (my house, but... maybe later), my mouth.

Actually it will be much easier to spend the day in Chad's room than tackle any one of those things. 

And really, if I would clean out the junk in my heart... well that would take care of the rest of it.

God's Word tells me:

"The good man out of the good treasure of his heart brings forth what is good; and the evil man out of the evil treasure brings forth what is evil; for his mouth speaks from that which fills his heart. Luke 6:45

I think it is interesting that God calls both the evil and the good stuff, "treasure". [Valuable or precious possessions of any kind.]

It is true. There are things that I keep in my heart, attitudes and thoughts and even memories, that are evil.

Yet I must regard them as treasure, otherwise, why are they still there?

Yeah. Guilty. 

And the unkind, unedifying, uncontrolled stuff that flies out of my mouth, has it's roots (at least) in this evil treasure. (Yuck.)

Hmmm...

So the obvious action to take is to clean it out. Remove the old, evil treasure and replace it with new. 

I suppose the kind that doesn't tarnish or get eaten by moths would be a good place to start. 

But, like everything else God wants me to do, my first inclination is to whine about how hard it is going to be.

After all, I treasure this stuff... this is gonna leave a mark.

Identifying the source of the treasure seems kinda important.

Maybe, if I can determine my motivation for saving it, I can find the path to removing it. 

I know that some of it is there just 'cause I want it there. 

Stubborn, selfish, sure.

But I fear that the farther I go, the more clearly I will see that the very bottom, the fine, thready ends of the roots, are buried in pride.

And the only antidote to that is, well, humility.

And that really is hard. 

Humility requires me to work in tandem with God's Holy Spirit, powered by God's Grace.

“God opposes the proud, but gives grace to the humble.” James 4:6

I must be:

Humble enough to admit I am proud.

Humble as I approach those who I have offended, and offer my request for forgiveness... and humble as I am approached by others, granting forgiveness in kind.

Humble as I take my thoughts captive, releasing my ideas for justice, vindication, exposure, dwelling on God's abundance of Goodness, Rightness and Mercy and trusting Him to right the "wrongs" that fill my life... and mind.

Humble to admit that the source of my evil treasure is the sin that dwells within my very nature... and that I am wholly dependent on God's Grace to put that aside.

So, through prayer and the Truth of God's Word, I will do some cleaning. 

As I do, I will endeavor to reconcile relationships, replace criticism and intolerance with love and patience, and approach daily difficulties believing in the Goodness and Greatness of God's Sovereignty.

Hopefully resulting in the golden glow of the good treasure of God's glorious Grace.

And then, I should probably clean my house. :) 

Hoping.

So yeah, ... the sun is out and one of my kids is back sleeping in her room tonight.
I am liking life a little better.
Yes... I'm a little moody these days.

I don't like letting my words, actions and thoughts be dictated by my circumstances. I really don't.
I long to be able to be kind and sweet and thankful and gracious... no matter what is going on in my life.
I think that would make me much more like Jesus.
But, I fall short, very short time and time again.

Lately I have been under a lot of emotional stress, some (most?) self-inflicted but painful just the same.
I'm losing weight and my hair is starting to fall out (again).
I have read and studied and prayed and read and counseled and prayed....well you get the picture.
But here I am... again.
Stuck in a cycle that I should know how to stop... right?

So, for the umpteenth time, I am crying out to my Father to save me from my own weakness.
To use His Spirit to turn my lack into his plenty, my feebleness into His power, my garbage into His Glory.
I know, that sounds audacious doesn't it?
Why would a Holy God bother with me at all, let alone take the time to change my yucky stuff into His Glory.
Yup... doesn't make any sense to me either. But He does it. I know He does.
He has transformed and redeemed much in my life... but there is still so much more that is not conformed to His Son.
I am not even close.

And, as usual I have no great plan to end this ongoing struggle.
As far as I can tell, it seems to be permanent.
This tension between who I am and who I want to be.... ought to be.
And while there is much that I do know and understand, the unknowns and the unknowables continue to block my "progress".

