Remembering to be Grateful: A Challenge from A to Z

A- 

That's a hard one.  I'll come back.

B- beautiful, bountiful BETHLEHEM!  (that was easy!). 

C- courage, a new thing in my heart formed by the fire of trials, curiosity, cameras, catsup (it's just a fun word!), and Cool Whip runs to WalMart with Tyler

D- dreams and visions, and the way they enCourage, Delany's smile

E- Grandpa's Elmer Fudd ears.  I sure do love that man!  It was sad when he exclaimed how he wished I lived closer.  Me too, Grandpa.  Me too.

F- Feral Fred :-), Fridge Art (...yeah, I could have put that on A) 

G- Grandma's kisses, guitars, gummy bear rewards

H- softened hearts, Haven Rest (aka my house), and being able to help others without enabling

I- iguanas (so cute!), injuries and the odd way they heal our hearts in other places

J- red jiggly Jello with sliced bananas

K- memories of kite flying at recess with my boys.  I miss them so much!

L- laughter, the good belly jiggling kind (jiggling is a good thing...except where triceps are concerned)

M- a mother's heart in labor, my Murphys, Movember-gotta love it!, messy relating, mercy

N- nature, nurture, Nutella, November, nephews, and new mercies

I got it now! 

A-  accepting No for an answer, a tough skill to teach ...and learn.

Okay, where were we?

O- ostriches with their head in the sand, I'm like that, hiding and pretending not to see. (note to self:  see C and remember you can choose to walk in the new creation you)

P-  popcorn presents, pomegranate seeds, parents 

Q- quarters wasted in The Claw, a cheap price for a memory.

R- rice made the Murphy way.

S- the way the sun rises and sets perfectly in my haven windows, songs-especially those sweet times when my heart hears the song the Spirit sings over me at night.

T-  Tetris, I love it when things fit nicely together. Life is like that for me, though-scrambling around to make it all fit.  

U- understanding, that moment the heart wakes up, "umm" (and the freedom to say it) 

V- is for volition and vacation 

W- water, living water, wells dug in 3rd world countries. 

....we interrupt this blog post for a google search to see if there's a '2nd world'

...well there you go!

S- is definitely for squirrel!! 

R- for random, and rabbit trails that bring us finally back to:  

X- What Does the Fox Say?  (Sorry-couldn't resist!)

Seriously, xylophones and x-Ray is all I got.  Sure I like music, and being able to see bones is cool -

Oh! Wait!  X-Ray vision!!!  I'm grateful for the way some people have been given the ability to see straight to the heart of the matter, to see through smoke screens, and bring to the light that which should never have been hidden.  

Y- yellow rose memories of both Texas and unrequited love

Z- fun with zebra stripes, French Accents, and those sweet little zebra fish I used to help care for at my grandparent's pet shop.  

Suddenly this year, my grandparents got frail and old.  For the first time I can remember, we didn't play dominos after a holiday meal.  Did they miss it as much as I am missing it now?

M- memories:   Make them, hold onto them, cherish them, and be grateful - even for the hard ones.

Grace to be Thankful More

The sheer knowledge of the comforting presence of the Holy Spirit during a trial is reason enough to be thankful specifically for that trial.

So many times I'm moved to thank God when I receive something I wanted.  Though, I'm often struck at how the gift is more important to me than the giver....and it now appears the god I'm thanking is actually my idol.  

I'm guilty of often thanking the "little g" god of good weather for my special event, thanking the "little g" god of everything working out so that I can stay in my comfort zone, and even of shouting thanks to the "little g" god who finds lost keys.

(Edit:  thought-"little g" god = treating Abba as if he were my geni)

Colossians 3:15-17

And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in one body. And be thankful. Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly, teaching and admonishing one another in all wisdom, singing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, with thankfulness in your hearts to God. And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.

Verse 15:  be thankful for the peace Abba gives us.  

Where is the God of all peace when I am looking for my keys (again)?  

Where is my trust in El Shaddai, the all powerful when I am worrying about the weather?  

Where is Emmanuel, God with us, when I need comfort in the midst of uncertain times?  

Where is my faith in my Creator, the God of order who has assured each of us that He has a plan? (a good one, too!)

Abba, give me a thankful heart.  Renew a right Spirit in me.  I'm sorry for how I have chosen not to be holy and set apart because my comfort and my desires were more important to me than your love, provision, and presence in the midst of unmet longings.

I don't want to be one of those who models after the Israelites in the days when there was no king in the land and everyone did what was right in their own eyes.

I SO long to be able to sing with conviction the verse from the hymn "'Tis So Sweet to Trust in Jesus"

"Yes I've learned to trust in Jesus

Just from sin and self to cease

Just from Jesus simply taking

Life and rest, and joy and peace.

..,Jesus, Jesus precious Jesus

Oh for grace to trust Him more."

So, what am I grateful for this Thanksgiving?  

Grace.  It's really all I have. 

A Lullaby Prayer

I really loved a song-prayer that a new friend and her family sang for 6 years as they asked The Lord for the desire of their heart with regards to adoption.  I loved the way a song-prayer feels more trusting, less desperate.  So, I determined in my heart to write my own. 

It's okay, I decided, that I want a sibling group under 5. The children's room will have a crib/toddler bed and a full sized bed. Abba loves me, wants us to ask him for what we desire, and He delights to give good things. ...

I started my song in 6/8 time - a good swaying lullaby kind of song.

