Forgiveness, Mercy, Grace and Reconciliation are steps to eternity...

It has taken some time to decide if this is a post I wanted to share.  It is a peek into my heart.  A summary of some life lessons over the last 30 years.  Then, there have been the recent conversations with various kiddos, discussions about what lessons can we learn from each experience, because God can use everything.  In each experience, we can choose to be bitter or better.  Then, the encouraging words from one of the few people I shared this post with, I just want to give them a glimpse of the work God has and is doing in my heart because they see me walking a hard road.  The final bit of encouragement came when discussing those lessons that can be gleaned from each experience with my kiddo(s) and God whispered in my heart that sometimes, they aren't new lessons but "drills."  Much like math drills and fire drills.  The kind that keep your skills sharp and honed. It isn't about learning the lesson so you don't have to learn it again. Our Spiritual skills need to be practiced and honed in such a way, that we develop "spiritual muscle memory".  So our first response/reaction is what Jesus would literally do, extend grace, forgiveness, patience, mercy, understanding, kindness.  So here goes...


In my quiet and prayer time as I wrestled out yet another issue with God, He whispered a memory from my adolescent/teen years. 

It was a season, I loved to read. I read anything I could get my hands on.  I especially liked Reader's Digest and Guidepost.  Fortunately, my mom was willing to renew the subscriptions for me for years.  I have no idea if she ever read them, but I did, cover to cover.  This memory God whispered was of a story of a man who forgave the murderer of his child.  Not only did he forgive the murderer, but he would eventually begin to visit the prison. He developed a relationship with the person who tore his family apart, shared the Gospel and eventually led him to Christ.  When it came to the time for his release, he was there and welcomed him into his new life as a free man and into his home.  The memory God whispered was the silent prayer in my very naïve teen heart...I want to be that kind of Christian.  A noble prayer for a young, un-experienced in life teenager.

But God didn't stop there.  Because before He started down the memory lane with me, He was reminding me of His Word.  You see there was Saul (Paul).  He was despicable.  He persecuted Christians, until God shook things up and got his attention.  Saul (Paul) who eventually led many to Christ, shared the Gospel, suffered for his faithfulness to Jesus.  He became the persecuted and counted it joy.  But there is another story that fits right in the middle of there, maybe not chronologically, but fit it does...the point where there is sinning, recognition and repentance happens.  It is the story of the Prodigal Son.  At the point when he is in the pit of his sin and God reveals to him His love, grace and mercy.  Saul (Paul) returns to his Creator (Father).  A celebration happened, and not every one was happy about it either. 

God started showing me that although the "stories" in His Word don't reveal all that was happening at that given moment, when looked together as a whole and individually, you can get a pretty good grasp of humanity from all different perspectives.  We all sin and are in the muck of it when God grabs the opportunity to get our attention, He offers us the possibility of returning HOME because working for Him is better than eating after the pigs.  He will celebrate and rejoice on our return, while some will grumble.  They might grumble because they fail to see all sin is sin...they may grumble because they have forgotten where they were once before, or maybe they don't want to remember.  Or they may grumble because they are in the season of realizing the importance of making good choices and the consequences of not doing so and their focus is so intense on these new convictions they are unable to step back and see all the different "projects" God has happening.  It is easy to not realize we are all in different stages and the lessons of life do not happen in a particular order.  As a result, sometimes others are unable to rejoice at the time.  But Saul (Paul) and the prodigal son don't allow concern for what others will do or say stop them, they listen to God and trust Him and move forward.  It is so easy to just look at one story and see the "simple" lesson revealed.  You can ask yourself am I the prodigal son?  the brother?  the father?  Am I Saul, the murderer and persecutor?  Or am I the persecuted?  How does this apply to me today?  All very good questions.  But looked at together, you see the same story being repeated from different perspectives, with different words but speaking the same message of forgiveness, mercy, grace and reconciliation.