Gaining little from my efforts, yet I continue to meditate on what I expected, wanted, deserved.... instead of the merciful, loving works of my Father.
Concerned with what people say and do and don't do and how that rudely bonks into my comfort bubble; bringing hurt, anger, defeat.... and once again, not trusting that my Sovereign Lord has me right where He wants me to be... to do what He wants to do with and through and in spite of me.

Goodness.
Actually, what I really want.... is to go home. To be done.
To rest at the feet of Jesus.

While I can't see any redeeming value in what my life "accomplishes", apparently God does.  Cause here I am.
Realistically, I can expect more of the same: childish, impatient, selfish, uncaring, unkind, unforgiving attitudes... and that's just me. Ugh.
But I can also expect that my God loves me. He is going to be good and faithful and merciful and gracious.
And somehow in His time, He is going to make me more like Jesus.
And I'm going to like it.

Be Quiet

Apparently it is fly season... it must go along with the rainy season or something.
Seriously, they are everywhere.
All over my car, hanging on the window screens and lately, gathering in my home... seemingly to irritate its inhabitants. I mean, really, what purpose is there for flies in my house?
We have flyswatters strategically placed all over the house and we are gaining on them... well kinda.
The little ones seem kinda dumb & dazed and are easily assaulted.
But it's that lone big one... bouncing off of light bulbs, diving bombing my dinner, laughing at our attempts to whack him out of the air, that draws my ire.
And just when I think all is clear, and I turn on my reading light and settle into my chair... yup here it comes; buzzing, bopping, annoyingly close but just out of reach... drawing my attention, distracting me from my intended task... provoking.

Lately I have been haunted by some unkind (and I would like to say "unmerited") words that were directed toward me.  If you read my last post then you have a bit of an idea of what I've been going through. (Understatement? ;) )

I have invested more emotion into this encounter than necessary, and I am not sure why.
Being misinterpreted and misunderstood are hard. Being unable to defend myself has made it even harder.
I am struggling to decipher what is really going on in my head, and my heart and arrive at a sensible reason for my continued unrest.
I have spent time discussing this with family and friends and have received a wise consensus of opinion.  And I trust it... and them. (you know who you are... I love you.)
But like that big ole murmuring fly, it just keeps circling around in my head... and my feeble attempts to ignore it lack lasting results.
What is wrong with me?
Why am I struggling so with this?

Well, as of this writing I have had no epiphany.
Yes, there is pride, and selfishness, and my ever present need for approval. (Seriously would like to get over that one. )
But I think there is more.
I despise injustice. My mother used to tell me that she hoped one day I had a child whose favorite cry was :"It's not fair!"  I guess she got a little weary of my constant whining.
And I feel like this is not fair. Not only were the things said only partially true, but some were flat out lies. And certainly I was not treated with respect or even friendship.
Am I making a convincing case?

But here it is.
I should be ok with this. I really should.

Last week, in the middle of my self-supported drama, God gave me a "vision" of Jesus standing before His accusers. With His mouth shut.
Hmmm...

Really... how would you respond to that?
I am humbled and convicted. But still sinfully selfish.
I want avenged, darn it.
I want others to know... oh wait, did I accomplish that in attempts to gain support and sympathy?
Hmmm...

That's not what Jesus did.
Nope.
He just took it.

Probably the most practical piece of advice I got in all of this was"Abandon ship!"
Let it go.
Perhaps through the power of prayer, the influence of the Holy Spirit, the acquiescence of my will,  I can do just that.
Willing to face unanswered questions, unexplained motives, with silence.
Quieting the noise in my soul with the Truth.

Isaiah 41:10  So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.

Say Grace

It's been quite a week.
Mother's day was great. Really. My kids really blessed me with their time, thoughtfulness, sentiments and gifts.  And I loved every minute.
I felt loved, remembered, appreciated... my big three. :)
It was good.