...and the words came. 

Abba
Abba Father
I want - (this is where the music in my head comes to a record scratching halt)

"No God, that's not what this song is about. I'm supposed to put something poetic in this spot about changing diapers, bottles, and potty training - all the things I long to do as a Mom. This is where I share my heart with you and you listen and orchestrate a plan or three to bless me because I believe you have enough love for me even when times are hard. K?"

So I started the lilting melody again:

Abba
Abba Father
I want .... "Fine."
(And I opened my hand-again, smiled, sensed His loving smile - and maybe a chuckle as I took a deep breath and released the rest of my song)

I want Your will
Abba Father

Children of
The Heavenly Father
Safely in His bosom gather
Nestling bird or star in heaven
See the refuge He has given

Abba
Abba Father
I want your will
Abba Father
Show me your way
Give me your heart
Show me your face
You have my heart.

Then I sang the rest of the hymn with my new refrain and the words cut my heart. I've always loved it, but it has new meaning as a potential foster mom.

Though He gives
Or He takes
Abba Father never forsakes
It's His loving purpose solely
To preserve them
Pure and holy.

Neither Life

Nor death will ever

From The Lord 

His children sever

Unto then His grace He shows

And our sorrows

ALL He knows

Monday Morning

"Once I press myself into action, I immediately begin to live. Anything less is merely existing. The moments I truly live are the moments when I act with my entire will." ~ Oswald Chambers

I have been living inside my flu cocoon the last 24 hours, but I've been healthy (enough) for 48 hours.  Sometimes it's hard to break out.

"Choose this day whom you will serve, don't turn to the left or the right...."

I hear Jesus inviting me 'Today I set before you both life and death...choose life.'  

But I whine back "I don't want to live!"

Living involves risk, effort, and facing the fear that there isn't enough of me to go around, that I don't have the endurance to finish today's race.  I lack courage and the 'want to'-

-then I look up and seen the amber glow of the sunrise beckoning me.  Hope is there.  Jesus is there.  The Holy Spirit is there, and my Abba wraps His arm around my shoulder as we start the journey of today.

~Rebecca

Finding My Way

Last night as I was following my sweet little blue dot to my destination (at the beach!!) I wandered off the pass.  One comical moment I found myself exactly where the dot said I was supposed to be, but I knew I wasn't on the road.  It was when I looked up that I saw the overpass!  How do I get there?

So many times I find myself doing the right thing with the wrong motivation and it ends up being the wrong thing...or my motivation is right, but the timing is wrong.

God's word and the Holy Spirit's leading is my blue dot in life an in this pursuit of an adoption or fostering ministry in my home.   Am I hearing His voice?  Am I on the right path?

I still don't know which avenue I should pursue:  fostering or adoption?  infants or older children?  boy or girl?

Another of my sweet opportunities for faithful following of my sweet little blue dot found me way off the path.  My spirit filled iPod was playing in the car a song by Jesus Culture (Fire Fall Down).  At the precise moment that I was seeing my bearings, the singer was requesting "show me Your Heart.  Show me Your way.  Show me Your glory."

This weekend I'm here seeking ...but am I seeking for the right things?

Pray for me?

The Road Block that Points to the Road Less Traveled

My autopilot is about to go on strike.

A few months ago our little town made national news because of the intensity of the rain one day.  Months after repairs were promised, several roads remain closed and impassable.  One such road is right in the middle of my morning commute to work.

So many mornings, I get in the left hand turn lane and wait for the light to change before I remember that the sign by the side of the road is telling me (again) that I still can't go that way.  

Embarrassed, I flip the blinker to the right  and wait for a hole to open up in traffic so I can get to work via the cumbersome alternate route.  

Sameness is important to me.  I love my routine.  I love being in control of my routine.

Fasting is a lot like closing a road frequently and mindlessly traveled.  It forces me to see how deeply ingrained my autopilot program is.

It forces me to face the ways I'm so practiced at in creating my own "happy" illusion that allows me to escape from the healing power of reality.

...Yes.  I meant to say healing.  Surgery  to remove a cancerous tumor hurts (a lot), but it is a remedy.   So many times we think that we are entitled to feel better -  especially here in the 1st world. 

I'm guilty of saying to myself or wholeheartedly agreeing with others when they say "it's been a hard day, you deserve chocolate." 

Only my anesthesias of choice are Ice cream, bejeweled blitz, and slothfulness.

As crazy as the seven (okay, nine) made me at first, I'm secretly bubbling over with gratitude for the work this self imposed road closing is doing in my heart.

I love the mystery in how restriction can bring about freedom upon freedom.

#grateful

Edit:  oh yeah!  I almost forgot!  Even 15 days into it, the pull of ice cream and all things easy is still strong.  

I was about to give in again, when I saw this sign...

Hebrews 12:1-3

"Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured such opposition from sinners, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart."

A Different View of Pain

"My heart and flesh may fail / The earth below give way / But with my eyes, with my eyes, I’ll see the Lord… And I’ll know every tear was worth it all,"

There is something bigger - oh so beautifully bigger than what we see happening on the surface in the midst of painful times.  

My loved ones may be going through trials, but I know and can completely count on my Creator and Savior to have their *eternal* best interest at heart...

...as well as mine. 

