Life Stopped

There are presents sitting under trees that will not be opened. Gifts that were planned to be bought will now be left in the store. The receiver was snatched away and the givers are left too plan funerals instead of Christmas parties.

I sat reading news stories and staring at pictures telling the tale of the unspeakable horror that happened yesterday morning. I was simply aghast at what had happened. A few terrifying minutes was all it took before lives were turned upside down forever.

Families of the 26 victims have had life put on hold. Christmas shopping, parties, events...all that has ceased to be important. Their top goal has now become survival in the sea of pain and grief.

There are the children that survived carried away from that day in the arms of parents who did not want to let them go. Children who may have came away unscathed physically, but for the rest of their lives will not be able to forget all they saw and heard that day. The fear they felt as they huddled in dark corners and as their little ears heard terrible screams and piercing gunshots.

There are the police officers that combed the school for evidence and were forced to stare at the gruesome scene. Police officers that helped hysteric parents.
  Men and women who somehow managed to push words off their tongue to deliver the news of death. Men and women who will go home to their worlds intact, but will not feel intact mentally.

Tonight it is 10 days before Christmas. The day we celebrate the arrival of hope. 2,000 years ago when that tiny baby was born to a world oppressed by Romans hope sprang forth. Torture and death was rampant. Sin was rampant. Christ came to that world.

Yesterday was a cruel reminder of the curse of sin. Unfortunately we will live under that curse of sin till Christ returns. Hope. Can there be a tiny glimmer of hope in the midst of such repulsive sin? God has promised comfort, peace, joy, and love. God has promised a Savior. Yes there is hope for a broken and hurting world.

Everything in me aches right now for those who had to suffer in so many different ways. Pain is not right and the only hope I have is of a Savior who will rescue us from all this pain some day.

Of Cozyness

"worshiping the alter of cozy"

I read this on a another blog in the comment section. I was guilty. Here is my little life and I think I'm not asking for much. All I want is for things to stay the same. For people to stay the same and not move on in life. To be able to keep on having fun as I always have. I want to be able to do those little things scream coziness and happiness. I want to stay up late on Christmas Eve and drink eggnog with my brothers laughing the night away. I want my friends to be close and for us get along with each other in a strangely hilarious way.

Small things that make up my comfort zone. Tradition. Happiness. Normal Life. Epic Adventures.

In my mind I decided how things are to be and its a glorious plan. Until someone has to move, get married, gets sick, etc, etc. Then I wonder why those things were taken away from me. I didn't ask for much. Happiness comes to another, but in a strange way I find myself not wanting to welcome it because it means change. Life seems to only be beautiful when those small things are all in order.

Life can be beautiful when the small things are removed and you realize its time to broaden your perspective and try something new.

This Christmas will be different. Every Christmas is different after all. Maybe I won't have all those things around me that make me cozy and happy, but really how much coziness was there in a drafty smelly stable?

Christ came and gave up everything for us to live. Really is it much  to give up the small normality's of life?

Change is coming. No day happens without change. Can a day happen though without worshiping that "alter of cozy"?

Sometimes I wonder about myself and strange happy routines of life. They give me energy to get through the day. Can I go through a day without dependance on pleasure?

    Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.
  
(James 1:2-4 ESV)

 

And that my friends is the essence of joy. Only by the grace of God may I have that joy. 

Musing of the Brain

I'm staring at the screen wondering what to write. I don't have thoughts pouring from my brain begging to be written down. Maybe its because its just a nice day and I've been smiling and laughing a lot lately.

Strangely I think the deepest thoughts come from a heart that is troubled and its trying to sort its self out. Then I write freely letting my wanderings flow out and hope no one minds reading the thoughts of a girl who is not having a very good day.

Sometimes I feel dependant on the days that are good. They give me the power to laugh and go through life with a smile. As much as I am grateful for the days I can laugh I feel it is necessary to not be tied to them. Unfortunately your hilarious friends and family will not always be readily available and sometimes it just will not be funny when you spill flour all over the kitchen.

Sometimes you have to be alone and face the fact that you are having a not so lovely day and no one is around to distract you from it.

And in the words of another "what is the first thing you will use to fix that bad day"? Chocolate, a good book perhaps, maybe a good TV show, your favorite exercise maybe?

Everyone needs to know what will help them relax and get them away from the edge of the pit of despair.

Just maybe though would it not be wise to first reach for the Word of God and refresh yourself in a time of reading and prayer before reaching for your smart phone to see how all your Facebook friends are doing? Oops did I just say facebook I meant to say the uh phone book because I don't want this post to be too much like a pointed finger...at myself.

I drink up those times of laughter and wish I could put them in a bottle to have whenever I wish, but I can read my Bible whenever I wish. I wonder though if I read it often as I should instead digging through those chocolates...

Just some random thoughts prompted by times with my silly friends and deep times with my small group at church.

Of Christmas

Christmas time is here. I always anticipate the holiday with much joy and excitement. Everything about it always seems to hold so much pleasure and delight.

That is one part of me. The other part of me approaches the holiday with sorrow and hurt for those who are hurting. Christmas seems to be either the most wonderful holiday or the worst day that ever existed for so many.

I'm not a scrooge. I love Christmas, but it seems so unfair to celebrate what is happy in your life and ignore the pain in someone Else's life.

Two years ago I got a tiny taste of that pain. I felt anything, but happy as I cried through a Christmas movie one evening in December. Just hours earlier my uncle had gone home for Christmas. We rejoiced and mourned in a crazy mix of emotions. I skipped out on school not to go home and celebrate Christmas earlier, but to go to  a funeral. All during the Christmas break the death of another relative was fast approaching and that year it was hard to celebrate.

I got that tiny taste of the pain. Just a small taste. Not a big gulp of bitterness and heart wrenching sobs that so many go through. Christmas is a beautiful time, but it can so easily be ugly.

Christmas is a lot about feeling. Happy fuzzy feelings that come from hearing Christmas tunes on the radio. Sappy feelings from watching all those horribly cheesy but oh so fun Christmas flicks. Feelings of warmth from seeing the Christmas lights twinkle on the tree. Feelings of tradition when you eat your favorite Christmas treat. Feelings are wonderful, but there are those who have the feeling of not even wanting to go the store for fear of seeing one more Christmas item that will remind them of pain. They will not feel like getting out of bed. Maybe the only reason they will put on the tree is for the sake of small children, not for the sake of the their own feels that are all too dismal.

We celebrate Christmas by giving and so what is it we can give to the hurting? Maybe its not saying anything, but simply being there. Maybe its only a quiet act of kindness, but there are some things that can change a whole person's day just because you did something.

Celebrate Christmas, but remember what it is and why it sometimes bothers people.

Source: google.com.eg via Crystal Paine {MoneySavingMom.com} on Pinterest

Its going to be Okay

I don't pretend to know everything about music and all of its conservatories, but I know that I do like music and when "Brand New Day" played on my Pandora I fell in love. I don't even listen to must of the lyrics, but the chorus...sometimes it feels like its the theme of my day. 

"This cycle never endsYou gotta fall in order to mend
And it's a brand new dayIt's a brand new dayFor the first time In such a long long timeI knowI'll be ok"

I will not pretend that life has been all grand and wonderful. I will not pretend that I have handled every situation perfectly. I will not pretend that I jump out of bed feeling eager to face the day. I will not pretend that I am the perfect worker, friend, daughter, sister, etc etc....

because there is no pretending in God's eyes. 

He knows all of my faults. He knows why I cry myself to sleep, because of the pain I've caused myself. He knows the words I don't say, but think just the same...and shouldn't it. He knows when I have the wrong motives and wrong desires. 