A week later, however, I am exhausted from a week that resembles the Blue Streak at Conneaut Lake Park. (Yeah... I know it's broken.... see what I mean.)
I have been stretched emotionally to as close to breaking as I have been in a long  time.
Unkind words, miscommunication, misinterpretation, judgement, criticism, all combined with a double dose of emotional fatigue, a dash of hopelessness and a heaping portion of loneliness....
It's been tough.
And I have wallowed around in my misery, tears flowing effortlessly, verbally spewing onto anyone crazy enough to get close.
What is the point?

Not sure I can answer that. Not sure it matters.

During church this morning, God spoke to me, again, about His grace.
I have been feeling a bit "grace-less".
Not only do I feel I've not been receiving it, I haven't been doing a very good job at bestowing it myself.
Funny how you can get so wrapped up in your own "stuff" that you can justify most actions, or lack of actions.
And that, I have done.
A few strategic Pride & Prejudice quotes, a little gossip (slander?), unkindness, and an unforgiving spirit.
(Feel free to turn away if you can't take anymore...it's not pretty)
And of course the inaction: no mercy, no patience, no tolerance.
Not grace-full at all.
Certainly not anything that satisfies the query "What would Jesus do?"
 (Yeah, I kinda rise and fall on that one.)

My Pastor spoke about how as pilgrims we should never be evil to one another, never insulting; but be tenderhearted, humble... and then the clincher: be a blessing.
(Seriously...I have been waiting to be blessed. I think I kind of deserve it. After all, my life is hard. Didn't you just read about my week?)
Up to that point I was mentally listing off the people who had indeed, perpetrated these things against me. (Really, I was)
But as I thought about what Pastor was saying, my list and the accompanying justification, kinda lost its attraction, and I was humbled by my sin.
And, true to the presiding emotional state I was in, I had to leave part-way through to go cry in the ladies room.

Somewhere in between wadded up kleenex, I was humbled by the grace that My Father has shown me. His Spirit revealing my selfishness, pride and lack of belief....reoccurring themes in my imperfect life. And a splash of arrogance.
Really...why do I think I deserve any more, any better than what My Father's sovereign hand so graciously gives me?
Why do I insist on my way, my timing, my comfort?
Why do I live like I don't trust God?
Not sure I have a great answer for these questions either.

This process of becoming more like Him and less like me is hard, and long. My commitment needs to be certain, steady, long-suffering. But too often I wimp out.
My time with My Father has been brief as of late.
Hurried devotions, when I have them.
Selfish, short prayers.
Little meditation on His Word... much rumination on myself and my discontent, unmet expectations, unclear future.
Perhaps these are all reasons for this past week.

Or maybe the affliction that I have seemingly endured, is there to reveal God's wisdom and grace to me.
I think I am asking the wrong questions.
Instead of wondering why I am so deficient, perhaps I should be focusing on the "Who" behind everything that is my life.
Time spent searching His Word, discovering His attributes, claiming His promises, could take my focus from my self-absorption, casting it in a much worthier direction.

And, as I discover My Lord anew, His Spirit will work in me... bringing hope, forgiveness, peace... and grace into my heart.
If I ask, perhaps enough to slosh over the sides and splash onto those around me.

So I start this new week, determined to look more at Him than me.
Focused straight ahead, willing to channel His love, mercy and grace.
Instead of plotting quiet revenge on those who have offended me, I will attempt to edify, forgive and love.
Even my enemies.

**************
I'm very fond of walking. 
Yes... yes I know. 
It's refreshing, is it not after sitting so long in one attitude? 
And it is a small kind of accomplishment, I suppose.

- (Pride & Prejudice...the movie)

I Accept

"In acceptance lieth peace." ~ Amy Carmichael
Several years ago I found this quote and copied it out of her biography onto a little piece of notebook paper. It hangs on my bulletin board and from time to time I pause to meditate on the truth it contains.