"Jesus says:  "Not a hair of your head will be lost.  Your perseverance will win you your lives" (Luke 21:18-19).  We can only survive our world when we trust that God knows us more intimately than we know ourselves.  We can only keep it together when we believe that God holds us together. " ~Henri Nouwen

Whatever trial you are facing, whatever loss, whatever suffering, we can choose to trust in the Truth that:  

1.  God is kind.  He cares that we are hurting.  

2.  God is fair and just.

3.  He knows more. 

4.  He always acts for the betterment of his children.

5.  Things aren't always what they seem.

6.  No matter how dark things may seem, He's right there with you.

7.  Abba has amazing power to create beauty out of ashes.  

That's how He rolls.

What?!? No Chocolate?

A couple of friends of mine and I are doing the 7 fast from Jen Hatmaker's book "7" with the purpose of stripping our hearts of the idolatry of excess.

“Even now,’ declares the LORD, ‘return to me with all your heart, with fasting and weeping and mourning. Rend your hearts and not your garments. Return to the LORD your God, for he is gracious and compassionate, slow to anger and abounding in love” (Joel 2:12–13).”

The first month focuses on food.  We each have chosen 7 (or nine) foods to eat for the entire month.  Mine are:  beef, eggs, spinach, apples, wheat bread, sweet potatoes, and block cheese.  I'm allowing a raspberry vinegrette to help with spinach consumption - since eating (blech) spinach is a discipline in itself, and each of us is allowing some caffeine to stay in our lives.  My Roo Cup is a staple, and I think my students will appreciate me increasing my list to nine.

I'm the only one in our group who has yet to read the book.  Since Jen writes it as a diary, I thought I'd read the book as I go.  

Today I'm clearing the fridge of leftovers and thawed items to prepare for shopping later on.   As I'm eating my leftover garlic chicken white pizza with black olives, I can't help but marvel in how flavorful it is.  The tang of the olives, the garlic( - oh the garlic!), and the creaminess of the white sauce.  

Soon after finishing, my thoughts turn to cleaning up the house.  

...I happen upon a wrapper.  It once hugged - nay, caressed a hazelnut chocolate bar imported straight to Aldi's from Germany.

All I can think about in that moment is how much I love and will dearly miss chocolate....and  ice cream, mint, banana smoothies made with *dark chocolate* almond milk, and cold cereal, and ...

And I get it.  I get what it means to take our thoughts captive.  This is a war.  - and I don't mean the card game!

2 Corinthians 10:3-5

For though we live in the world, we do not wage war as the world does. The weapons we fight with are not the weapons of the world. On the contrary, they have divine power to demolish strongholds. We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ.

A Price Paid

The other day I ran out of gas.  Yes, I made a couple unwise decisions with money right about the time I had to go to court.  I'm aware there are always consequences for bad choices.  Reggie had promised to pay for half of the divorce.  My insurance checks seem to be lost in the mail, and I didn't get paid up front for the house sitting I'm doing now - which is also why I'm out of gas at this point.  

My choice is to either ask for an advance of my pay from my friend's soon to be going out of business furniture store, or call Reggie to hold him accountable for his promise.

Desperation is the mother of courage.  I'm sure of this.

I called.  He responded nicely enough, but eventually made me pay.

I'm still wondering why he thought it was a good idea to show me current pictures of the husband who was supposed to be my forever partner in life, my protector, my lover,  and my best friend.  Oh!  How it hurt.  The Kip in the photo was the grey bearded man in the vision I had so long ago.  The one that kept me going, filled with hope.   But this man wasn't free.  This man wasn't worshipping and strong.  He was a shadow standing there blissfully covered in radioactive slime.  

I have gas in my car.  I have even eaten out.  I also celebrated the courage given me which helped me stand in the midst of the trial and inevitable grief.  (Thank you, Abba)

 I shouldn't have had to pay heart currency, too.

Judgement Day

In a divorce, the plaintiff (which has to be me in this case because of Kip's medical condition) files a complaint.  Everyone concerned is given time to be notified.  Monies are paid and papers notarized and filed.
Then a date is given to all parties to appear before the judge.  At that time, he will fill in the blanks of a Judgement document.  ...and by his or her authority, it's over.

...legally over.

At first I was excited about Judgement Day.  It was a promise for justice.  I sent out a mass email to my closest friends saying :

"A day I have desperately tried to avoid, a day I have feared, dreaded and severely grieved, and a day I am now relieved and anticipating is finally here.  

Truly the end was 18 months ago when Kip crossed the line and refused to come back.

So, now this is the beginning.

Because of this paperwork, Kip will be provided for in his nursing home until the day he passes on; and because of this paperwork, I am free to move forward. I'll be able to adopt!"

But now that Judgement Day is fast approaching (4 days, 6 hours and 44 minutes)  I'm not ready.  

I want someone to go in my place. Maybe I could find the money to hire a lawyer for just that part of the divorce?  

Are you seeing the parallel I'm seeing?   I understand more clearly the idea of a final Judgement Day and going before the throne to be held accountable for my life's choices.  Jesus is so incredibly full of sacrificial love for me that He appears before the throne in my place, so that the Father only see's His Son's purity.  

So, even though I'm panicking about Thursday, I'm so much more grateful for my Savior and the way he intercedes on my behalf.  ...maybe that will give me enough strength to face the earthly judge?

Grief and Anger

Grieving sucks.

This morning, it hit me. The cause of my recent lack of discipline (aka. disobedience) is anger.

When am I going to be resigned to the fact that this is my lot in life?

He gets to be a kid again. He'll even have his butt wiped in time. He gets to watch movies, chew tobacco, and have someone bring him his meals - every day!