And I consider the memory of the naïve heart that says, I hope I can be that kind of person if I ever were to find myself in a situation like "that."  Easy to think as a teenager, because that is the season of invincibility and nothing like that will truly happen.  Translated it looks like being a kind, generous, tender hearted and noble person.  To be that kind of person the father was, to have that kind of heart, means a special kind of journey.  One that is not easy.  The story makes it all look so neat and tidy.  It doesn't give a lot of background.  The story fits neatly in just a few pages, and is inspiring.  Faith like that father's is a process.  He has been in the pit with the pigs.  He knows forgiveness.  He knows what it is like to be not forgiven and to be forgiven.  He knows estrangement and reconciliation.  He also knows grief and loss.  He knows anger and the desire for life to not be so hard.  He has wrestled with the letting go and not having control.  He knows the love of His Heavenly Father and to who He belongs.  But he doesn't just know these things, these things were wrestled out with His God.  It isn't a humanly natural thing to embrace the murderer of your child. Not when you are faced with daily reminders of what will never be experienced.  Not even when you fast forward into the future and are faced with the grandchildren you will never have and all your friends are sharing the pictures and stories of theirs, and there is a twinge and longing that dares to surface.  A voice that begs to remind you of what was lost and an inner discipline that chooses to not look at what was lost but at what has been gained.  An inner discipline to choose to have an eternal perspective in the midst of a mortal life.  There was a soul searching, on your knees with God work being done process.  It didn't just happen in the days after the murder.  It was the sum of his life experiences and walk with the Lord from whenever it started.  Forgiveness, mercy, grace and reconciliation are learned through experience.  They are practiced in the little things when we recognize our own guiltiness of doing the same things.  They are stretched and strengthened through the tougher challenges and are only possible because of God and His love for us.  Then when a day comes and you are faced with what many would declare, "you are perfectly in your own right to practice some but not all four of those acts," you realize that in of yourself you can't, but in God you can.  You can release the person, the situation into God's very capable hands because He loves each and every one of His creations.  Each and everyone of His children and they were fearfully and wonderfully and uniquely made. If He could use Saul (Paul), then it isn't for me or you to say He can't use this too.  It isn't easy, but all that practice of turning it over to God is what has been training me/you for this day.  It is possible.  While many may ponder and wonder, a simple truth I learned not so terribly long ago is what I reflect on, His Grace is sufficient for each of us in the measure we need it for each circumstance.  His Grace, His Manna, He provides for each of us according to our need, each and every day.

And then God fast forwards me to the story of the father who made a hard choice.  His son and son's friend were in the sea and there was only one life preserver.  Only one could be saved.  His son, knew Jesus well.  His friend did not.  He made the choice of eternity.  His son, entered eternity with his Savior and the friend, as a result, experienced forgiveness, mercy, grace and reconciliation.

Then He reminds me of the season of nightmares.  The kind that shook this very young, at the time, momma to her knees.  Always the same theme...  Persecution at its worst in my dreams.  Prayers to God to take the dreams away.  Then asking what it is He wants me to know or learn?   In these nightmares, I face a choice.  A choice that demands I deny Christ or my child/children will be killed or tortured in front of me till I submit....the scenario always a little different.  I. Just. Can't. Deny. My. Savior.  and I always wake up at the point where I am looking in their eyes wanting them to understand why.  Why I can't save them.  Why I can't deny my Lord and Savior.  What bothered me the most was the question, do they understand why?  Do they understand I love them with all my heart, but this one thing I can not do for them?  I asked God how could I face such a horrific moment and my children not feel rejected, not cry out in anger and rage and rebellion.  How to prevent them from becoming angry and rejecting HIM themselves and not be bitter from my choice.  Then He whispered this answer: Live your life in such a way that they know.  They know you love them.  They know you love Me.  Teach them, mentor them, raise them up in Me and then you have nothing to worry about because I will take care of the rest.  Raise them up with an eternal perspective.  I work all things for good for those who love Me.  He taught me to focus on forgiveness, mercy, grace and reconciliation.  To look with an eternal perspective, knowing that God works all things together for His Glory... and in the end, that is what happens when we all gather together in eternity, we give Him the Glory. 

Think... Another new thing in our house AND it is working in UnexpectedWays!!

I have heard this acronym over the years.  But several months ago, it was revisited in our house. 

Before that even happened, last summer became the summer of "stop and think." 

Kids were doing crazy, reckless things and oopsie daisies were happening and I thought I was going to go bald from pulling my hair out before I ever turned gray!