There is no pretending. He knows that I'm not okay and that I should have known better, but He still gives grace.

Grace that turns not being okay into being okay. Grace that overlooks the bad day and gives you the strength to move onto a fresh new day. Because of God's grace I know those not okay times are for a reason and some day it will be okay.

Source: southernpiphi.tumblr.com via Betannie on Pinterest

Thanksgiving Past

I do believe I'm always going to remember this past Thanksgiving. I can't help it really because there will probably be a nice little scar on my middle finger to stir my memory. My poor little finger met up with the side of the oven when I was checking the turkey. I guess a small burn is minor compared to the fact that the turkey had to lose its head for us to eat him for dinner. Still I would have been just as happy to reflect upon the turkey while it digested comfortably in my stomach without having to feel the pain on my finger.

A cook though I guess must have battle scars to show that she/he is a valiant warrior in the kitchen.  Scars and wounds I think used to be a sign of fierceness and valor. Probably for a cook they are just a sign of clumsiness. Sometimes I wonder if I'm allergic to knives, because we never seem to get along very well and I'm often having to fetch the band aids.

You know I wouldn't mind being a very fancy chef who had someone who would do all the chopping. Then it would magically appear on the cutting board as if the onions and peppers had grown in the garden perfectly chopped. Then of course the chicken underneath its feathers would also have to be cut into perfectly sliced chicken strips,but maybe that is going a little far.

 Well life must be tough sometimes I suppose and a few little cuts never hurt a person...well unto they got infected and they had to lose their fingers, but that never happens in these days of modern medicine. I hope.

A word of advice, don't cook like me. Its far too dangerous and painfully amusing. 

After Thanksgiving

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Well the holiday has come and gone. Part of me is sad and the other part me is happy because that makes Christmas all the closer which means seeing my adorable nephew and such. This thanksgiving i didn't watch football . I didn't go Black Friday shopping till 11 am. I didn't eat stuffing. I didn't see see any of my family for they were miles away ... This thanksgiving I was very blessed in so many ways. Blessed to have a God to teaches and blessed to still be blessed 2 days After the holiday . It was a good day and I'm thankful to be able to be thankful all year long.

The List

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving Eve and my personal belief is that the eve of a holiday filled with its anticipation and excitement holds just as much wonderfulness as the actual holiday.

Thanksgiving is wonderful time because you can write endless blog posts on thankfulness and its vogue :)

Every day is beautiful. Every day there is something to be thankful for. I find that easier to say  some days then others. Sometimes I breath the words with a heart over flowing with happiness and gratitude. Sometimes the words come out through clenched teeth and a heart that wants to be selfish.

Oh ungrateful person that I am!

In reality its almost embarrassing for me to count my blessings.

There is health, yes there has been the seemingly perpetual cold and a unpleasant case of the stomach flu, but all my limbs are still intact and my life is not ruled by doctor visits.

Wealth...true there isn't a lot be said about my life style, but all of my needs are met. Food, clothes, shelter, hygiene products and even the occasional Starbucks latte. I have never gone hungry because lack of money.

Church, I go to church and its a wonderful church. Not a perfect church...for there is not a perfect church anywhere, but I can fellowship and pour over the Word of God with fellow believers and my soul is fed.

Friends, No they are not always available to me when I feel they should be (that is just me being selfish though), but I have friends who will laugh with me and talk with me and tell me its going to be okay.

This is the embarrassment of riches that I have and so many do not, yet all of those could be wiped away from me and I would still be a very rich girl.

I would still have Christ.

    In him we have obtained an inheritance, having been predestined according to the purpose of him who works all things according to the counsel of his will, so that we who were the first to hope in Christ might be to the praise of his glory. In him you also, when you heard the word of truth, the gospel of your salvation, and believed in him, were sealed with the promised Holy Spirit, who is the guarantee of our inheritance until we acquire possession of it, to the praise of his glory.
   
(Ephesians 1:11-14 )

If all I had left was Chris I would have everything I would ever need. 

"Hallelujah! All I have is Christ
Hallelujah! Jesus is my life" ---Sovereign Grace Music

Thanksgiving and Veterns Day

One week ago we remembered the Vets and this week we are to remember Thanksgiving. The two holidays are not separate from each other I think. For so many families they are very much entwined with memories and longings. Thanksgiving is a wonderful day unless your loved one is half way around the world serving thier country instead of serving up carved turkey.

War has stolen the place settings from tables of families all over the country.  I don't know what it feels like to know your loved one is far away working in a dangerous place. I don't know what it is like to not really know what they are doing. I don't know what its like to always be trying to push the "what ifs" out of the back of your mind. I don't know what is like to have to trust God to take care of that loved one.

I don't know, but that doesn't mean I don't hurt and wonder. I watch others send off their sons, husbands, brothers, and friends. I see the pain and tears and I queitly wipe away my own tears, but I don't really know the pain they are feeling.

Christ knows. He knows the nights filled with lonely tears of the wife. He knows a mother's heart and a father's love. He knows the children who ache for their father. He knows how desperately hard it is too just live when a big piece of your life is missing.

    For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin. Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.
(Hebrews 4:15-16)

 This Thanksgiving as you play football (or just simply watch football if you've eaten too much turkey), eat your dinner with family and friends, and spend some time giving thanks stop and pray for the ones here in this country without a loved one. Pray for the ones far away serving and do whatever you can to be an encouragment.

I do not know, but I will pray.

Great Things. E is for...

End

All good things must come to a end my mother always told me. Sometimes though the bad things finally do come to a end and you aren't sorry to see them go. I'm thankful of course for the way God uses things in our lives, but I'm grateful that He will bring a end to the storm and cover the sky a rainbow.

Days that feel blissfully normal because the hard times have had a end are wonderful. I do not know how to cherish the normal until it has been taken away from me. 

Things end and you don't want them too, because they were just too wonderful. If things were wonderful all the time though would we really know how to be thankful for wonderful. Does wonderful perhaps have to end, so we can know what we really have?

There are two kinds of end. One I'm happy to see and one I would rather not see, but I'm thankful for them both.

Great Things: Scripture

There were the verse I turned too over and over again. Some verses I unexpectedly found, because they were part of my devotional reading for the day. I cling to God Word's, but yet not often enough to make my Bible fall apart.

    Not that I have already obtained this or am already perfect, but I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own. Brothers, I do not consider that I have made it my own. But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus. Let those of us who are mature think this way, and if in anything you think otherwise, God will reveal that also to you. Only let us hold true to what we have attained.
(Philippians 3:12-16 )

 

It was the very last sermon I heard before I left my home church for my last few months of my senior year, but I carried that scripture with me for the rest of the year.

 

There is no way to describe how thankful I am that what lies behind me does not shape my standing with God. I can have a reason to get up on those tired mornings. There is a reason to smile and to just do something because this life is not simply meaningless, but we can look to the goal. One purpose. One reason. Growing in Christ. Serving Christ. I need to be reminded of that...every day. 

 

Written for Great Things. 

Great Things: R is for...

Rage

I'm thankful that God lets the storm rage around me.

"Sometimes God lets the storm rage but calms his Child"

There are the times I want to call it quits. Say I'm through learning this lesson and that I simply can't handle the turmoil anymore. I'm thankful though that God brings me to His word and shows me comfort and truth. He makes me realize that I need this storm. I need to grow. Maybe its a tiny rain storm or a roaring hurricane, but each storm is a gift from God. Aches and pains are just part of the process of the Potter molding the clay.