Yay! that I get to finally fulfill a lifelong dream of caring for children. But what about the husband to share it with?
I really miss intimacy. Really. A lot. The way he used to stare into my soul... Those few, brief moments of being naked and unashamed. I miss the private jokes. The sweet walks. Movie time. Sharing sorrows. The joyful hunt for things that will bless him. Being delighted in just for being feminine.

I've paid a terrible price for being able to sleep on the left side of the bed and decorate the house any way I want.

...but I'd pay it again to have this freedom from his demanding control. I'd pay it again to learn my worth. I'd pay it again and again to be safe from emotional and physical harm.

I'm angry at Kip for choosing comfort over health, drunkenness over sobriety, and anesthesia over pain. I want to do that. I want to eat all the gelato I desire. I want to spend my days knitting and enjoying the sun shining through the windows. I want to leave the house messy and have someone else take care of the laundry and dishes - and cat hair.

Why don't I want to make healthy food choices?

Why is it glorious to cook, clean and do laundry for a child, but not so for me?

Why am I avoiding the risk of new relationships at church?

When will I see my worth responded to and fleshed out in daily life? If I hate me, and I am an image bearer...Whom am I really hating?

When will I be grateful for the exposure of my sin?

Isaiah 30:15 This is what the Sovereign Lord, the Holy One of Israel, says:

“In repentance and rest is your salvation,

in quietness and trust is your strength,

but you would have none of it."

...resting still hurts. Why do I waffle so, when I have experienced the Truth?

Aren't you glad this is a process? Praying for strength to depend / rest on Abba's strength


edit: Check it! The little letter above rest in verse 15 leads me to Exodus 14:14 - one of the most beautiful verses to the broken hearted and weary (at least to me)

A Letter to a Foster Child's MostVIP

Dear Birth Parent,

     I am honored to be able to partner with you in caring for your child.  I want you to know that I will do everything in my power to give your baby all the love and care he or she will need.   You have such an important place in your child’s life.   I want you to know that I will make sure your child knows how big your love is, and how hard you are working to ensure that you both are reunited as soon as possible.  I can’t imagine how hard it must be for you to be separated from someone so precious; and I am grateful for all the help you are giving me to be able to get to know your child (likes, dislikes, talents, struggles, comforting routines, and interests). 

     I can imagine that you want to know more about me.   I am single and work as an elementary school special education teacher.  I have a lot of experience caring for infants and children of all ages; and I adore what I do.  Some of my after school interests include knitting, reading, bicycling, music, helping with children’s worship at church, pets, and technology.  I attend a non-denominational church that is Bible based.   I love the Lord, believe strongly in the power of prayer, thoroughly enjoy modern-style worship, and strive to lead a lifestyle that is full of grace. 

     I think of my home as a haven - a safe place for resting, playing and growing.  Your child will have room to run and play in the yard, do crafts, play with toys and games, learn self-help skills, and have as much help as needed in school.  My main goals as a classroom teacher are to make sure my students are safe, healthy, and learning about being respectful and responsible citizens.   I hope to do this in my home as well.  

     I am glad that I am available to offer support to your child and will strive to help both of you to stay connected as you are THE most important person in your child’s life. 

With gratitude,

Rebecca (aka “Miss Becca”)

Status Messages Not Posted

Guess what!?!  It's raining!  

"Time heals," people often say.  This is not true when it means that we will eventually forget the wounds inflicted on us and be able to live on as if nothing happened.  That is not really healing;  it is simply ignoring reality.  But when the expression "time heals" means that faithfulness in a difficult relationship can lead us to a deeper understanding of the ways we have hurt each other, then there is much truth in it.  "Time heals" implies not passively waiting but actively working with our pain and trusting in the possibility of forgiveness and reconciliation."  ~Henri Nouwen

Hubert is a big Aslan fan.  

Favorite quote from church this morning: "God did not write the bible to prove that there were dinosaurs."

Because sometimes it's not a good idea to put the top down...especially when it Won't. Go. Back. Up.  #gratefulforgasstationroofs (oh wait, I posted that)

Mom, stop worrying.  The nice man at the gas station helped me get the top back up - @Mom. (Yeah, I posted that, too)

Oh wow!  It's raining! #BIGsuprise #flooding #stateofemergency

Love getting letters in the mail that ask me if I'd like to have an uncashed insurance reimbursement check from a year ago reissued.  #yesplease 

Is it wrong that I'm missing the rain?  #norainfor2days

I've decided that thunderstorms make conditions in my haven most favorable for knitting.  #scardycatshiding

Ummm....I think lightening struck way too close to my little humbug.  #yesIscreamed #loudly #Iscreamlikeagirl

 Lightening taking out the Internet *right* at the finish of a 4 hour race?  #TDF 🚴🇫🇷 #1stworldprobs 

Gotta love waking to a strange beeping sound.  I'm running down my mental list of truths before I get the courage to check it out.  1.  I'm not associated with the mafia.  2.  It did sound a bit like the microwave.  3. Lots of t-storm activity last night.  4.  Maybe it's a smoke detector?  #I'mgoingin (it was the stove)

Pretty sad when Gracie Mae turns out to be the braver of the three of us scardy-cats 

I figured out why cat owners take pictures - it's the only way to prove they exist.  #scardycatshiding

Check it out!  Another letter received about a check that I never cashed.  "Would you like the check re-issued?"  Umm...yes! :)