A kiddo, a dear sweet lady and I visited about this months ago...it was like aha light bulbs went off.  Life was good.  Then fast forward and some of my kids hit new stages in personalities, quirks and behaviors.  The kind that can blind side a mother and she has NO. IDEA. HOW. TO. RESPOND.  It is wrong, but how to explain it?  How to teach something different?  Some concepts are big and vague and hard to explain to kids.  Hard for adults to discuss, there is just a knowing. 

So visiting with this dear sweet lady and she remembers "THINK" from our months ago conversation.  HUGE LIGHT BULB moment.  LIFE. HAS. NOT. BEEN. THE. SAME. in a very good way. 

All the kids have been taught it.  When there is an annoyance, we just say "Think."  Sometimes, it is pretty easy to figure out, but other times it takes some thinking. 

Is it True? is pretty clear cut. 

Is it Helpful?  or sometimes Is it Honest?  There is a difference between True and Honest sometimes.

Is it Inspired? but that can be difficult for a kid to grasp the concept of so we added Is it Important? 

One of our issues is correcting a slip of the tongue..is it really important to address every little slip?  Does it derail the flow of things?  Which leads into...

Is it Necessary?  Maybe it is True, maybe at times it could be Helpful, and Important but is it Necessary?  In our case, sometimes it is a distraction, slows progress down, just don't need to go there right now.

Is it Kind?  How is it making the other person feel?  All those other questions come into play as well...distracting? slowing things down?  preventing things from happening?  Frustrating someone else while doing all the above? In this case, how can we do/say this and be kind?

Loving it !!! 

Only a few eye rolls have happened so far. 

Paracord for Antigua

The last couple of months I have struggled. 
I have struggled with this mess...

And this mess...

My 10 year old disappears for hours on end to his room.  It is a strange and unsettling feeling to not have him underfoot, running in and out the door.  A little frustrating when there is math to do or books to be read.

Then there are the nights, I go into peak on him and discover him still awake.  Hard at work creating or researching and learning a new pattern.  

But my through it all my heart swells..

Ever since the missions team visited Awana one night to explain their upcoming trip to Antigua to build a hard court at a church he has been a man with a mission.  Their visit to Awana was to drum up excitement for the missions offering to be collected for a month.  They happened to mention that some of the money would be used to purchase prizes for a carnival night during the mission trip.  My young man dreamed of making para cord bracelets for the team to give away.  A dream he has not let go.  So while I do ask for the occasional clean up and vacuum and insist on lights out, I am very proud of this young man.  He willingly takes breaks to do some math and read when I request him to, but when my requests have been fulfilled he is back to work.  He is a young man with a very big heart, generous and thoughtful.  He even sold some creations as a fundraiser to help pay for all the supplies.  Sometimes, he just couldn't help himself and he would just give away his creations just to love on someone.  Each bracelet has a story.  Each made with love and thought to the color combinations and type of pattern.  Though each child may not know all of this, it is our prayer they will be blessed and feel the love of the Lord

His endeavor has created a bond with his oldest sister as she is going on the trip.  They have brainstormed together.  She has patiently listened as he explained each bracelet to her.  She has encouraged him as he questioned whether each was of high enough quality to give as a gift.  Would the color combination be liked?  Earlier this week she took him shopping to buy more para cord.  Something this Momma has stood back and watched.  I have held myself back, not interfering, because it has been a beautiful thing to watch unfold.  To be honest, sometimes when Momma gets involved she redirects and changes the flow unintentionally.  It is a wondrous thing to provide tools, encouragement and stand back to see what will happen.  

There are only a few hours left, and more will be added....  And I am sure I may have to say lights out at some point tonight, but this is what is flying to Antigua tomorrow.  The attached verse is: 

Romans 6:23 For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.  

One of the very first verses children learn in Awana...

Sparks-A-Rama and sweet conversations

This year, The Man begged and pleaded to do Sparks-A-Rama.  We were not sure what to do.  We knew DaddyO would not be available to take The Man.  Serious skepticism that I could handle the venture.  So The Man took it upon himself to come up with a solution.  He went to big sis, Fun Girl.