I do not ask for storms, but I do want to see them as a gift when them come. Sometimes the rain blinds me and all I hear is the thunder and I do not let my soul be quieted by God alone. Instead I seek temporary fixes until I'm near drowning and only the mercies of God pull me up.

How has God taught you a lesson this year through a raging storm?

Written for Great Things.

Great Things: Moments and Memories

Moments and Memories.

This year was the one with the wow moments, the I can't believe this is happening moments and there was the moments that I wished weren't happening. All through it all God was more then faithful.

1. New Job. Just a few days into the year and on the very first day of my last semester at college, my heart nearly stopped beating in the president's office. Did I have plans for after grad he asked and I told him nothing had been set. I was asked to stay and work for the school and also minister there. I was astounded and knew the only reason I had been asked was because of God's grace. Really I was the most unlikely person in the world to do what I'm doing now. Several months later I found myself continuing my education, by finding out what ministry was really like. Some things I wish I didn't have to learn, but those are the things God is using the most.

2. That day. The one where into my nervous sweaty palms was placed a certificate of completion of school. We stood in a straight line across the stage, and we sang "Praise God from Whom all blessings flow". I could hardly sing at all. I was in awe of the glorious grace that had graduated us all from school. When I look back on that day though it sometimes makes me want to cry. Oh it was a wonderful day, but it was the day where the precious season of me being student came to a close. I did not fathom then how much life would change and how I would sometimes long for the old days back.

3. Opened Eyes. The boarder guard handing us back our passports and we were officially in Canada land. Two weeks later we crossed back into the USA. I was exhausted physically and mentally, but encouraged spiritually. The eyes of the children we interacted with are seared into my memory. My eyes were opened to a mission field I knew little of before. I had new compassion for the missionaries there and understanding of the stamina it takes to work there.

4. Family. From around the world my big happy and ice cream loving family gathered for a few days. Cousins played together and the aunts and uncles shared stories and even though many of us hardly see each other we fellowshiped over the common bond of simply being family. Looking at our family I am so humble of what I can call me heritage. It seems rare to say you come from a family who has always sought after the Truth. A family who when together who will always get along with the help of lots of ice cream and cookie.

Those are just a few of the memories. Some of the moments happened deep in my heart where no one could see, but God alone as He taught me His faithfulness. Each day God gave this year has been a beautiful one...some of them have no been pretty at first sight, but more of pain. Looking back though I can now see "the pretty and the pain".

Written for Great Things 2012

Great Things 2012

This month is one of the most wonderful times of the year. Pardon me for saying that, I do know the phrase is supposed to be reserved for Christmas, but taking some extra time to count your blessings I think makes a very wonderful time of year. During the next days I'll be sharing with you my Great Things from this past year. Last year as you may recall I did the same thing and I'm so thankful for the blog Beautiful Song that is hosting this link up.

I would love to hear about your Great Things as well. All the details of how you can participate are explained here. 

You can find the links for them on this page...which people in the tech world call a landing page.  Thanks for tagging along on my little journey of the big and little things of my life from this past year. 

Day One: Moments and Memories


Day Two: R is for...

Day Three: Scripture

Day Three again:  E is for...

Held

This week we had an election which helps me remember that this week is also my dad's birthday because you see poor dad often had to share his birthday party with an election party. Still I quite forgot that today was the big day, because I'm sorry dad, but I've never good with remembering dates.

I don't remember the first time my dad held me. It was in a hospital room in the wee hours of the morning and dad had just watched his last child come into the world.

I remember the many other times dad held me though.

He held me on his lap. Probably to make his silly little girl sit still, but I felt safe and loved perched on dad's knee. When I was too big to sit on dad's lap I would lean on his shoulder, because it felt safe and good.

When I was a teenager and in the chaos of emotional storms dad would hug me and told me he loved me.

And then one day dad helped me carry my earthly belongings into a empty dorm room. Dad hugged me good bye and then I was alone in an big parking lot knowing that dad left me there because he loved me.

Three very long and very short years later I was hugging  a lot of people (some I didn't even know!) as I stood in the receiving line at my graduation. And then dad was there. Holding me tight and everything around us seemed to stop.

When dad held me his touch said more then words ever could. I knew I was loved. I knew that I would always be daddy's girl. I knew that there was no need to perform for love...it was given to me freely. Dad was showing me the love of Christ. No matter what I did my father would always love me, because he saw no the faults in me, but instead his little girl.

My father gave me a gift that is more valuable to me then words or riches. His love.

Happy Birthday Dad. And yes your card is coming, but well maybe you can just read this while you wait for it.

Roots

I wonder where those thoughts came from, a horrible mess of thoughts that would shame me if anyone knew them. How did they simply sprout into my mind without warning?

I had a warning. Deep inside my heart long ago roots of sinfulness had began to grow. Sometimes I saw them so I would tend to them with confession to God.

Sin though is like a bind weed. Its roots go so far down that if not treated properly the roots soon take over your whole life.

The sin is fun and seemingly delightful. I don't care about the roots it has taken and let them flourish and then I am degusted at myself. Realizing I'm a vile sinner with no good in me at all.

 Sin did not suddenly appear in my life...I let the roots grow. How much more pleasent would life simply be if the roots of sin were squelched quickly before the damage in my life began to damage the lives of others?

I think I need to go do some root pulling in my heart and seek the forgiveness of God and restoration.

Cooking...its what I do

I am cook. It's not just something I do randomly when I want to. Right now I have to cook every single day or people will go hungry. Not to make that sound like I'm irreplaceable because just the other day I was suddenly trapped in bed when my stomach decided that it wanted to empty it self out and well everyone was still fed by a marvelous cook.

It's not just my hobby. It's my job, but I prefer more to think of it as my hobby rather then my job. Because in hobbies you try new things and do things randomly just for the joy of it.

I might have confessed before I have a problem of not following recipes. You know its much more adventurous to season things yourself. Problem is sometimes it takes several tasting until you find the right combination and then when you do serve the meal you find yourself not eating because your not hungry anymore. This of course does not of course look very good if the cook doesn't partake of her own cooking. If only they knew I had all the terrible bites just so they could taste some deliciousness.

Sacrifice I know.

The other problem with cooking "as you go" is that sometimes people ask for recipes and you have to give them the non existent recipes. You can try telling them to dump in various amounts of seasonings that smell right, but those who are OCD may not appreciate a such free approach to cooking.

Well though can people really complain if the food is editable? Unfortunately sometimes all the food is editable because sometimes random cooking just doesn't always work. Bland is sometimes better then big and bold. Sometimes it is just better to let people pepper their own food instead of adding it for them. Not everyone appreciates a good cleaning out of the sinuses.

Unfortunately at the risk of everyone's stomachs I keep cooking and I keep getting bored in the kitchen and the cycle of experimenting and randomness will probably never stop...

until I get so old that I forget what I have put in and then I will probably have to eat the whole pot of soup in tastings before I figure out what has gone in and what hasn't...

peace be Still

Dusk is falling too fast, but not fast enough to shut out the breath taking sunset that spreads across the sky.

It's changed from the pink and orange that it was to the dark gray and blue against the last remaining light of the day. I want to take pictures, but its too late for my little camera to capture the beauty. Instead I just sit and take in the display of colors. The air is coated with silence and I find myself thinking deep wondering thoughts.

Everything is lovely and I want to push the pause button and just relish this little piece of life.

Interrupting the silence though is a siren. Piercing the night air with an eerie noise that signals that somewhere something has gone wrong for somebody on this lovely night.

I find the contrast quickly. I sit there looking at the  beauty God has created, while at the same time listening to the very opposite of beauty...the pain life interrupted by unpleasantness.