Gratitude list entries for the week:

• repentance and rest doing their thing
• amazingly soft alpaca yarn 
• super fun Tour de France stages
• furniture sales (YAY)
• the way Aussie's pronounce the word debut "day-boo"
• getting organized 
• being able to clean out the spare room without bawling
• domestic violence advocates 
• social workers 
• finished projects (alpaca knitted pillow! - looks and feels comforting)
• kitty snuggles
• being able to enjoy my last days of summer 
• TWO uncashed check letters received from BCBS - yay for future checks being mailed!
• landlord offering to be part of my home study so DSS can know that my home is well taken care of and that he's a safety resource in case I even need anything.  
• prayer time with friends
• family dinners
• Lydia's cooking
• continued pain in my ankle
• antibiotics - even when they wreak havoc in my digestive system.
• baskets
• Swedish movies on Netflix
• alarm clock songs that remind me of appropriate priorities. 
• Abba - all powerful, all loving, merciful, and yet just.
• a super cute high chair from my Cuz
• frozen banana and chocolate almond milk smoothies
• hope of visiting my friend Mandy in Greensboro!
• rain
• broken convertible tops

Scarcity vs. Intimacy 1 (week 1 - facebook fast)

It's been a week since I declared online my facebook fast for the month of July.  I'm happy to report that on two or three occasions this week, I was tempted to check facebook to see what everyone was up to (and add my witty two cents worth to status updates) and I remembered my resolve and didn't get online.  However, in baseball terms, I think it would be fair to say that I've batted about 25. (I'm not into sports other than cycling, so I think that perfect is 1000, right?)  I confess that I've checked my News Feed at least once (if not twice) each and every day.  Sure, I haven't played (or even cheated) at Words With Friends, or spent hours of time reading everyone's posts and sharing articles, witty memes, or looking at all the wonderful summer fun photos y'all post.  

But still, I realize that I'm addicted.  It's surface-y fun that can sometimes go deeper...but not really.  I'm not transparent on facebook, and sometimes lately, I've been falsely upbeat and cheerful when I was really the opposite.  Y'all haven't known how hard the last few weeks have been for me.  It's not the kind of thing you post on a facebook status.

"(5pm)Rebecca L is trying to get out of bed today.  Divorce sucks." 

or

"Rebecca L's heart feels like it's being shredded with a cheese grater.  Who knew paperwork could be so hard!"   

The whole purpose of this resolve is to be more intentional, and honest with relationships - both with my friends, and with God.  The deep parts of my heart long for the connections that I avoid when I give myself an anesthetic dose of facebook.

Even in my failure, I have gotten a few things done.  

1.  I have finally finished reading Larry Crabb's difficult to read book Shattered Dreams.  (it only took a 18 months...give or take a week).  

2.  I've also finally finished Jed's Christmas present...from last year (or maybe the year before?? eek!)

3.  And I spent most of the day yesterday in my Spare 'Oom going through memory after memory (after memory).   I've lived in my sweet Haven for over 500 days.  The door to that room has been opened for a total of *maybe* 50 minutes during that time.  Spending the day there, and leaving the door open on purpose overnight is kind of a big deal.

When I first braved the far land of Spare 'Oom earlier this week, I found a notebook filled with sermon notes from the 1990's!  (I know!  Ancient historical artifacts, right?)

Here is one that kinda blew me away, and seems to fit this post. 

Scarcity vs. Intimacy

Long for a limp

"You can have everything, God...except:

  *my ability to hold people off

  *my ability to run away

  * my stubbornness

  * my rested soul

  * my fear

  * my anger

  * my loneliness

(I'm guessing Steve Shores was preaching that week because I wrote next "Thank you Steve for opening up")

Jacob - one who reaches too far

Isaac must have been somewhat deaf as well

If I hold back from God, so also He will hold back from me - not by choice, but because I will not let Him love me freely.

In our grief, He brings us to a place where we have no choice to submit - O that we could be there always!

(Then I ask God) Why did you have to hurt my back?

(Maybe the answer follows??). Thank you for your affliction for the revealing of part of your purpose for me

Stubbornness gets in the way!!

- because of our stubbornness they only come to blind us further

- we don't see God's blessing

- we don't see other people's stories

What is MY name???

God fights with us when we hold onto our things.

God fights FOR us when we give all to Him.

To prevail with God is to cling and open up

Limp - he needed a reminder

1.  Show me my characteristic response to pain

2.  Show me how that makes me self sufficient

3.  Show me what repentance looks like

4.  Help me humble myself and actually repent

5.  Give me the grace to keep walking

Let's see what happens with week 2. 

Becca, definitely a descendant of Jacob.

Spilling the Beans

I confess that I didn't remember that this hurricane lamp globe was bottomless.  So, therefore, when I lifted the globe, I accidentally spilled the beans lentils.  It's hard to tell from the before picture how yellow the lentils had become in just a year's time.  They needed to be stirred, shaken up and re-positioned so that the greener lentils in the center could be exposed and the yellowed ones removed or replaced or moved to a place of lesser consequence.   I have been awkward most of my life, so this doesn't come as a surprise to some; and thankfully, I've never been one to cry over spilled milk, beans, or lentils.

But, confessions have been a different story.  Hidden in shame and fear (neither of which come from our Abba), sins un-confessed have a way of yellowing our hearts and hiding the life that longs to emerge.