The Man:  How much do you make an hour? 
Fun Girl: answers...I don't remember the amount
The Man:  Will you take me to Sparks A Rama?  I will pay you lost wages. 
(Fun Girl life guards on Saturdays)

FG could not turn down such a sweet request.  She told him if we couldn't find a ride, she would take the day off.  Well the day came, I was doing better and there were people to help if needed.  So I took The Man.  I loved watching him every minute I was able.  His smile was infectious.  I didn't make it the whole time.  The noise and activity wore me down and I went to the car for the last 30 minutes or so.  It was so worth it. 
My favorite part of the day was when we were driving to Sparks-A-Rama.  He started talking to me about heaven.  He asked some questions. Then there were some more questions.  There in the parking lot we prayed together and he asked Jesus to be His Savior.  So, so, so, happy to have been with him that morning!!

Getting ready to enter the gym!

Lined up and waiting to start Sparky Crawl!

Grabbing the pin !

Scared and Sleepless

I went on a retreat this last weekend.
I don't remember when my head started hurting.  Before the retreat. 
Late Sunday night I just "couldn't" anymore.  Left the tv remote with the girls and went to bed.
I cried, and the pain worsened.
Fun Girl found me...
She tried to call her dad. He was at a hockey game with the boys.  Unsuccessful, she called our friend Dara. 
They tried to boss me out of bed...to another room where I wouldn't hear water running.  The goal was to get me in a warm bath to help me relax and see if that would help.
Earlier in the day, Fun Girl and I were cruising through my essential oil book, she grabbed it and started reading. 
Not too long after, my room was scented with the oils of frankencense, lavender, mint, "Stress Away", lemon, "Peace and Calming".
She was rubbing oils on my feet. 
I would like to say that was the cure all. 
I felt loved and cared for.  I felt guilty that my daughter was feeling so desperate and I was the cause.  I was soothed by the scent of the oils. 
Hubby was home soon after.  He was on the phone with the doctor, in spite of my protests.
Ice packs were suggested. 
And they worked.
They worked to the point I could sleep.
Late Sunday morning/early afternoon I woke.
My speech was a mess.
My leg was...well I don't know how to describe it...it just gets slightly heavier and less like my own leg.  Doesn't work or feel quite like my real leg is suppose to and yet it is my leg.

sigh

The headaches came back.  Not as severe.  But back nonetheless.
The hubs says he is coming home early from work to push for an appointment with the doctor.  Says he is going to push for hospitalization or something.  It has been 3 months.  And we have no concrete answers. Healing from a concussion can take 2 years.  Headaches might come and go for years.  No appointments with specialists that could possibly do anything or know anything.

I have hung up my car keys.  My vision is wacky.  My speech is hit and miss.
I have trouble following busy conversations... I even had trouble following the speaker during our retreat. 

We have no answers. 

And for the first time in my life, I don't know what questions to ask.
There are quite a few that have told me they think this is stress related.

Yet the whole situation is stressful.

I haven't blogged, because I have no answers. 

I don't know how to explain this state of being. My broken speech.  If I have time to form my words in my head before I speak, I can for the most part speak correctly.  My search for words.  My frustration.  I sometimes catch myself wondering if this is what my mom feels like with Alzheimer's or any of the other people I have met and seen as they struggle to communicate. 

I think through what I am going to do before I do it.  Sometimes I freeze in place to plan how to move....a curb will cause me to stop and ponder the process of stepping down.  The fear that takes over, that I will fall and hurt my head further. 

My eyes are sometimes slower to focus.  The world takes on an iridescent 3D appearance at times.  It just shimmers and moves and yet I know it is suppose to be stationary.  I stop and wait till I can bring it into focus and hopefully, the world stops moving quite so quickly and lets me catch up. 

In all honesty, I don't know how to pray.....
Praying for healing would be the practical request. 
Yet my practical side recognizes, God's plan might be a different path.
So I sit in silence and wait.  Wait and rest.  Try to learn what He might teach me in my silence.
And sometimes I cry.
Sometimes, I get glimpses in the changes He is doing....
*brothers who fight less and learn to work things out a bit better...just so mom isn't stressed or overwhelmed by the loudness
*maturity and a stronger work ethics being developed
*new skills learned
*less busy mom means more one on one time
*new growths in relationships
*new relationships
*seeing the heart of a prayer warrior develope in The Man

I find myself in the quiet of the night wondering, praying, alone in my head......
Maybe tomorrow I will be better....

