Joy In The Waiting

How In The World

2011-10-30T13:47:00.000-05:00

How is it possible to grieve so much for someone you've never met, never seen, never touched, never kissed......? How do you honor the potential of a life that was alive, even for a brief moment? How do you mourn something so intangible and so real at the same time? How do I wait for my lifetime to meet these I can't seem to take my mind off of?

Our first three would have been due in November and I am feeling their absence deeply these days.

Buechner Quote--Can I Believe It All Again Today?

2011-10-22T22:38:00.001-05:00

Every morning, you should wake up in your bed and ask yourself:

"Can I believe it all again today?"

No. Better still. Don't ask it until you've read the New York Times, till after you've studied that daily record of the world's brokenness and corruption, which should always stand side by side with your Bible.

THEN, ask yourself if you can believe in the gospel of Jesus Christ again for that particular day. If your answer's always "yes" then you probably don't know what believing means. At least five times out of ten, the answer should be "no" because the "no" is as important as the "yes", maybe more so. The "no" is what proves you're human in case you should ever doubt it.

And then if some morning the answer happens to really be "yes", it should be a "yes" that is choked with confession, tears, and great laughter.

--Fredrick Buechner

Re-Landscaping

2011-06-19T11:00:00.005-05:00

It's been a while since I've written....a lot going on. Feels like I've been (and still am) in survival mode. But writing has always been an outlet for me. I've hesitated to be too personal on this blog, but I've been stripped of many things these past weeks. One being my concern for asking "is this ok?" about every action I take. What we've been through is known by enough friends that I feel freed up to write more honestly now. I am not ashamed of what we've been through, so what is the shame in writing about it?

We are wading through the aftermath of our second failed IVF attempt. We have 5 babies (and yes, we consider the embryos our children) that are now with the Lord. Saying, or writing this, still makes me weep.

I hope to write more to process just that thought, that reality.

Today, I'm thinking on something that I've been reading. Slowly working through a book on grief called A Grace Disguised by Jerry Sittser, recommended by a friend. Really, really good. He writes about the fact that, after a "catastrophic loss", we are different people than we were before the loss. He compares the loss to a tree that was cut down in his yard where the stump remained, an ever-present reminder of what used to be there. Right now it's hard to think of anything but the tree, the loss.

Here is what he writes about it:

"Eventually, however, I decided to do something about it. I landscaped my backyard, reclaiming it once again as my own. I decided to keep the stump there, since it was both too big and too precious to remove. Instead of getting rid of it, I worked around it. I planted shrubs, trees, flowers, and grass. I laid out a brick pathway and built two benches. Then I watched everything grow. Now, three years later, the stump remains, still reminding me of the beloved tree I lost. But the stump is surrounded by a beautiful garden of blooming flowers and growing trees and lush grass. Likewise, the sorrow I feel remains, but I have tried to create a landscape around the loss so that what was once ugly is now an integral part of a larger, lovely whole."

Lord, I'm asking for faith to believe that You can, and will, landscape this gaping, aching hole in my heart, in our life. Give me strength to make it to the time of enjoying the beauty that You have integrated around it. Give me hope that You are writing glory into even this story when darkness seems to have the upper hand.

Hope on the Wind

2011-05-26T09:56:00.004-05:00

Thanks Ann Voskamp:

"And no wind ever blows so hard that it doesn’t carry hope, that it doesn’t blow in blessings too."

Out of the harsh winds of the past months came blessing and hope yesterday. No guarantees but encouragement nonetheless.

Blessings

2011-05-16T05:10:00.003-05:00

The Lord is so kind to give us what we need exactly when we need it.

One day this past weekend, I had two separate friends tell me about the song "Blessings" by Laura Story. Finding myself sleepless tonight, I looked up the lyrics and listened to it. What a balm for my soul, for my aching, fearful heart. (see the lyrics below)

Lord, use my sleepless nights and this pain to heal my heart....however that looks.

More of You, Jesus, more of You.