I recently "spilled the beans" to a friend.  It was the most glorious thing.  I found life, and direction in being honest and forthcoming with  my struggle.  It wasn't an easy struggle to admit to.  Shame tempted me to keep it in. (I'm SO glad that Love's temptation for freedom was even greater!)

When it came time to stir the lentils encased in the other globe, I used a dustpan to catch the little buggers, keeping them from scattering to the floor and getting all sort of things entangled within. (cat hair, dust, cat hair...)   

...which reminds me that boundaries, like dust pans, are good.  We need to be careful and make sure that we're safe with the person we are confessing to.  

James  5:15  Therefore, confess your sins to one another and pray for one another, that you may be healed.  The prayer of a righteous person has great power as it is working.

Have you cultivated a relationship where it's safe to spill your beans?

Sliced Bread vs. The Bread of Life

BACKGROUND:

Earlier this week I was speaking to a mentor about divorce in situations where there has been emotional and physical abuse. A question had been raised in my heart during the Divorce Care study.

I have been experiencing this feeling of (what I thought was) compassion that was getting in the way of my resolve to divorce Kip. "What is driving it?", he asked. "Is it worry about what others might think, or is it concern for his welfare?"

I had to answer "a little bit of both". How can I divorce a virtual invalid?  (note:  He's not an invalid per say, however, he does have a significant amount of alcohol induced dementia and may not recover)

My mentor then talked about a beautiful masterpiece (our marriage) that was torn into two pieces by Kip's violence, and how it seemed to him that I was using all this effort to try to make my half fit the half Kip destroyed.  (yeah, that hit me)

...And then truth set me free. I remembered his mother telling me that the reason he was heavily medicated was because of continued violence in the hospital. How can I think of fighting my terror of him just to go put myself in danger??

...and the realization that my history of being abused was affecting my thoughts and actions.  I was romanticizing his condition.

We prayed and each hung up the phone....and I read in Romans 8 as I was then encouraged to do.

With a wild hair I go to The Message to see how it is translated there.

Romans 8:12-15
So don't you see that we don't owe this old do- it- yourself life one red cent. There's nothing in it for us, nothing at all. The best thing to do is give it a decent burial and get on with your new life. God's Spirit beckons. There are things to do and places to go!
This resurrection life you received from God is not a timid, grave- tending life. It's adventurously expectant, greeting God with a childlike "What's next, Papa?"

The romanticizing I was doing was "do-it-yourself" wisdom....that didn't come from Abba.

HERE'S WHERE THE BREAD COMES IN
The truth of what my friend was telling me, and what scripture showed me continued to take root in my heart until Saturday after I closed the store and went across the street to buy some groceries.  I approached the aisle I had avoided for almost a year since I realized that sliced bread (of all things) was a trauma trigger.  I had been making sandwiches for my lunch the night Kip snapped and unleashed all of his anger on my heart with his words, threatened to kill me and shoved me repeatedly into counters, walls, doors, and to the ground.

You know, and I know, that making a sandwich had nothing to do with Kip. I was just part of the background that triggered the memory.  "the best thing to do is give it a decent burial and get on with your new life..." echoed in my heart. It was time to let that truth displace the roots of fear that have controlled me and kept me from making any kind of sandwich for almost 18 months.

So there I am at the grocery store on a Saturday night, gingerly approaching the bread aisle.  (do the other shoppers have a clue about how fast my heart is racing?)  It seemed like it took forever to choose a brand that I never purchased during my marriage to Kip. It then, took the same amount of time to resolve to *not* purchase ice cream. (I wasn't successful with putting orchid #6 back in the flower dept, though...baby steps?)

And on the way home...I wept.  I was numb, going through the motions, while I made pimento cheese, numb as I spread it on the bread, and then, for a brief moment, filled with sorrow as I toasted it on the grill press.

Just to be able to eat it, I had to cut it in a way I never have before.   Victory?  Yeah...sort of....keep reading.

Afterwards, no amount of anesthetic activities (episode after episode on Netflix, York Peppermint Patties, mind numbing electronic solitaire ...) made it work.  So, I stayed numb until I fell asleep.

5:00am. I'm awake after a school based nightmare. Do I go to Abba with my fears?  No. I watch another episode on NetFlix and doze.

My 9:30, time to leave the house for church alarm goes off. I haven't even showered. Somehow I made it to church. I'm offered communion, everyone else has finished. I see the bread, and my heart melts.  The numbness melts away.

My body was broken making a sandwich. Jesus was broken like he fortold during the Last Supper when he took the bread and broke, giving thanks. He suffered, and He gave me hope by becoming the Bread of Life. Here was life being presented to me after an evening and morning of choosing death.

Romans 8:7-10
Focusing on the self is the opposite of focusing on God. Anyone completely absorbed in self ignores God, ends up thinking more about self than God. That person ignores who God is and what he is doing. And God isn't pleased at being ignored.
But if God himself has taken up residence in your life, you can hardly be thinking more of yourself than of him. Anyone, of course, who has not welcomed this invisible but clearly present God, the Spirit of Christ, won't know what we're talking about. But for you who welcome him, in whom he dwells-- even though you still experience all the limitations of sin-- you yourself experience life on God's terms.

I'm surrendering again. I still have wounds that need to be sacrificed. I still need to remember how helpless I am without Jesus.

...and there's still an awful lot of bread left, and it still looks a bit bigger than life. (even though it isn't)

Swollen Feet

As I sat here on the couch in the all too familiar position with my ankle and foot wrapped and propped, I needed courage. I needed up lifting. I thought I needed comfort.