Lately, peace has been fleeting... like polite smiles and sunshine in NW PA.
It comes, I have it.... I feel it.
And then it's gone; chased away by a fearful thought, unexpected circumstance, unanswered question.

I get that peace flows straight from the gracious hand of My Father.
I know that He desires me to be at peace... and to rest in His Sovereign Goodness.
But sometimes what I know in my mind travels a winding, fractious path to my heart; warring with my flesh the whole way.

Recently I implored My Heavenly Father to allow me to hang onto something that He seemed determined to take from me.
Using both hands I gripped this thing, digging my heels in, pulling it to my chest... declaring my ownership of it. Foolishly convinced that I knew better: I needed this.
 It. Was. Mine... darn it.
Yup... He took it anyway.
And I was left on my face, outstretched arms weary from the battle, hands emptied of my treasure... weeping.  (Seriously. Like a baby.)

Then God spoke straight to my heart; bypassing my brain, my reasons and my selfishness.
I was convicted of my pride, my foolishness... my sin.
And as I confessed my failure and my weakness, God allowed me a glimpse of what He was doing to me and in me.
And, of course, it was not about me. It was about Him. And His Glory.
I was holding my possession so high that it was casting a shadow on my reflection of Him.
Ultimately impeding the flow of His Grace... which is the only source of peace.

I would like to say that I graciously, maturely, handed it over. I wish I could. But that's just not true.
I continue to wrestle with my desire. I still really want this. I really do.
And I struggle to accept that I am better off without it.
But more than this thing... or any other, I want peace with my Heavenly Father.
So I choose to accept, with my mind, that God is doing in me whatever He needs to do to make me who He wants me to be.
He created me, so...  yeah.
And if this forced acceptance, this discipline if you will, gets me closer to being like Jesus - well -
that's the whole point... isn't it?

1. When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
   When sorrows like sea billows roll;
   Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say,
   It is well, it is well, with my soul.
2. Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,
   Let this blest assurance control,
   That Christ has regarded my helpless estate,
   And hath shed His own blood for my soul.
3. My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought!
   My sin, not in part but the whole,
   Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more,
   Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!

 H.G. Spafford

Merely Human?

I am a "people" person.
I love to talk to people.
OK, apparently I love to talk... period... but especially to people.
My dream job would be to have opportunity to sit and talk to people... and listen to their stories.
(I know... hence the word "dream")

Over the years I have talked to a lot of people.
My family will agree with the notion that I know no strangers.
Along the way I have discovered that everyone has a story.

No, really. Everyone.

Some are fascinating, some are horrific and some are kinda "normal". 

But we all have one and it is uniquely ours.

I came across this C.S. Lewis quote in a book I was reading:
"There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal."
I agree.
But I've been thinking...

Sure I am friendly and talkative, most of the time.
But what is my motivation?
Why am I talking to some and not others?
Do I make a beeline to the obviously-interesting-good looking-I'll bet they will like me- people?
Or maybe the -I think they can do something for me-people?
Or the -I already know them-this will be comfortable-people?
How many people, and their stories, have I passed on my way to "better", more enjoyable prospects?
Frankly I am not sure I like where this is going.

"For You formed my inward parts; You knitted me together in my mother's womb.
I praise You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made." Psalm 139:13-14a


Yes, I believe that God has created every person, knowing them before they were even born; actively putting them together... just they way He desired. Making each person special and unique.
Not ordinary.
But am I living like I believe that?
Or do I, in fact, view some as "merely" (nothing more or no better than) human?
I am convicted by this. 
Faces of people who I could have, should have spoken to, smiled at, cared about are kinda running through my head.
Often I have selfishly, even deliberately, ignored an opportunity to extend myself, to affect someone else in a positive, loving way. Hurrying by, averting my glance... too busy (or important). Really.
This most surely is not "What would Jesus do?" material.