We pray for blessings
We pray for peace
Comfort for family, protection while we sleep
We pray for healing, for prosperity
We pray for Your mighty hand to ease our suffering
All the while, You hear each spoken need
Yet love us way too much to give us lesser things

Cause what if Your blessings come through raindrops
What if Your healing comes through tears
What if a thousand sleepless nights
Are what it takes to know You’re near
What if trials of this life are Your mercies in disguise

We pray for wisdom
Your voice to hear
And we cry in anger when we cannot feel You near
We doubt Your goodness, we doubt Your love
As if every promise from Your Word is not enough
All the while, You hear each desperate plea
And long that we'd have faith to believe

Cause what if Your blessings come through raindrops
What if Your healing comes through tears
What if a thousand sleepless nights
Are what it takes to know You’re near
And what if trials of this life are Your mercies in disguise

When friends betray us
When darkness seems to win
We know the pain reminds this heart
That this is not, this is not our home

Cause what if Your blessings come through raindrops
What if Your healing comes through tears
And what if a thousand sleepless nights
Are what it takes to know You’re near
What if my greatest disappointments
Or the aching of this life
Is the revealing of a greater thirst this world can’t satisfy
And what if trials of this life
The rain, the storms, the hardest nights
Are Your mercies in disguise

Five Minutes: Best Mail

2011-02-08T11:46:00.005-06:00

I stumbled across a new blog a few months ago, where the blogger challenges people to take five minutes to write on a given topic: un-edited, un-scripted, free-flowing thought.

She gives a new topic each Friday; last week's topic was "the best mail you got recently".

Going to give it a whirl (before tomorrow's topic arrives!) :

GO--

The box was not unexpected but the size certainly was.

The contents were spread on the counter....needles of different sizes, pills, syringes, alcohol wipes, a book of sheets describing each medication, something I don't have a name for but that look like bullets....as different emotions struggled for dominance. Excited. Overwhelmed. Afraid. Grateful.

While daunting, we were reminded of what it will allow us to try.

I mean, it wasn't a box from Amazon, but Lord willing, the gift that the contents of this box may allow, will have enduring effects for the rest of my life, beyond closing a book on its last page.

STOP--

Wow that went fast....

OK, so I took 10 min, but when your husband asks you for three different things in a row, you oblige and then extend your deadline :) .....

Give Me This Day.....

2011-02-02T06:27:00.003-06:00

.....my daily bread.

I have been thinking for several weeks on this. The process that we're in requires it. I can no more make my body respond to these medications as I can control the outcome. Each day requires some or all of the following: pills, injections, doctor visits, blood work, and tests. Keeping up with it all is a full-time job and it is easy to believe that the whole thing relies on my ability to do it well, do it right, even perfectly.

But it doesn't and I'm reminded of my daily need of Him. He is my bread, my hope....not these things or even whether I become a mother soon or not.

He is kind to give good gifts and what we need for the day: His Spirit, of course; a community of friends who are sharing our burden with us; strength to face the next injection or test. Even down to small details: the welcome gift of sunshine on Saturday morning, winking through the clouds and into my bedroom window.

To quote a new song from my favorites The Weepies, "I was made for sunny days", and I have a Father who delights in giving them.

Hudson Taylor Quote

2011-01-23T14:47:00.002-06:00

Read this Rabbit Room post recently and found it encouraging...

Here is an excerpt:

"The sweetest part…is the rest which full identification with Christ brings. I am no longer anxious about anything, as I realize this; for He, I know, is able to carry out His will, and His will is mine. It makes no matter where He places me, or how. That is rather for Him to consider than for me, for in the easiest position He must give me His grace, and in the most difficult His grace is sufficient. It little matters to my servant whether I send him to buy a few cash worth of things, or the most expensive articles. In either case he looks to me for the money and brings me his purchases. So if God should place me in serious perplexity, must He not give me much guidance; in places of great difficulty, much grace; in circumstances of great pressure and trial, much strength? No fear that His resources will prove unequal to the emergency! And His resources are mine, for He is mine, and is with me and dwells in me."

My Body

2011-01-22T14:49:00.007-06:00

As we're about to start a new procedure soon, I have been thinking a lot lately about my body and what it means.

The thoughts that come to mind are varied and I'm not quite sure how to organize, so I'll list :) :

1. I've always regarded my body from a distance. Like I could stand apart and examine it objectively. And, unfortunately, I am a harsh critic. I've not always cared for it well. In hard seasons, I'm not often hungry and it has suffered. In training, I push my body hard without thinking of consequences afterward (I never even think about the option of ibuprofen). I get frustrated when it becomes sick and stays sick for months. When my body fails to do what it seems made to do (for example, produce and grow life or heal itself quickly), I feel I can't be angry with the Lord so the blame turns toward my body. It must be the faulty one.