I turned back to Deuteronomy because I was so encouraged by what I had seen there earlier in the week.

This is the first and maybe only verse I saw:

Deuteronomy 8:4
Your clothing did not wear out on you and your foot did not swell these forty years.

Kip's last and most physically damaging attack was just days before my 40th birthday. That was the night I received the injury to my ankle - over a year and a half ago.

"...and your foot did not swell these 40 years."

So my first, and decidedly wrong thought was "What!?! I turn 40 and now, God, you are suddenly going to remove your protection?? Really?!"

what I may also have been thinking was "Don't you love me?"

I know my thinking is wrong. I know I'm not being rational.  But I can't convince my heart of that yet.

This morning, I am awake quite early. I know I need to give scriptures another shot...but I'm not ready. Maybe I can listen to an audio version? I have James and the two letters to the Thessalonians on my iPod.

I laugh now at how quickly I dismissed James. (How quickly I forget!). I thought "There is NO WAY I'm listening to that!" and speedily clicked on the Thessalonians file.

James has a reputation for being harsh. I still was longing for the coddling of a sweet, comforting, feel good passage.  Surely Thessalonians would fit the bill.

I don't think I really listened to it. My heart was still closed. But I did think through and list the facts- even if my heart didn't believe, my head still knows that the truth will set me free.

1. God didn't want me to have a sprained ankle that still wouldn't be healed 18 months later.
2. He is good, period.
3. God's character never changes.
4. There is bitterness and contempt in my heart.

As I went about my incredibly busy day, I had to stop from time to time to remember breathe. In those moments, I thought about my list.

It wasn't until 7 tonight, as I was talking things through with my counselor that my heart and thoughts finally collided.

As I ticked off my list to him, confessing my sin, he commented on how it made him think of a passage in ...

wait for it....James!

I know. Right?

Looking for the verse, I scanned chapter 1 and began reading out loud here:

James 1:12-17
Blessed is the man who remains steadfast under trial, for when he has stood the test he will receive the crown of life, which God has promised to those who love him.

The immediacy of my conviction was heart breaking. I could barely see what I was reading through my tears.

If you are reading this, I have trusted you with the knowledge of the incredibly painful and traumatizing trials that Abba has brought me through in my marriage. You know of the intense emotional abuse and the final physical beating that caused me to flee my home. You know of the struggles I have had with fear and having to create a safety plan. And you also know of the many incredible ways that Abba has nested me, cared for me, and provided for me as he helped me to withstand my trials.

James 1:13-15
Let no one say when he is tempted, “I am being tempted by God,” for God cannot be tempted with evil, and he himself tempts no one. But each person is tempted when he is lured and enticed by his own desire. Then desire when it has conceived gives birth to sin, and sin when it is fully grown brings forth death.

I was convicted of the way my heart blamed God for this continued reminder of my hurt. I so long to start completely over with a clean slate. No more trauma triggers, no more painful memories, no more brokenness. I'm certain if I lived in another time, I would be one of those ladies who medicinally took opium - more to escape and forget. But I'm actually grateful I was born in a time that domestic abuse is known about. I knew to get out. I knew the cycle wouldn't stop if I became more of a doormat to keep from triggering one of his rages. I'm grateful there are people around me who are aware of domestic abuse who didn't condemn me for leaving, but instead offered me the safe haven of their friendship and support.

God isn't vindictive.

And at the same time, He isn't an enabling God. I wanted spiritual comfort food when I turned to scripture last night. I wanted the equivalent of spiritual cheesecake dripping with hot fudge.

Abba knew, is his loving wisdom that I needed James chapter 1.

James 1:16-17
Do not be deceived, my beloved brothers. Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change.

So, I'm grateful for this thorn, this swollen ankle that hurts every afternoon. I'm grateful for the way it makes me rest at the end of the day by putting my feet up.  Putting my feet up sets the scene for taking the time to listen to my heart - to get it in a position to receive the good and perfect gifts Father has for me...in all of their forms.

My One Desire

I have my weekend alarm set to go off at 8:27 a.m - 3 hours later than my weekday alarm. This morning, when Misty Edwards first sang "All consuming fire / You're my one desire-" I quickly hit the snooze button saying angrily in my head "No you're not! My one desire is to sleep!"

And with that statement, it was as if I had slapped the face of Jesus-hard.

I finally got to church (30 minutes late!) and took these sermon notes:
VC Sermon Notes - 4/14/13
Confessions

Deuteronomy 7:17-21
“If you say in your heart, ‘These nations are greater than I. How can I dispossess them? ’ you shall not be afraid of them but you shall remember what the Lord your God did to Pharaoh and to all Egypt, the great trials that your eyes saw, the signs, the wonders, the mighty hand, and the outstretched arm, by which the Lord your God brought you out. So will the Lord your God do to all the peoples of whom you are afraid. Moreover, the Lord your God will send hornets among them, until those who are left and hide themselves from you are destroyed. You shall not be in dread of them, for the Lord your God is in your midst, a great and awesome God.

My giants in the land:
Idolatry - wanting to feel better
(Ice cream, laziness)
Not trusting God
Ingratitude
Forgiveness
Fear

Just like The Lord helped His children remove the giants from their land "little by little", He will never forsake me in this life process of sanctification.