Years ago I was standing in line at a local restaurant with my small children.  An older, disheveled, smelly man entered our line. Almost immediately, I drew my children closer to me, slightly turning away from him. And just as I did, God's Spirit spoke to my heart..."I died for people like him." 
Yeah. 
Those words echoed in the emptiness of my prideful heart.


I'll bet that man had a story. 
I have no idea what it is.
I didn't care enough about him to even make eye contact. 

Let go

Lately my grandson Leeland has become somewhat mobile.
I have been enjoying pictures of him making his way across the room... chewing cords, trying to eat out of the dog dish... all that fun stuff.
Soon he will crawl and then walk... and his mom will experience one of her first "letting go" moments.

This fall Ayla put on her backpack and name tag and twirled her way up the steps of a big yellow bus.... for the first time... leaving her mom behind, empty handed, waving "goodbye" through a blur of tears.
Yup. Letting go is tough.

I love being a mom and everything that goes with it...
The sweetness of babies
All the "firsts"
Helping, guiding as they learn, grow... become
Cooking favorite meals
Bending the rules ( we have a few)
Sharing laughter, tears and secrets
Being the "one" they want when they are sick, lonely or heart broken
Finally crossing the border between parent & friend... (maybe my favorite)

Of course there were lots of sad, hard, frustrating and disappointing things along the way.
My heart has gotten a work out... that's for sure.

But... I love it.

Multiplied by six.

I know a bit about letting go.

So far I have had the privilege of watching three of my children mature to the place where our once shared path, diverged ( think Robert Frost ), and they were walking alone.

And as I stand on the edge of another departure, it is bittersweet. And palpable. 

I wonder at God's design... giving us precious babies, allowing us permanent, temporary custody of His children, and once we accomplish our part of His purpose for them, He leads them away...

To a school ridiculously far away... or seemingly so.

Or to a strange, new country half way around the world... to teach English, to share Him, protect our country, or save the world

Or into a relationship that is good, and right, and godly... but leaves us on the periphery, trying to jostle ourselves into our mysterious new position...

After all the years of providing opportunities for their well being... physical, emotional and spiritual...

we are done. 

Well, not completely.

But our job is diminished. 

It's time to open our hands, and let go.

Enter the bittersweet.

During our infamous summer of 1998, one of the many lessons I learned was that my children, are not mine at all.

While my relationship with them is vital to their well being, they don't really need me. 

They need Jesus.
God will do what He wills in their lives and in mine to get them right where He wants them to be.

With me, in spite of me, around me...

While I will always love and be loved by them, our closeness... physically & emotionally, is temporary. 

Most likely, one day they will meet and marry someone who they will unite with in a way that supersedes their relationship with me. 

And that's the way it should be.

  

So I am thinking that my relationship with God is a pattern for parenting...
nurturing, disciplining, loving.
But while my time here, on earth, is necessary and right, it is only temporary.
And while the people I love, experiences that I have had are all real and important,
one day, I will be united with Him in a way that is far superior to anything I have known.
And, when He returns to take me Home,
 I will open my hand,
empty it of all I hold so tightly
and happily let go.

Meanwhile... I will savor the bitter, along with the sweet.

Reaction

No one needs to be told that life is hard.
It is.
And we all know it.
Right now I have friends and family that are facing hard things...
marriage troubles, teenager troubles, health issues, leaving jobs, finding jobs, empty nests, selling homes... (sigh)
All hard.

The other day my sweet daughter-in-law (I still kind of marvel at how she found her way into our family) sent me some words of encouragement.
One of those thoughts had to do with how we react to the things that God brings into our lives, and how important that is to our Christian testimony, and, I might add, our relationship with Jesus.

Watching the pictures from Japan through my tears I was struck with the dignity and resolute demeanor of the Japanese people.
They are grieving and mourning and all that I would likewise do, but there is a calm, peaceable acceptance.
I don't know how many of them know my Saviour, I hope they do and that He is indeed the source of their quiet strength.