Picking up where I left off....

I don't know where to begin.  One of the reasons why I have been silent.  I don't know even how to categorize all the feelings, thoughts and ramblings that occur in my mind.  I went to Colorado with my Mom and Henry.  My sister had done the initial nursing home hunt with her husband.  They narrowed down the options.  God went before us in all of this, making the process easier.  Easier because He narrowed the options down for us.  Easier because He made choice clear.  Easier because there wasn't a lot required of us.  The work in of itself was easy.  For that I am so very grateful and humbled that He made the work easy. 

Because the otherside of it was not and is not easy. 

Alzheimer's is not easy.  At any age it is not easy.  But at 64 years of age in a woman with the heart of a 20 year old (according to the doctors), it seems unreal and not fair.  I know, I know life is not fair.  In my household we have been dealing with dementia/Alzheimer's for awhile now.  There is humor to be found in the midst.  Joy that can be hung onto.  Dancing with Grandpa in a congo line while he does therapy.  Encouraging Great Granny to cooperate with the presence of great-grandchildren and brownies.  Watching movies and listening to stories....some so out there you know they are a tale as wild as can be imagined.  In the midst of it all, there is tenderness, love and compassion.  While we have traveled this road for several years, it has not been as shocking to our emotions and beings when we consider their age.  This path with my Mom is another altogether. 

I find myself needing to tell people she is ONLY 64.  She doesn't even quite fit in with the nursing home crowd.  She is too young.  Matter of fact, she sauntered off her "floor" in the first week, she followed someone out.  She had just had her hair done and was looking good and out she went and the alarms went off.  Oh my, I chuckled when I heard.  What else could I do?  Yes, she is a Great-Grandma, but she is young!  She walks me into the ground.  64!  That is 25 years from now for me.  My youngest kiddo would be 32. 

Her decline has been so rapid.  In some ways I think, wow! What a blessing....so as to not languish in this disease process.  While on the other hand, it is happening so quickly, I can't quite catch my breath.  I want to say stop! slow down!  Just a little bit more time.  Yet I know what is coming, I have watched this process for a while now.  I have talked with Hospice nurses, doctors, home health aides, etc. etc.  It is hard.  Beyond hard.

This past month I said Good-bye.  I have been grieving and struggling since summer.  But with moving Mom to Colorado to the nursing home, I knew in my heart it was good-bye.  I have locked in my heart each tender moment I could have with her.  Even curling up next to her laying my head on her shoulder while we watched a movie together. Doing my best to pack suprises for her and noting her joy upon discovering them.  Trying to include her in purchases for her new home and capturing her in hugs in Wal-Mart when she tried to "run away".  (btw Wal-mart is not the best place to take someone with Alzheimers.....can you say OVERWHELMING!).

I am ever so grateful for the past 5 years (I think) they have lived here in Kansas.   I moved to Kansas some 20+ years ago and am blessed to have had these past 5 years with my mom closer to me physically and relationally.  It breaks my heart to know this was good-bye.  I know there will be visits, but she will more than likely no longer know me.  The longer between visits, the less familiar a person is and her memories of me were already slipping.  I am already experiencing her absence...as I struggle with my health and major decisions, she was often the one I would turn to for prayers and support.  As her grandchildren struggled or were injured or sick, I would call for prayers.  When I found myself standing before a Goliath, she quietly stood/sat beside me and held my hand and I knew she was praying.  I  find myself hurting and struggling and I can't call my Mom anymore for her to join me in prayers.  We no longer are able to share verses being memorized and studied.   The tears come.  In the midst of the grief, I am grateful for this legacy.  I am grateful for the example she has set, the lessons she lived and taught, and for the example she is demonstrating as she clings to the habit of reading her Bible daily and listening to praise music... I just wish we had had more time.