Deuteronomy 7:21-22
You shall not be in dread of them, for the Lord your God is in your midst, a great and awesome God. The Lord your God will clear away these nations before you little by little. You may not make an end of them at once, lest the wild beasts grow too numerous for you.

I promise I was listening to the sermon while I read on ahead and discovered how Abba would get me through this 'terrible two' quality in my heart:

Deuteronomy 8:2-3
And you shall remember the whole way that the Lord your God has led you these forty years in the wilderness, that he might humble you, testing you to know what was in your heart, whether you would keep his commandments or not. And he humbled you and let you hunger and fed you with manna, which you did not know, nor did your fathers know, that he might make you know that man does not live by bread alone, but man lives by every word that comes from the mouth of the Lord.

Praying that I will hunger and thirst for righteousness, manna and living water - and that my one desire would be to press in closer to the One who saved me because of His beautiful gift of grace.

I Scream, You Scream, We All Scream For Ice Cream

I have a confession. I love BlueBell Ice Cream, especially Pralines and Cream and Mint Chocolate Chip. I adore any brand of Coffee flavored creamy goodness. Ben and Jerry's Chunky Monkey is another staple; and when I really want to be pampered, Talenti's mint gelato is the gift in a reusable plastic jar that keeps on giving.

After a rough day at school (and there have been many of them the last few months) I would long for that moment of indulgence at the end of the day. It became a ritual. I'd nuke the carton just a few seconds to soften it and release the flavors, dish up several spoonfuls in my favorite coffee cup, then curl up on my cushy sofa with a super soft fleece blanket. It got to where I skipped supper all together - and on the worst of nights I'd have two cupfuls. In a bind, a mint chocolate cookie Cook Out milk shake would do...I'd order chicken strips as a pretend supper, but we all know what I was actually getting.

You get the point. You might also get why I felt this year was the year to give up something for Lent. In giving up ice cream, I found a challenge greater than I had experienced. I was so bent on feeling good. I had become so good at numbing the pain of my shattered marriage, that when my anesthesia was removed, I became so much more aware of the contrast.

I became more aware, too, of how often I would seek to get lost in that fun, overwhelmed full feeling where everything is intensely beautiful and exciting. The same feelings I got from my ice cream addiction, I find in other places.

Through choosing gratitude in all things, I realize now that there are two types of these orgasms of the heart.

There's the empty kind that comes from escape. Escape through ice cream. Escape through decorating. Escape through yarn. Escape through blaming. Avoidance through busy-ness, through procrastination and the adrenaline rush of 'catching up'.

And there's a *full* but sometimes sad kind that is found during worship and that comes only through sober surrender and the long exhale of discipline.

Surrender to the things I avoid.

Surrender to the challenges I long to escape.

Surrendering to my limitations, my hurts.

I don't have what it takes to survive in and of myself. I don't have what it takes to feel better in the midst of my hurts. I only have access to The One who had mercy on me, the One whose heart is filled to the brim with grace and undeserved adoration.

I only have Emmanuel.

He is the quieter, longer lasting, sunrise beam that warms my heart from within, filled with momentum and desire...and sometimes earth shattering tears.

I love how I feel when I get that perfect bowl of ice cream. Decorating my haven is a sometimes exciting pastime. There is nothing wrong with fully and completely enjoying these. Abba made us to enjoy His creation. He gives us these joys as His Blessing.

But as Buechner points out in his book The Magnificent Defeat, when I choose to steal those blessings like Jacob did with his father, even honey tastes bitter. Jacob lost his relationship with his brother when he stole his blessing and birthright. In contrast, the blessing Jacob begged for and received after wrestling with God all night was so much sweeter, and it was come by honestly.

Song of Songs 2:3-7

As an apple tree among the trees of the forest,
so is my beloved among the young men.
With great delight I sat in his shadow,
and his fruit was sweet to my taste.
He brought me to the banqueting house,
and his banner over me was love.
Sustain me with raisins;
refresh me with apples,
for I am sick with love.
His left hand is under my head,
and his right hand embraces me!
I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem,
by the gazelles or the does of the field,
that you not stir up or awaken love
until it pleases.

May I seek to stir up blessings only through the struggle to press in to my Savior in the midst of my struggles, rather than to indulge and escape.

Broken legs?

I seem to remember "he makes me lie down in green pastures" of Psalm 23 could refer to a shepherd's compassionate breaking of a wandering lamb's leg so that he will learn not to stray.

Friday I strayed from the fold into the lands of Fear, Anxiety, and Faithlessness. I sent out an email plea to all my girlfriends asking if one of them could take me to Baptist to visit the eye specialist tomorrow. I didn't think I had the courage to go alone. I was worried about the outcome-or lack of outcome.

I was tempted to think of my physical self as irreparable, forgetting (again) Abba's redemptive Power, compassion, and enough-ness.

Overnight I became stricken with a virus:  cough, very sore throat, fever, and runny nose - almost everything in the NyQuil commercial.  (edit:  turns out it was the flu...but I didn't know that at the time I wrote this)

Just the thought that there is a way out of having to go see the specialist tomorrow afternoon is comforting. Maybe my fever won't be gone. I'll go to a family doctor in the morning and she'll send me back to bed for the remainder of the week. Maybe not likely, but possible.

For every temptation we are provided a way out...and even Jesus asked for a cup to pass him by.

That's not the case here. But even unviable options are options.

Praying for peace, healing, and renewed heart-thoughts.

~Rebecca