There I sit in the calm of a balmy fall evening while thousands of miles away people are preparing to bed for the night in a room filled with hundreds of other people who have fled the storm. No quietness surrounds them, even in their minds they wonder what will be left after the storm has finished with their homes and livelihood.

I'm watching the sunset and everything seems so lovely.

Wind is shrieking and ran is coming down too fast. Lights have gone out and there is nothing to do, but let the storm rage.

"peace be still"

Sometimes there is no outward way to calm our surroundings, but inwardly we can find the strength and peace of God.  Peace sometimes is not the halting of problems, it is resting in the strength of the Lord.

Of Casting Votes

I usually write what's on my mind, but this time I think I should refrain.

Today I filled out my ballot if that gives you any clue whats on my mind. With black ink I filled in the circles and then held my breath realizing I just took a part in changing history. Really though its one vote and the fate of our country is not going to rest on one vote.

No the fate of our country is resting in the hands of the Lord.

Four years ago I was barely old enough to vote and I well remember getting up in the middle of the night to check the election results.

I trusted in my vote.

I didn't trust in the Lord.


Four years later I vote again. And I ask myself what am I to lay my trust in?

I believe the biggest impact I can make right now is on my knees. Interceding before a God who knows more about what we need as leaders then any professional politician.

I've already said too much for someone who promised not to state their mind. I have no words on whom should be voted for or on using the right to vote. Well I do have thoughts, but I'm not turning them into words, just because I think other people could do it better than I and this isn't that type of blog.

End of story:)

Voice

Sometimes I can't find my voice. People ask how I am and I want to tell them it hasn't been the best of times and I'm fighting just to keep the normal, but I my voice chokes and I say I'm fine.

 So they smile and nod and say good and I want to fling myself upon them begging for them to listen, but my voice won't let me.

You go to church and sit in the pew. All around you sit people and afterwards you get up to talk to them and they say everything is fine.

Are they really using their real voice? Or are the words that are choked out faked to show a false security?

Everyone has a voice, but more often then not they aren't using it. Their using the fake voice to show the world that everything is just fine. Too often we fall for the trap. We believe everything is fine and go on in our merry way ignoring the problem.

Look for the hidden voices. The ones that need to be heard and listened too.The voices that are weary and need to be rested in the Lord.

Are you listening?

 

Just do it Already

The other day I was reading the writings of my first years of a blogger. Some were amusing, some were down right terrible and frankly most of them had a writing style that just sounded ordinary and like most everyone elses writing style. Not that everyone else's writing style is wrong, but it is wrong to be like everyone else.

I'm a writer. I'm also person unlike any other person in the world. True I've met the people who do strange quirky things in their brain and have a sense of humor remarkable like mine, but still these people are not exactly like me. Which of course is a very good thing because the world can only handle one "me".

It's time to write more which means I will be writing about whatever is on my brain. Perhaps it will make you think. I hope it will make you laugh at loud and above all that my writing will glorify God.

All that aside here comes today's post.

Wind is blowing hard outside me window and my feet are like ice that of course is my own fault for not wearing socks, but in my limited knowledge of fashion ankle socks and skirts really don't go together.

Today I have e-mailed my mother. And I have done....well lets see I have done pretty much nothing. Except for of course literally rising before dawn to feed the school breakfast.

Does it count that I've thought about doing lots of things? Really if all the things that were swimming around in my brain would have manifested themselves in real life I probably would look like a super woman right now.

Unfortunately while thinking is very good it accomplishes little unless acted upon, so there is little crossed off my to do list.

There in lays the problem. I didn't make a to do list for today. You know what they say "aim at nothing and you will accomplish just that" or something along those lines.

Right now I could insert a discourse on how to have a highly effective day, but I'm the wrong person to write on that subject.

Instead my advice to myself and whom ever else read this is...

"do the next thing".

Simply do it. If only for half an hour. Even if its the tiniest and maybe not very important task. Just do it, because personally I feel better if I have done something. For some people that some people maybe be simply rising out of bed and getting dressed, but at least you have done something.

Something Ideas

Text a Bible verse to someone
Write a note to someone
Clean off a surface
Fix your hair
Read your Bible
Make a to do list
Make someone their favorite cookies
Say Thank you

I realize that I just sounded like one of those motivational mom blogs, not that those are wrong, but I'm just not a mom so I really don't feel I should equate myself with the league of those who have far more on their plates then myself. Anyway all that to say that sometimes no matter the season of your life sometimes you me need the reminder to just do something.

My something is uh going to be eating lunch. Just being completely honest with you, but after that is 30 minutes of work on my photo book.

Small Group Musings

Its hard to count the number of times in my life I've been discontent. They have been all too numerous though. A longing for something to go away or for something to come, something to happen...anything but the experience I was going through.

In small group at church we have been talking about lots of very good stuff, but last night we talked about the sin of discontentment.

Yes I said sin.

Discontentment in my definition is being dissatisfied for who God is. Really when we want something to change we want God to be doing something different and even opposite of his character. We fail to see what God is doing in our lives through that situation.

There was the year where over and over my mom told me what was going on in my life was God preparing me for the road ahead, but I didn't want it.

I didn't want to watch my grandma die.

Every time I went to her room in our house I couldn't take a breath till I saw the rise and fall of grandma's chest. Then I was assured she was still with us. Sometimes I still get an odd feeling whenever I see someone sleeping soundly and I before I know it I'm checking to see if they are breathing.

During that year of watching grandma's health fail I was dissatisfied with God. I didn't see Him as good and thought if He indeed were good He would removed the situation. I didn't understand because God was good He was taking me through the trial to teach me His grace.

Some would say that I just a teenager should have been sheltered from the reality of aging and dying. Grandma should have stayed in care facility and we could have brought her flowers on the weekends and the nurse would tell us when something was wrong.

Those people are wrong. A few short months of my life. Sometimes awful painful days of learning to see the joy. Would it not been better if I could have simply been a happy carefree high school graduate?

No it would not have.  The lessons would never would have been learned. Who knows how even more painful life could have been if I had not simply worked out some crucial things about my view of God.

    And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose. For those whom he foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, in order that he might be the firstborn among many brothers. And those whom he predestined he also called, and those whom he called he also justified, and those whom he justified he also glorified.
   
(Romans 8:28-30 ESV)

Those words are the essence of why God does things in our lives we may not understand at the time.

"to be conformed to the image of his son"

I didn't understand it then, but I do now. God was good during that year of tears, unknown, fear, frustration, uncalled for anger, and hopelessness. 

He held His child close and would not let her escape His teaching. She balked and even sinned, but in the end it was the Father in His mercy who prevailed drying the tears with His comfort. The storm still raged, but the child knew the safety and care of her Father's arms.

My mom was right you know I can see now what God was doing and whenever now I feel like I can't see I just remind myself..."God works all things together for good".

Horrible and Wonderful Meet

Last night I lay in bed. The muscles of my back screamed with pain. All over I felt warmer then one normally should. I desired neither liquid or food, my stomach had earlier emptied everything stored in it.

Miserable. Absolutely miserable there was no other way to describe. The wish for blissful sleep that would not come and the hope that perhaps heaven was near. Well maybe it wasn't that bad...

Laying in bed feverish and nauseated I began to feel thankful because it had been a good day.

God was good. In my dire sickness I could say that because it was true.

My niece took a hefty spill and after showing alarming systems she ended up in the ER. CT scan came back clear and be evening she was her normal chatterbox self.

Just a few days ago we prayed for the heartbeat to remain steady as the newest member of our family made its entrance into the world. Safely into its mother's arms the baby arrived, but the trial wasn't over yet as mommy had a bit of trouble recovering. All is well now and the new happy family is progressing as all new families should.