2. At the same time, my body is a temple of the Lord's and the Spirit's dwelling place. It is made in His image. The mold was broken after He made mine, in all of its weird and lovely details. Every cell, sinew, tendon is knitted together in design. As something I've studied in detail, I am in awe of it's complexity and beauty. In gross anatomy, every new thing we uncovered pointed to a Designer; how could you not be made breathless by the progression of two cells into a complex, unique person? Shouldn't I respect my body for the value He placed on it when He created me? Our bodies are significant, as Christ incarnate was hugely significant.

3. I'm about to demand a LOT of my body in the days/weeks to come and I find myself more sympathetic toward it. I feel more tender toward it than I probably ever have. This is my vessel until glory and He has chosen it for me. And who I am is inseparable from it.

Here's to a New Year

2011-01-01T13:43:00.004-06:00

Though the fig tree should not blossom,

nor fruit be on the vines,

the produce of the olive fail

and the fields yield no food,

the flock be cut off from the fold

and there be no herd in the stalls,

yet I will rejoice in the Lord;

I will take joy in the God of my salvation.

God, the Lord, is my strength;

he makes my feet like the deer's;

he makes me tread on my high places.

Habakkuk 3: 17-19

Will post soon on reflections on 2010.....

Today, I'm celebrating a new year, new possibilities, new grace, new strength.....

30 Days

2010-12-07T17:04:00.003-06:00

I want to be sure to document the ways in which He makes Himself known in this season because I can too easily believe He is silent.

Along with a dear friend, I've begun 30 days of praying. She is praying for her heart's desire and I am praying for mine! A verse a day that I meditate on...and I record what the Lord may do each day....and my, has He been quick to answer.....

On Dec 1, I had a patient on my schedule who had adopted his daughter 7 years ago; he spent 1.5 hours telling me the details of his "miraculous" story while frequently tearing up. Such a tender heart in a man who attributes every last second/minute/month/year that they waited as a necessary part of leading them to the specific little girl who would be their daughter. He even prayed over me in the middle of the fitness center.....I was a little self-conscious at first but then raised my face toward that sweet blessing. An unexpected encounter with Him as He used a random stranger ("God with skin on" as a friend often says) to meet me.

Over the next couple of days, we ran into two different couples (friends of Eric's) in a restaurant and at a Christmas party who had both adopted children in the past several years. Different stories but such an assurance that the way things turned out were ordained. That the trials and the waiting were redeemed.

While most of the encounters centered around adoption, I continue to pray that our family will have both biological and adopted children in its makeup. If I've learned anything from our women's bible study this year, it's that we can come to Him as little children and ask boldly and frequently and without hesitation! He delights in hearing our hearts. From our study: "Desire and surrender are the perfect balance to praying." Both can exist....

On a side note, listening to "Breath of Heaven" ..... so happy to have Christmas music back in my life and to be drawn into celebrating this season. Good for my soul! Come, Lord Jesus.....

I Choose to Hope

2010-10-17T19:26:00.003-05:00

Right now, I choose to hope.

I choose to trust.

I choose to weep as necessary.

And I choose to keep walking one foot in front of another, knowing that He is a step (at least) ahead of me.

Creative Rather Than Destructive

2010-10-10T15:28:00.007-05:00

I recently began reading Madeleine L'Engle's autobiographical series and wanted to remember something she said when a lady at a party told her, "You're a very happy person, aren't you?"

Her reply:

"I had, at that point, legitimate reasons to be miserable. But her question stopped me in my tracks. I looked at her in surprise and gratitude and said, 'Yes, I am.'

This was ten years ago. But the answer is still the same. The better word, of course, is joy, because it doesn't have anything to do with pain, physical or spiritual. I have been wholly in joy when I have been in pain--childbirth is the obvious example. Joy is what has made the pain bearable and, in the end, creative rather than destructive."

Here's hoping (praying) that looking back on this season, I will see His fingerprints at work, even in the dark places. That I will learn to respond with "Yes!" when asked if I am "happy", regardless of my circumstances, simply because I am walking through this time with Someone who loves me deeply. And that what He will create out of this will be beautiful, that dwelling in suffering will be faith-building and give me the tiniest glimpse into that of my Savior, and that He would be brought glory.

Heartbroken and Heart-Happy

2010-07-27T11:26:00.007-05:00

I have gone back and forth for a while about how much to write about on this blog. This past year and a half has been the hardest (and seemingly longest) season of my life so far. It continues to be so and I think that's why I haven't written in a while. If I want to write about what's really going on with me, I would need to be a lot more honest.