Suprises, a double take and a double dose in learning about Compassion

We spent the day in the car again. 
A Thursday kind of day.
A late start in the morning, Awana the night before and it takes everyone a while to wind down and share their stories of the night.
Piano lessons and back and forth from home, because not everyone has to go.
In the back and forths, running Fun Girl to work.
Back home for a quick lunch.
Then to Bal-A-Vis-X.
Then to the grocery store to get the latest ad.
My day stops here.
I am lost in my own world as I sit in the car and wait for Hockey Player to run in, grab the ad and come back to me, stopped at the curb.  He comes to the door and says, someone fell. 
I quickly recall the vague thud I heard and start looking around.
A deep intake of my breath.
A "grandpa" is down  in the parking lot and 2 ladies were helping him.
I quickly put my hazard lights on, put the burb in park and tell the kids to stay.
I see the ladies are talking to him and I run inside to tell Customer Service someone has fallen.  They quickly send the managers out.
He is a little disoriented. His face is banged up and he is bleeding quite a bit from his scrapes.
He misjudged the curb/ground and face planted.
My heart was in my throat.
He just wanted to get in his car and drive home to the next block over where he lives in Assisted/Independent Living facility.
But he is so disoriented. 
Rides are offered. A chair is offered. Paper towels.  Someone got ice.
I ask him the name of where he lives.
Blessedness that it is, I am very familiar with his residence. I have family there. I quickly call.  They send over their Director of Nursing and instruct us to call an ambulance. 
The managers do that. 
I see he is being well cared for and try to gracefully exit.
I stop at the care facility to give them a first hand account for when he returns later on...as disoriented as he is he might not be able to tell them much.  Plus to let them know he has 2 bags of refrigerated items. 
All the while grateful he is well cared for and being watched out for. 
As I return my car, I hear one of children ask why I had to get out of the car and  help?
My eye brows shot up.
Because it was the right thing to do I am thinking.
I try to say because he needed help. 
But this kiddo, is grumpy.  Wanted to be at home.  So did I.  Just didn't get it.  Which for this kiddo when this stage of self centeredness has started it is really hard to refocus. 
I ask my children if they knew the story of the Good Samaritan. 
I was shocked when my younger two said no.
NO???
I gasped and did a double take. 
My brain went into over drive. How could that be? 
We read Bible stories.  We talk Bible stuff.  We memorize verses. We go to church.  They watch Bible videos.  How? But....?
I stop the bumbling around in my brain.
I share the story as I drive. 
I ask who was a good neighbor?  why? 
Now they all have heard the story and know.
But now, it is quiet and I can think.
It is just like I share at times with friends and my oldest. Just like I had shared that morning with a friend.  God doesn't always take us down the same path as the person next to us.  He has different lessons for us at different times. We don't learn his ways over night.  Sometimes there are even some slips and falls along the way, just like when a baby learns to walk and become a toddler.  Yes, my oldest were schooled in the story of the Good Samaritan.  Now so were my youngers.  My youngers on the other hand have been learning lessons that my olders are learning just now. 
Different people, different paths, different learning curves and lessons plans created by the Master Educator.  Patience and understanding and compassion for one another, for we don't know where the Lord has taken them, is taking them or will be taking them. 

Being able to see and more.........

Hmmm, driving home from Jenks, Oklahoma, I discovered home much of a MidWest girl I am.

 

 I like the wide open spaces. I love seeing the horizon that includes land and sky.

 

Not much for a landscape that includes lots of brick buildings, sidewalks and being underground. I have visited those places and was struck by how obstructed my view of God's creation was by all that man made.

 Some call me a city girl, because I am not much of a fan of dust and dirt and I am allergic to most things that pollinate.

In my fairy tail world missing dirt, dust and spiders, I am a Country Girl.

I like the views.

I enjoy gazing upon God's nightly paintings I the sky.

 

  But

I realized on the same drive I am the girl that likes daylight.

I don't like to drive in the dark.

 I don't like not being able to see the horizon.

  I like to know what is ahead.

I can say the same thing about Life.

I don't like the feeling that I am driving off into oblivion.

I don't like suprises. I want to know what is going to happen.

It is hard to trust the road is going to be there especially when speeding down the road at highway speeds or that nothing will jump out in front me.

Sometimes it is hard to trust that God really knows what He is doing.