That is why as I lay in bed virtually unable to do anything I could say the day was good. No I hadn't been able to do what I normally did, but others graciously filled my place.

I felt horrible, but the goodness of God was wonderful.

 It isn't often we are privileged to get a first hand glance on how good He is in just a few days time. Maybe it wouldn't have been better had the bad things would never had happened, but what chance then would we have had to glorify God?

Somehow  we sometimes have a bad habit of saying God is good and faithful only when we go through a particularly difficult situation. No matter the circumstance, good, bad, extraordinary, mundane, shall I not say God is good? I am a creature of habit and will I make my habit to say that God is good in every situation?

Because He is good I will say it... over and over again.

The Birth

Today there was a birth. A new life came into the world screaming and wailing and very perturbed at this new some what unpleasant environment.

Expectancy. Nine long months of waiting. Wondering of what the new little one was to be. Anticipating the thought of holding the tiny fragile bundle. Fearing of the becoming of parents and all that entails. The excitement of family and friends who eagerly ask about the joyous arrival.

Then its here. The labor.

The work. Hours of it and then in a few seconds a baby comes into the world.

There is not just a birth of a baby, but a birth of a mother. A woman who all her life has cuddled babies and wondered what it would be like to hold her own. Now in her arms is the baby she carried close to her heart. Her baby that she prayed for. The baby she will pray for the rest of her life even when it has long outgrown its baby shoes.

The man lets go of the hand that gripped his hand fiercely during those long hours. In his work worn hands he grasps his tiny son. With the birth of the mother there is the birth of the father. Gently and firmly this man will bring up his child to adulthood. By his father the child will be taught many things, but most importantly the child will be taught love.This man will love the child's mother and show the child what love really is.

Together the new parents marvel over the baby who they brought into the world. Together they thank the God in heaven. The God who saw fit to bless them with this child. The God who will watch over this child for the rest of it's life. The God who will be there when the child finds out the world is cruel. The God who will comfort when the child finds out what death is. The God who will protect this child from things of which the parents may never know had threatened their child .

The God who will guide this child in His ways when the child decides to follow the one and only God for the rest of his life.

Today there was a birth not just of a baby, but a mother and a father. Two lives forever changed and one life just beginning its legacy, all because of the handiwork of God.

Seasons of Life and Death

The leaves are turning their golden color as they do every fall if the drought hasn't robbed them of their color. Just like every year once again the season is changing from one to another. Sixteen years ago this fall our family entered a new season. My mother became fatherless. My grandma became a widow and I the youngest grandchild lost my last living grandfather.

Warm with the heat of summer was the day my grandpa went with the doctor. Six weeks later when we went to his funeral the air was cold and the wind blew hard and the sun never came out. On that stifling  summer day the doctor told my grandpa that he had cancer and there was nothing that could be done. The only thing left to do was to spend time with family. So he did. They took family photos. My grandma isn't smiling in any of them. Already she was mourning the loss of her soul mate.

All to soon grandpa became bed ridden. Mother and I moved into grandma and grandpas house. Someone remained always at grandpa's bedside keeping watch lest he should slip away from this earth alone.

I fed grandpa creamy custard and cold jello with a silver spoon. Our eyes would meet as I stood on a chair by grandpa's bed. Grandpa didn't talk anymore and I'll never know what went through his brain as his youngest grandchild cared for him.

I was six years old and those are the only memories I have of my grandpa.

The hospice lady came often which I thought was very nice because she would bring me coloring pages. I don't remember the pictures, but I think they had to do with something about helping little brains fathom the idea of death. I wonder if the hospice lady knew that even at such a young age the fact that I was witnessing my grandpa dying was a good thing from God.

One day all of us grandchildren played outside all day long. Mom summoned me into the house. I went into the room where all of the aunts and uncles were standing around grandpa's bed. Grandpa's eyes were open yet he didn't seem to be there. Mom held me close and told me grandpa would die soon. I took it all in and then ran out to play. While the grandchildren were running and screaming without a care in the world Grandpa went to be with his Savior.

    Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
        I will fear no evil,
    for you are with me;
        your rod and your staff,
        they comfort me.
(Psalm 23:4 ESV)

Grandpa's last season of life had been a transition of life on this earth to eternal life. With his Savior by his side grandpa went down into the valley of the shadow of death. There was pain, but grandpa came out unscathed into his eternal home.

    “Death is swallowed up in victory.”
    “O death, where is your victory?
        O death, where is your sting?”
(1 Corinthians 15:54-55 ESV)

 

Outside the window of grandpa's bedroom that October day the leaves lay dead and brown. Inside the house was grandpa's shell of body not representing lifelessness, but rather the hope of life with God forever. Our family was in a new season and feeling some what uncertain on how to procede, but God in his grace carried us through. 

Seasons come and go every single year, but our hope in the Lord remains steady and firm every single day.

musing of the North

The air has become pleasantly even temperatures in the day time and at night it takes on a chill . It almost feels like the weather in Canada when we were up there this summer. I wonder if that means that it has become cold in Canada. Maybe even have they seen their first snow yet? Probably they have stopped going to the lake for daily swims I would guess.

I'm thinking about the children filling the classrooms of the school that we made our home for a few short days. Do the even hear the name of God in the rooms where sat and read our Bibles every day? In the teacher's lounge our group met every morning for team devotions and prayer. What do the teachers talk about in that room now? Is there needless words instead edifying words of grace and truth? 

Are the children only allowed to go to the playground at recess instead of playing with us for hours upon hours as we did this summer.  Where do the children go I wonder when its cold and dark, but their parents haven't noticed because of their drunken state.

I'm miles and miles away, but Canada is stuck in my brain. It seems it doesn't take much for me want to pack my bags and flee to Canada just to spend a few hours on a playground with affection starved children.  I don't want to just wonder how these people are doing I want to know and see them for myself.  The ache in my heart for Canada reminds me to pray and to give my all for Christ where I am just as I did up there.

I could go about the business of having visited another country and returning quite turned inside out, but I won't. Because my friend Liz who has spent far more time in a foreign culture than I has written about it already on her blog. Check it out its good.

This is a test :)

just grace

Written  Aug 26

For probably the first time in my life this week I got up before 6 am five straight days in a row. There may have been another time I arose early, but it was probably so terrible I blocked it from my memory. No I am not a morning person and for the good of everyone else its probably a good thing I've been up a good hour before I'm seen by anyone.

Thankfully though by the time I stumble out of the dorm my eyes are up open enough to glimpse the sunrise. Oh the lusciousness of the golden colors streaking the sky. There is a beckoning to just stop and look and take in the mighty power of God. Sometimes I forget to breath all though that could be attributed to the fact also that my brain isn't fully functioning yet. Ahem.

I've only been up 20 minutes and already God has already taken the time to remind me of His faithfulness. My brain may be a bit foggy before breakfast, but I'm still smart enough to know that I'm a fool to think that God isn't Good.

God's goodness has been the theme of my week. I've been hear working at the school I graduated from all of 4 months ago and its been grand.

The first few weeks of my freshmen year three years ago were anything, but grand. Life became for me a living nightmare of homework constantly tormenting me and the things I loved most like cooking and watching children were withheld from me.

In the blur of the adjustment to school I wondered how I would be able to ever make it through the year. To my utter relief I soon discovered the secret of God's grace.

I wonder what would have happened had I remained so homesick. Had I kept on worrying and feeling so discouraged, would I have even made it through that first year? Would I have come back for another year? Honestly I know if I had kept on in the course of feel distressed and overwhelmed I would have missed out on a lot. Probably I would have never have graduated and of course I then wouldn't have been around to be asked to stay at the school.   