How would I react to that?
Quite frankly I don't think that my reaction would be "dignified".
You read my blog, I do a lot of whining, complaining...I can be a baby. I know.

I have never had a 30 ft. wall of water wash my town off the map,
Or picked through the debris of a tornado,
Or lost a close family member,
Or had a Doctor tell me to get my affairs in order,
Or watched my home burn to the ground... like my neighbor, who stood in the road watching as her home was reduced to a pile of wet, black, smoking embers and finally, quietly said: "The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh; blessed be the name of the Lord." Really.

Luke 9:51 tells me that my Saviour resolved to walk right into the place where he would eventually be unfairly tried... and crucified. Wow.
And God's Word teaches me that Jesus-likeness is my goal, His life my pattern, His choices, mine.

How I respond does matter.
I must turn my face toward the things that come into my life and choose to trust in God and His goodness to carry me, with grace and peace and humility.
To calmly endure uncertainty; to leave my fears at His feet and fill my mind with His Word.
To grieve and mourn with hope and to begin again believing that God is good and His purposes will prevail.

And to rest in the peace that passes all understanding.
Yeah, that is all hard too.
But I choose to endeavor to live modeling "What would Jesus do?"
And God will do the rest.

My reaction:  Gratitude.

Not Feeling It

What a week.
Lots of family, non-stop activity, a little adventure, lots of laughter ~
("For I dearly love to laugh...").
A few disappointments and a tear or two.
Not crushing, weighty, total joy-stealing disappointment.
But unsettling, questioning, "Did I miss something?" disappointment.
Like when you were sure you were next...but then the kid beside you got picked. Yeah. That.

While I can begin to see the good that may be coming,
hope has been damaged and the questions continue to arise.
Thoughts centered around "Why?" and "What now?"
I know better. But it's kind of my default setting.
So I have been tussling a bit with God over what I want and what He appears to "not" be doing.
And, yeah, He is winning.
Actually, I'm kinda getting my butt kicked.

His Word reminds me that He is truth, and peace, and love.
And the array of my experiences attest to the reality of  my relationship with Him.
He is good...no matter how I feel.
Let me say that again: it does not  matter what I am feeling.
No. Really. Because while feelings are real , they are not always true,
and they certainly don't indicate God's goodness.
Or purpose.

Job 42:2 
"I know that Thou canst do all things, And that no purpose of Thine can be thwarted."

I can know, I do know...or at least I want to know, that God can do all things. Even the things that I want Him to do. He can do them all. And no intent, purpose or plan of His can be thwarted.... impossible.
Yeah,  It can't happen.

So how do I meld this dichotomy between what I know and how I feel?
What I want and what God seems to be doing?
Well, I can tell you it isn't by trying to have it out with Him.
And trying to reason my way through this will only take me so far.

Yup, once again I run smack into: "What do I believe about God?"
And, thanks to Job, I know that how I answer that question is the only "answer" that will bring me peace.
Job 42:3
..."Therefore I have declared that which I did not understand, Things too wonderful for me, which I did not know."

I'm weary now of striving.
So, I will attempt to set aside my doubt and discontent and discomfort.
I will choose to believe that God is able, worthy of my trust and that He loves me. 
And I will rest. Right there.

Not home.

My house is for sale.
We signed papers, they took pictures, measured rooms, put a sign in the yard...
soon my house will be on the internet for all to see.
Yeah.
And I don't like it.

I get that in order to move on, to wherever, we need to sell the house.
But this isn't just a "house".
This has been our home for nearly 20 years.
(Seriously, I weep as I type...which is kinda hard to do...just sayin')

Photographs serve as reminders of all that has passed through this place:
picnics, parties, people...lots and lots of people.
But pictures cannot tell the full story of the dreams, efforts, arguments, drama, milestones, laughter and love that gathered in these walls, circled around campfires, danced like fireflies in the fields.
And it is all still here.
I can feel it.
Lingering in newly painted rooms, caught in the fragrance of apple blossoms, carried in the constant breeze.
I have spent the "prime" years of my life here; caring for family, growing flowers, baking cookies,taking pictures, running miles & miles, writing, reading, enjoying my family, my friends, my life...my house.
This house was a gift from My Heavenly Father and I have happily, joyfully, thankfully, loved it
At one time, all  8 of us called this place home...and shared one bathroom.
Now, 3 bathrooms later, it is time to move on.