Sometimes it is hard to know what it is God would have me to do.

 I fret and worry and pray God will get me home in one piece.

 It has gotten a little easier over the years, but not much. I just don't like it.

I don't like not being able to see what it is ahead.

And Each and Every Time 

I arrive, it is with a sigh of relief and a readiness to rest.

And a gladness that I am Home

I think Heaven is going to be at least a little bit, just like that.  

-

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dusty days

I was suprised last week by the sky.
I have to admit it was very unsettling to witness the dirtiness and dinginess of the skyline.
Used to clean, clear blue skies occassionally filled with fluffy clouds.

When storms are brewing, the skies are shades of gray and dark and sometimes, yellow.
It is okay because much needed moisture is on the way.

The sky this day promised nothing of the kind.

It was shades of browns and only promised dryness, dirt and thirstyness.

I caught myself wondering if this is what the Great Plains looked like during the Dust Bowl.
Gritty eyes, and the feel of dust on my skin after just a short time outside.  A short time meaning, the short distance between my vehicle and the door a couple of times because I ran a few errands.
I looked out back and saw our poor Gus.  A beautiful black fur coat was now coated in brown.  Even he was unable to escape the air and wind around us.  I didn't have the energy to let him in.  He would only shake and roll and create more cleaning.  So out he stayed, though I think a child or two may have rescued him and put him in the garage for a while. 

Yet in my sleepless nights of late, I can't help but think how much our spiritual lives can be illustrated in this one day.  My life.  In my sheltered, 25 square mile, little circle of the world I get covered by the dust of this world and bring it home.  The every day sameness, busyness and sometimes monotonous life gets to me and before long my life seems dusty, brown and dirty.  I long for something more and my focus is no longer on what is before me, I neglect the housekeeping of my heart and it gets dusty.

The dust

It gets in my eyes and affects how I see everything around me.  Instead of gratitude for my home and I see chores that just won't take of themselves.. Instead of a home filled with God's blessings, I see messes and monotony.

It makes me sneeze.  It is uncomfortable and my body tries to get rid of it.  My mind tries to reject the negative attitudes, but there is just enough lingering to..... 

Stir up my allergies. I become sick and weak in my attempts with the Lord and the simple act of breathing becomes difficult and it is work to get my focus back. 

Sometimes I need the help of medicine, a good dose of Divine intervention, to get me back on track.
 
In the meantime, my life just looks dingy and dry and thirsty. 

It is missing the crisp colors of freshness and renewal. 

Even in the dark days of adversity, a dusty spiritual life misses the promise of renewal and a thirst that is quenched.

Oh, don't let it be so...........

Then what princess am I ?

So, I can't leave well enough alone.  After realizing, Cinderella I am not, I started to wonder which princess I most like.  I have to admit, I don't feel much like a princess these days.  Not with a household of seven.  Princesses live lives of glamour, beautiful clothes, and travel.  They must, right?  That is what all the fairy tales paint it out to be.  Never mind that the England's new princess opts to do her own household chores right now.  She doesn't have kids.  William doesn't count.  I mean seriously, my life is most like Snow White and the seven dwarfs. 
Yet, when I spend time reflecting on the qualities of Snow White, the animals don't come peacefully into my home to help clean.  No, they come bounding in the door in the shape of a black lab, one that figures obstacles were meant to be mown over.  Doesn't matter if the obstacle is a pile of clean laundry.  The trash can is just a large food dish. 
Though, I do have a lot of little people around.  But they never put me in a glass box in sadness because I am "asleep" and they miss me.  Nooo, they shhhshhh each other out of fear of waking me.  I am beginning to think I resemble the old hag the most.  The scary one.  Seriously, I am not taking the nap cause I feel my most charming self.  They aren't shhhshhh each other out of love for me and my need for rest.  They are shhhshhh each other, so I will stay asleep, cause when I closed my eyes I was just as haggard as the old women in the story and just a mite grumpy.  They fear if I awake a bit too soon, I will still be an old hag.  They are hoping for a miracle, that I will awaken as Snow White. 
Like I said, I think I should have left things well enough alone. 

If we could only be Cinderella..