Its a sobering thing to look back over my life and see what I was, but then to see how God in His grace changed my course to something so much more worth while.

"God's grace is sufficient for anywhere His providence places us"

I'm alive and doing adventures because of the grace of God. 

Dear Me.

Dear teenage me,

Oh what a time of life you are in, suddenly discovoring that life has adventure to it, but with adventure often comes pain. Right now you probably long for the next thing. Hoping that it will be bigger and betteer. Can you be convinced that life is wonderful right where you are because that is where God has placed you?

Grandma has just moved into the basement of your own house and I know you aren't sure if you like this change. You want to go to grandma's house not have her house be at your house all the time. Would you believe it if I told you that having grandma live with you is going to be one of the most life changing shaping experiences of your life? Would you be able to fathom the fact that even is as grandma grows weaker and weaker she will teach you more about God by her actions then her words? The days are going to be long, but one morning you will wake to find that grandma has gone to be with Jesus and you will rejoice for her gain, but mourn for your loss.You will always be thankful for the special way you grew to know your grandmother.

One thing I know upsets you is your family. You want little brothers and sisters and you think it would be nice to have older siblings that aren't often mistaken for your parents. You think your family isn't normal and you long for other things that seem so much better. I wonder have you ever thought about the fact that according to the world's standards you shouldn't have ever been born? Realize that because your siblings are so much older you have been given a whole treasure chest of information. I know you want to turn up your nose at your big brothers and sisters, but in a few years you will regret doing so and realize how much they have cared for and loved their little sister. Perhaps now they may seem to be just older siblings, but it would be easier for you now if you were grateful for the treasures God gave you.

Your probably wondering too why you are more like the grandchild of your parents then a actual child. Well my dear self its because that's how God in His perfect sovereignty meant it to be and really there is no other way to explain it. Maybe it is somewhat strange and odd for your parents to get the senior discount, but realize now that life with older parents is really quite grand.

Life right now maybe seems like a set circemstances that doesn't make the least bit of sense. Sometimes you may wonder why you even excist. You are struggling with the fact that God does really love you even if you have gone against his commands. God's grace is hard for you to grasp and it doesn't seem like it should be so free to you. There are the days when more things seem to have gone wrong then right. You are wishing and longing for something better and you are sure when that something better comes life will be better.

Let me tell you this. Life is going to get better and even more wonderful then you ever could have thought. I must apolgize now because I'm going to contradict myself. Life is also going to get more horrible then you ever could have imaigained. Horrible and wonderful can go in the same sentance, because the God your struggling to trust in now will always be in conthrol. Every single day you are going to be able thank him for his blessings, even when it seems like there are few to count.

Understand this, its your view of God that is going to affect everything. Your mother tells you this, but I know you don't believe her. Really it is true when you cannot see God as a gracious God and a very good God who is always in control, life will seem terrible.

Maybe you think that you cannot wait till you are in your twenties because by then surely you will have life nicely put together. Unfortunately no you will still be learning very much from God. Here is a little secret though. Age gives you the ability to look back at life and to see how God is working. Trust me it will make better since of why just exactly everything happened the way it did. Those struggles and tears you will know were the tools used by God to shape your life.

Right now the struggles may seem toilsome and it may seem that no one understands your problems. Trust me I haven't forgotten how sometimes you cried yourself to sleep. Know the pain is what will grow you. Know that it is for your benefit to grow in God's Word now. When you get older your not going to regret it. Know that the more you understand God and His ways the better your life will be.

Yours Truely,

Your 22 year old self

I wrote this post for the dear me: letter to your teenage self link up. I wrote the words, because I myself needed to hear them and because other girls in are the chaos of teenage craziness might read my humble advice.

One Monday Morning...

I'm not an especially big fan of Mondays. Mostly it is probably physiological, but for some reason it always feels a bit harder to start the routine of the day on Monday.

Mondays always seem to be quite ordinary and routine and really nothing extraordinary usually happens on Monday.

Eleven years ago it was an ordinary Monday morning. People rushed out the door with coffee cups in hand to work. Mothers herded their children in nearly mad chaos onto school buses. Appointments were kept and groceries were bought. Business people left for trips to make deals and to also deal with clients. Wives and husbands argued about who would take out the trash. Children got mad at their parents and left their rooms messy. The tired wife wondered when she and here husband would ever have time together. Alarms didn't go off and people over slept. Some laughed at life while others only found sadness and discouragement.

Just a seemingly ordinary Monday for 2,996 Americans. Monday night they all went to bed perhaps glad to have the day behind them. A few short hours later another day started and for awhile life went on just as it had the previous day.

By noon that ordinary Tuesday nothing was ordinary anymore. 2,996 Americans were dead and their families were left to pick up the pieces. Every morning after that fateful day became a fight to survive in a cloud of grief for so many Americans.

When the dawn of the new morning arrived on Wednesday how many people craved for normalcy. Did the wives cry frustrated tears wishing for piles of dirty laundry to appear?  Children suddenly realized what they did have in a parent and wondered if the arguments had been worth it.Did they wish for rules they had loathed so much before.

Life stopped being ordinary for so many and took on a new kind of ordinary. Life was spontaneously crying at any given moment. Suddenly so many were forced to be a single parent. Parents discovered what life was like to bury a child. Siblings realized that the person who shared all their inside jokes was gone.

Sometimes I detest the ordinary because it can be so ordinary and tiresome. Ordinary life is not to be loathed but cherished knowing that because the simplest things are happening life is going fine.When ordinary life does turn awful there is an extraordinary God to give us the strength to find the new ordinary.

Thank God for the ordinary, for some day we may wish it back with a passion.

The Wedding: What it was.

Written 8.2.2012

Last night I went to a wedding. You know where the gorgeous looking princess marries her handsome prince charming and afterwards everyone stuffs themselves with cake and punch before sending off the couple in a sea of floating rice to the world of happily ever after.

Perhaps that is what comes to the mind of most when they think of the word wedding. The wedding of yesterday eve was all that and then so much more.

Candles flickered on the stage of church as it was filled with church goers, unsaved co workers, the culture saturated middle school girls, family, and friends from here there and everywhere. Beautifully combined were people from all walks of life, all because two people were brought together by God to spend the rest of their lives together.

It could have been just a wedding where vows were said and then sealed with a kiss, but no this was not a wedding to glorify the couple, but to glorify God. 

Solomon words were spoken not just of love, but of solemnity of making a pledge before God. A man stepping forward to guide and protect his wife just as Christ does the church. A woman stepping forward to say she will trust and follow her husband as the church follows Christ.

Perhaps it does sound like a odd idea, but really this blushing bride and handsome groom will find themselves happy for years to come by following the simple formula God has laid out. 

The love that was so evidently seen that evening was a selfless love. A love of longing to serve the other person to be their happiness and a laying aside of their own happiness to fulfill their spouse's needs.

Together as a whole we as the guests were witnesses to the event. Guests who had never heard the gospel heard and saw it breathed that night. Guests who had heard the gospel many times over were reminded of what it really was to live it in the every day things like being married.

Flickering candles, a cream colored lace dress, delicious eats, soft music, all those things made the wedding beautiful, but the real beauty of the wedding was the love of Christ that shown in the couple .

And so it was a beautiful wedding, not just because of how it looked, but also because of who was glorified that night.

The Choice

Today I got up and fed people cold cereal and other various assortment of unhealthy breakfast foods. Later I fried bacon like a short order cook from the local diner and once again filled hungry tummies for the second time of the day.