And it is going to be all right.
'Cause, actually, this is just a house.
God will most likely give it some one else, if He pleases to.
And, should He desire, He will give me another.
And soon it will be filled with people that I love, things that I enjoy (hopefully big enough for all my books), and eventually, it will feel more like home.
But not really "home".
My place is with My Father in heaven.
And Jesus, my Savior, is  building me a house, not too far from His.
One of these days, He is coming to take me to it.
And then, finally... I will be home.

"Do not let your heart be troubled; believe in God, believe also in Me. 

"In My Father’s house are many dwelling places; if it were not so, I would have told you; for I go to prepare a place for you. 

"If I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and receive you to Myself, that where I am, there you may be also."  ~ John. 14:1-3

Maranatha!

Weary

Weary:  Having one's interest( A state of curiosity or concern about or attention to something), forbearance( To be tolerant or patient in the face of provocation), or indulgence( To yield to the desires and whims of) worn out.
Yup...I am feeling that.
Interest is wearing out and certainly indulgence. And in order to forbear, I think I need both of those.

I've noticed that I run a lot of thoughts through my head that are not necessarily true, but strangely comforting.
My current favorite goes something like " I can not do this anymore..." in a high-pitched, whiny voice usually accompanied by a few tears.
Yeah...kinda pathetic, I know.
And quite frankly, I accomplish nothing with this, beyond a few used up tissues.

Recently, while working on a new Bible study, I discovered that the root of such a lament is actually pride. Now, perhaps for you that is a "duh" kind of moment. Not so for me.
Actually I was kinda offended. Really.
How dare this author put that so boldly into print?
I mean, no one knows what my life is like; no one else has to endure what I do. Um...right?

Pride: a high or inordinate opinion of one's own dignity, importance, merit, or superiority, whether as cherished in the mind or as displayed in bearing or conduct.
OK...wow. That is not me. 
I don't walk around acting all superior and important, demanding and declaring and expecting to be served.
Wait. 
Ok, maybe a little. But only because...um...I...um...well, I think, that  I might actually...think it's true.
(yikes)

It's not really a conscious thing. It's kind of a learned response that has become ingrained and it is part of my very nature.
My sin nature.
And it's always hanging around.
It's there when I position myself to get the best seat at the concert, or movie, or church service.  Or when I maneuver things and people so that my child gets the best advantage, the first spot in line, recognition.  
It's there when I am sure that I deserve the best piece of cake, or the cheapest price on the shoes, or that parking spot, or the last "one"... readily defending  and arguing to get my way...'cause my way is right and best and should not be ignored.
And it is there when I politely brag, openly gossip, secretly covet, or refuse to trust God.  

So, yes my pride is intact...and that's not good.
And I wonder if my cries out to God ever rub Him the wrong way. 
After all, I am exactly where He wants me to be...what's with the whining?
Don't I believe that He is good...all the time? 
Don't I trust that His perfect will will be worked out in my life, in His time, for His good pleasure?
Apparently...not.
That is the very essence of pride. 
  
I am weary.
And, yes, life is hard and my life might even be harder than yours.
But demanding that it be different (whining), thinking I have a better way (complaining) may come naturally, but that's the "old me". 
And it needs to die.
  
So I need to focus my interest, anew, again,  on Kingdom things.....not all these temporary distractions.
Indulge the needs of the people that God has placed in my life, while setting my own beside, or even better, behind me. 
And then perhaps the forbearing will be easier, flow more naturally, bless more people, change my heart.


God is good. All the time. 
And I believe it.  ; )