We have had a relapse around here.  There is something called Princess Syndrome that runs in my family.  Painful to admit.  For those of you who have not heard of this syndrome the symptoms are:
*an inability to see things that need to be picked up
*if said things are seen, there is an inability to pick up and put away these stray objects because it must be someone else's job.
*if these items are mine, well, someone else should do it for me, cause I am ever so busy. 
*a strong desire to laze about and live in a dream world
*beginning to compare one's self to Cinderella
*dreams of being whisked away to a far away castle where there were people who actually enjoyed doing things for you
*complaining or grumbling or just having in general a bad attitude while doing chores

It is painful to admit but I know these symptoms all too well.  I too have dwelled in the fantasy world of wishing my Prince Charming would appear and whisk me away to a castle.  I just loved the story of Cinderella growing up.  The fabulous rescue, the sense of "in your face" mean ol' stepmother and stepsisters.  No more serving you.  But I had an aha moment this summer when I watched one my own sweet princesses struggling to overcome this syndrome in her own life.  Unfortunately, it wasn't a gracious, delicate aha Cinderella moment, it was more like a clutzy stepsister aha moment.  Our Princess Syndrome behavior was nothing like Cinderella.  Cinderella was kind and gentle, she served others with forebearance.  She didn't like how she was treated but she didn't act out or rebel or return evil with evil.  She returned good for evil, she whistled while she worked (i.e. did all things without murmuring or complaining).  And in the end she was blessed by her King of Kings. 
Ouch...
So not Cinderella here, but I want to be with all my heart.

My guy...without always meaning to often turns me back to My GOD...

Taken earlier this summer.  All dressed up for work.  He like his job.  Then the other day he blew me away with the question, "What do you think about moving to Kansas City?"  Stopped my heart, questions ran through my mind faster than a wild Cheetah.  Then I paused and asked him why?  What was he thinking?  Whew, so glad I asked those questions instead of responding with my first thoughts. 

But, he has gotten me thinking.  When we first married, moving wasn't a big deal.  I had moved a lot.  I had never lived anywhere more than 3 years until my teen years.  I lived in Colorado for 5 years and then moved my senior year.  Though I never changed cities or states after that move, there were lots of moves from family homes to dorms to apartments and then I married.  Our first apartment and then our first home.  I seriously told him, I wanted to never move again.  A home to grow our family in.  It wasn't that I was tired of moving.  But the cost of buying a home overwhelmed me so much, I never wanted to do it again.    Now a family of seven, each person with their own stuff!  I can't imagine the hurdle of moving.  I can only imagine it taking a year to accomplish.  A year to pack and then unpack.  Oh, my! 

But this time when he asked me what I thought about moving, I didn't think about packing.  I thought about the kids, their friends, our doctors, our church, our hockey association, our homeschool network, our family.  I realized we would still be near family.  There would be new opportunities.  A lot of new transitions.  A lot of new opportunities to see God work.  Relationships take time to build. I really rely on the security of having known our physicians for the last 5-15 years depending on the family member.  There is a security in the known.  I would have to trust in the security of knowing the One who Knows.  For now, I am grateful my husband was just looking for a conversation.  He does this sometimes. Makes me wish he would try a slightly less startling opener.  At least I was able to sleep afterwards. 

It is only by God's grace...

Many have watched my family this last year and have commented on how we have pressed on. Last night as Dara gave my blog a much needed face lift. She put me on the spot and asked for a Bible verse.....Huh, you want me to choose just one. Then I visit Four Sisters Farm's blog this morning. My ever so dear friend posted this scripture....
This verse is the answer to all those who have bore witness to the last year.

And He has said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for power perfected in weakness." Most gladly, therefore, I will rather boast about my weaknesses, that the power of Christ may dwell in me. 2 Corinthians 12:9

2 school years ago, I took a Beth Moore class. Her studies are just amazing by the way. But early on in the classes, she did a little personal side note. She talked of God's grace being sufficient. She spoke of a friend who's precious child left this Earth way too early. She told of how at the funeral she was falling apart and the mother told her to get herself together or she was in trouble. The mom was able to keep it together because God's grace was sufficient for her weakness at that time. I remember that now and again, it explains so beautifully my life.