Really I was doing what I loved. Cooking and interacting with people, but in one awful moment I found myself hating it. I was tired. Physically tired and emotionally tired of just trying to be beyond perfect.

Nights of sleep had been robbed of me by my own admonition, because I had to lay awake going over the game plan in my mind of how I was going to accomplish my over the top expectations.

Stolen from me was God's perfect peace, because without realizing it I began working for man instead of God.

Each day I have a choice. Please others or God. Ultimately in fulfilling responsibilities given to me, washing dishes, babying sitting children, feeding hungry people, hanging out with some awesome girls; I can either serve God or those around me.

When I work for those around me I do my job and try to be something I'm not. Sometimes I cut corners and hope no one will notice.

I work for God and in His strength I do all I'm asked to do with excitement, because its the responsibilities God has placed before me at this time. Even if no one notices I do it all, because I know God is noticing.

Either I leave my day discouraged, because I failed miserably at my own expectations or I leave my day in awe of God's faithfulness to use a character like myself for His glory.

No matter the task given to us there is a choice given to us of whom we are going to serve and glorify in our day. Is it not so much simpler to work for one God rather then the hoards of people we think we should please perfectly?

Choose either to use yourself all by yourself and or let God use you all by Himself. Is there really a choice?

"If you and I are to be used in our sphere as D. L. Moody was used in his, we must put all that we have and all that we are in the hands of God, for Him to use as He will. " 

R.A. Torrey

Disclaimer: Thoughts inspired by a sermon delivered by my brother several years ago. It stuck in my brain and never left, thanks big bro :)

The Mark of Canada

I went on a journey that took me over miles of the northern part of our great country. Then after a few fierce questions from a stern faced border guard I was across the bolder in another land. Perhaps it didn't look any different at first then my homeland, but the culture would leave a bigger imprint on my life then I ever could have imagined. Not a day goes by where Canada doesn't drift across my brain. Sweeping my mind back to a time that was quite all bliss, but very extraordinary just the same. I think it was the team too that left a mark upon my life never to be removed. Let me tell you why.

Every other sentence has to have the word "eh" in it and when I'm not saying "eh" I'm thinking it. I must confess that I desperately try to talk in a Northern accent, but it just won't come out. Instead I find myself talking as if I wondered over from England and lost my way back home. Ahem.

I chop up salad and remember chopping up salad so many times for our meals while in Canada. We were a bit over ambitious in the vegetable shopping and so the veggies were plentiful at each meal. Interestingly enough the chocolate chip cookies ran out before the veggies did.

Whenever I crave a spot of tea I remember late night tea parties and how we managed to solve the worlds problems while sipping tea out of disgraceful paper cups. Well maybe we just solved a few of the world's problems or maybe more our own personal pet peeves about certain situations. Cough. Cough.

Carrots. You simply would not believe how amusing carrots can be. How they ever made you dissolve into gales of laughter? Have you only stopped laughing because your sides hurt? Really I'm being honest carrots are simply the most hilarious things ever. Yes, I did come back in my right mind from Canada.

Libraries are great place for parties you know and the more rumbustious and annoying you are the better.  Whoever said libraries were only for quietness, so you could whisper sweet nothings was quite wrong.

There are so many more moments of amusement we enjoyed on our trip, but I'm afraid if I shared them all on here, I really would appear to have lost my mind in its entirety. I think I would bore you to tears if I went on a long exposition about re fried beans and Black Widows.  Let's just say we had a good time, a very good time.

bikers and red faces

Please don't ask me how it happens, but inevitably it seems embarrassing moments follow me around like college students chasing after free food. I love my friends words  that have become my personal motto, "embarrassment is a choice". Some how though when your face is an unnatural color of red its hard to convince people your not embarrassed.

Really its just the sun and the fact that my skin is pale so sometimes it is just red. Arguing with someone that your not embarrassed can make the situation even more embarrassing, so sometimes its best to just laugh uproariously as if you meant to do that silly deed on purpose. Everyone always enjoys a clown. The downfall of that endeavor sometimes is that everyone becomes embarrassed for you when you should be embarrassed yourself, but I digress.

The other day I was babysitting two very adorable children. Their mother and I were in need of some coffee and nourishment because even the most adorable of children can cause enough action to put their care takers in need of a triple shot of espresso. I was doing my best at keeping the children controlled I mean happily entertained when the little girl decides to make friends with the leather clad biker.

Naturally the biker is quite taken by the attention of this delightful creature and makes several comments about this to me. Smiling I nod my head and I keep nodding my head as the biker tells me how cute she is just her mom. I'm still smiling and agreeing with him when suddenly I'm filled with horror as I realize the child's mother is across the room and the remark is directed to me. Sputtering I hastily point out that the child does not belong to me and gesture frantically told her mother. The biker just smiles and insists that he was talking to me. Air conditioning has probably made the room cold enough to be a walk in refrigerate, but I'm feeling quite warm and feel relieved when the said man heads off on his bike.

How is it one day people ask me when I'm going to graduate from high school and the next day they ask me about my children? Such a silly unsure world we live in. Sometimes I'm not sure if I produce embarrassing moments or the people around me do.

Me blame shift? Never!

Ministry: What it is.

Emptiness, I never knew that it smelled, but when I walked into the dorm that hadn’t been occupied for three months I knew what emptiness smelled liked. Staleness reeked the room as much as the echoes of bare rooms rocketed about the empty dorm. It’s a weird feeling to be in place that you don’t really feel like you belong, yet is to be your home. College graduates do not make their home in cold dorm rooms, no they go into the world and make their path. 

Apparently I missed that memo, because this fall I’m moving back into a college dorm as if I never walked the stage with diploma in hand three months ago. I’m not doing it to take classes and no in case you were wondering I wasn’t failed either. In fact homework and I will probably keeping a nice distance from each other for quite a while.  Instead I will be busy in the kitchen cooking meals and focusing on spending time with the girls as an assistant dean.

When I was asked to stay at the school and work after graduation. Thousands of thoughts raced through my mind. Maybe that was why it took over four months for me to give a honest answer. Seriously some how you expect that when you have graduated from college that you will go far from the college and do great things. Cooking meals and supervising homework laden girls in the same school you just graduated from really doesn’t seem all that spectacular.

What if  I were to tell you though I was going abroad. Going to a college in China to be their cook and to live in a college dorm and mentor the girls. Wouldn’t that sound wonderful? Would you not think that was a good and noble ministry? I know I would, so why is it when the ministry comes to you in a very unexpected and seemingly most unexpected way do you question if it really is a ministry?

Some how I have this impression in my mind that ministry must be different and exotic then anything I have ever done before. I forget that ministry is the first person you see in the morning, even if it is your mother. Ministry is the way you live life. Ministry is building up those around you serving them as Christ so humbly did for us.

For me ministry will be feeding hungry people and hopefully keeping them from having food poisoning. Ministry for me will be encouraging girls in their walk with the Lord as they fight the insane jungle of college life. Probably this is not the ministry you were called too. No your ministry is described quite differently then mine because God called you to it not me. God is equipping you for your unique ministry just like He is going to give me the power to do whatever comes my way.

Please do not tell me I’m doing this job because I was  too scared  to do anything else. The closer I get to my first day the more terrified I become. Really being put in two positions of responsibility is the most daunting thing in the world to me.

God’s grace will carry me. Just like it did my freshmen year when I nearly quit at Christmas break. Grace brought me back for a second year when I didn’t want too and Grace took me through my senior year. When I knew I had to yes to this job, but wasn’t sure if I could God removed the fear and gave peace.

Adventures are awaiting me and I’m following the God who has taken me through all the adventures before. 

What the North did to Me

One week ago I stood under the darkened sky in the backwoods of Canada taking the crisp air of our last night in the North. Stars twinkled over a tiny village of 600 people. Beautiful were the stars, but the lives of many of the village people were anything but beautiful. Ugly and harsh seemed was the world of these people.

 Tonight as I sit in my comfortable air conditioned living room I wonder about the little girl with the spunky smile. She was the one who told me how her mother almost killed herself with a shotgun. Those words smoothly spilled off her lips as if she was telling me her favorite color.  When  darkness began to fall I asked if maybe she should go home so her mother wouldn’t worry. No she told me it didn’t matter because her mother was drinking and she never went home when her mother was drunk and no she wouldn’t go to her father’s either because likely he would be just as drunk. Young, but not too young to manage her own accommodations for the night. Old enough to know that she better stay away from her parents when they were drinking for her own safety.

The little child knew so much, yet seemed so astounded when I told her how God had actually made man out of dirt. I wonder if when she is around her intoxicated parents if she will remember there is a great and powerful God who loves her more than anything else? Will she remember the American who hugged her tight and listened to her stories?

The next morning we packed our embarrassment of American riches into our cars. Onto the dirt road we drove leaving the little tiny village in the dust. Maybe all of my belongings made it out of the village, but a piece of my heart didn’t. Part of me broke when I journeyed North, never to be put together the same way again.

How can you sleep at night when you know there are children with silver toothed smiles who are cowering under their blankets trying to shut out frightful dreams? How do you go to church and fellowship with other believers when you know there is a lonely missionary couple longing for the sweet fellowship of other believers? How do you pick up the phone and talk to your parents when you know so many children are begging for their parents to love them?

Fix it. Do something. Give money. Write letters. Do anything. Try and do everything you possible can to make the lives of these people better, but you can’t do everything.

God will be there when those children can’t sleep at night because of unspeakable nightmares. God is there with the missionary couple who watch the fruit grow all too slowly. God is there when a drunken parent slaps their child.

I want to do everything, but in the end I have to trust God knowing He is the one who can and will do everything. Difficult….yes, but there is no other way but to trust in the One who is control.

A few days showed me things I never knew and it showed me how to trust God like never before. 

The Rest of the Story

Farming is dangerous. At eleven years of age I was made very well of this when the father of seven children from our church was killed. He wasn't the last person I knew that was killed in a farming accident.

If you read the news you know the story. Train hit by a swather. Young man life flighted to Wichita. Devastating, how could anyone flirt so closely with death and survive? Even as helicopter blades blew over the soil of a farm field; already phone calls were being made and word was spreading quickly about the plight of this young man. Emergency crews of course couldn't arrive right away, but there was someone there to comfort. Close to the accident site lived a family from Jarad's church. The couple soothed Jarad with words and right there at the accident site they prayed. When he felt so alone and there was someone to say that everything was going to be alright. Others quickly heard the news and sent up cries of help in prayer not knowing if they would see mischievous smile of Jarad again.

Before the newspapers and media ever heard about the story a whole community of people rose up to pray for him.

All this went on that Friday morning without me knowing. Away at camp I couldn't answer my cell phone and when I did see my brother's name as a missed call instantly I knew something was wrong. He told me that the man that had been such clown in some of the wedding pictures of his big sister, also the wedding of my big brother, had been hit by a train, but was going to be okay.

I didn't know till later that of course it was question if he would actually live. Being hit by a train isn't exactly the most safest thing in the world. Just a few days later though there are still no brain injuries and though the story isn't over yet he is alive. The family still shudders when they hear a train whistle. Whispers of thanks go through our brains and we try so hard not to think of the what ifs.

We will go to church this morning and it will be a normal Sunday. A Sunday that so easily could have been a time of mourning for a life snuffed out.

Nobody fully understands how the accident happened. Nobody quite understands how he is alive, but all we know in those few horrible seconds Friday morning there was Someone watching out for Jarad. In the moments that followed there were the very tiny wondrous ways that it was evidence Jarad was being taken care of. Yes it was Friday the 13th, but there was not a stroke of bad luck. Bad things just happen. We don't like them, but then happen. What happened to Jarad was a bad thing, but there were the good things. In fact looking back over the events more good things happened then bad. Strangely yet not so so very strangely there has been more good that came out of the supposedly unlucky Friday the 13th then bad.

Friday the 13th last week was a very good day.

we are family

Ice cream, talking and more talking, swimming, laughing and some crying, games, and then more ice cream. Pretty much that has been my life for the past few days. From hither and yonder the aunts and uncles, and cousins came for our family reunion. Not a family to do things half way we have been partying in style. Amongst all the fun the fun and joking there was the quiet moments too.
One hundred and fifty some voices quoting the 100th psalm. Voices just loud enough to be heard speaking their thankfulness of the older generation. Breaking into song to sing the doxology before our meal.

Just as everyone becomes quiet some poor child who could have used a bit more sleep breaks into tears. Soon there is a whole chorus of crying. The great grandchildren reminding everyone they have a bit of maturing to do before they carry on family legacy.

I wonder if grandma ever thought she would see her family in such big numbers. When the first tiny baby lay in casket did grandpa wonder if there would ever be anyone to pass his farm onto? Could grandpa and grandma have imagined that some day there family would be scattered all over the world. Serving missions in the remote places of Mongolia and Africa and other countries, ministering with technology in Spain, and then the many who found time for a short term mission trip .

When for a few years after the baby was buried there weren't any children did they even dare to hope the family name would be carried forth? Grandma didn't know then she would go on to bring eleven children into the world. Grandma didn't know she would again have to bury a child. Not a child but a grown man, father of her seven grandchildren. Soon after grandma got to heaven herself two of her other children joined her.

 The Busenitz mansion up in heaven seems to be already be filling up quite nicely. Naturally we are happy for those who get to party in heaven, but we aren't quite ready just yet to for everybody to go up there.

No, grandma probably didn't expect this. There probably wasn't time to think with so many little children under foot and big farm house to keep under control. Grandma kept busy bringing up her children in the Lord. Teaching them what was important and what was not important. This is why today we have our family the way it is, because of the goodness of God to give us a Christan heritage. We don't deserve it and grandma may not have expected it to be carried forth to the extent it has been.

God's blessings  though are the most unexpected ones. Making us stop and thing about what we really have. One thing grandma did expect was God's faithfulness. Only God alone carried her as a young wife when she buried her first child. Each trial of life rooted grandma stronger in her faith and all of us family watched this testimony and put it into our lives. Sometimes we really didn't know the blessing God had given by letting us see His grace in action. For ever since a handsome farmer pledged his vows to a glowing bride, so many years ago it has been God's grace that has shaped our family.

By the grace of God we are family, all 200 some of us.

risk

When my mother carried me in her womb she took  a risk.


Women who were 44, were not supposed to have babies. Probably there was a thought that a little trip to a special clinic would solve everything, but my mom took the risk and carried me.

There was a risk that I could come weeks too early, so she lay in her bed all night long and then all day long just so I would stay safe.

There were risks in labor and delivery, but she bore them bravely.

Mom had risks in raising me too. After all raising a youngest when most of the children are grown isn't a easy task. On her knees though mother fought the risks and gave the battle to God.

To carry  a baby in her womb meant mom had to risk her health, her life style, her dignity. There was the risk I would grow up and rebel and leave my mother in shame. Mom took those risks though to be a mother all over again.

Thousands of women everywhere have risked everything to give birth, but the risks my mother took will be the ones I remember most.