We just returned from a two-week vacation to the Northwest which was simply refreshing and rejuvenating and MUCH-NEEDED. I so miss the fresh air and cool breezes, mountain views and water views, reading books uninterrupted, living out of a car :) , and meeting new people who were strangers now friends ..... one step back into the humidity that is Nashville right now brought me back to reality. As much as my wandering heart longs for mountains and breathable air and new places and cultures and people, our home is Nashville, for now and as long as He chooses.

I went from having my heart burst each day at the beauty and new-ness of my surroundings on our trip ... and waking with the anticipation of whatever the day may bring ... to returning to home where, if I'm honest, I often wake with anxiety, fear, and sometimes a little bit of dread at what the day holds ahead of me.

I live daily with moments of great joy (my birthday dinner with close friends crowded into our house, laughing and eating and visiting) and those of great heartache (sitting in a waiting room at my doctor's office, surrounded by five pregnant women, all of whom glance at my belly, looking for my bump, which, painfully, doesn't exist yet). Isn't this life, though? Isn't that why the gospel is beautiful ... that it is true and applicable to both situations?

The psalmist says, "I believe I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living." I pray for that belief, for that sight, for this is faith. In joy and in sorrow.

The Help and Thoughts on Mississippi

2010-04-23T17:36:00.010-05:00

Fair warning: I am about to ramble.

I recently finished a book about Mississippi called The Help by Kathryn Stockett, about the relationships between white ladies and their black "help", which used to be the norm. I'm sure it ruffled some feathers back home but I, for one, am so glad that it was written. I struggled growing up with the history of my home state. Learning about the awful events from the civil rights era that we are known for but also growing up in a city where the tide had already turned (or at least, was turning). I have often felt stuck between shame for our past and curiosity about (and hope for) our future.

When I went to college out-of-state, I had to answer ridiculous questions about Mississippi: Do you have outhouses still?, Do you walk to school? And also some legitimate ones: what do you think about the use of the confederate flag?

All this to say, I have always had a love-hate relationship with Mississippi, bouncing between 1) shame and embarrassment for the past acts of our forefathers and 2) pride in our hospitality and southern food and traditions and the tightness of communities and the sense that wherever you go, you will probably run into a Mississippian and will feel like family when you do.

Mrs Stockett summed up several things so well that I wanted to document them:

1. Talking about Mississippi with a stranger:

"The rash of negative accounts about Mississippi, in the movies, in the papers, on television, have made us natives a wary, defensive bunch. We are full of pride and shame, but mostly pride.

Still, I got out of there. I moved to NYC. I learned that the first question anyone asked anybody, in a town so transient, was "Where are you from?" And I'd say, "Mississippi." And then I'd wait.

To people who smiled and said, "I've heard it's beautiful down there, " I'd say, "My hometown is number three in the nation for gang-related murders." To people who said, "God, you must be glad to be out of that place, " I'd bristle and say, "What do you know? It's beautiful down there." "

2. Defending Mississippi to a stranger:

"Once, at a roof party, a drunk man from a rich white Metro North-train type of town asked me where I was from and I told him Mississippi. He sneered and said, "I am so sorry."

I nailed down his foot with the stiletto portion of my shoe and spent the next ten minutes quietly educating him on the where-from-abouts of William Faulkner, Eudora Welty, Tennessee Williams, Elvis Presley, B.B. King, Oprah Winfrey, Jim Henson, Faith Hill, James Earl Jones, and Craig Claiborne, the food editor and critic for The New York Times. I informed him that Mississippi hosted the first lung transplant and the first heart transplant and that the basis of the United States legal system was developed at the University of Mississippi.

I was homesick and I'd been waiting for somebody like him.

I wasn't very genteel or ladylike, and the poor guy squirmed away and looked nervous for the rest of the party. But I couldn't help it.

Mississippi is like my mother. I am allowed to complain about her all I want, but God help the person who raises an ill word about her around me, unless she is their mother too."

3. What it would behoove us to remember and understand:

"Wasn't that the point of the book? For women to realize, We are just two people. Not that much separates us. Not nearly as much as I thought."

I can honestly say that I have felt all of these things toward my home state: defensive and prideful even though there are reasons I left, hopeful for deeper, more honest relationships among its people, and yes, at times, homesick for it.

I am grateful to Ms Stockett for bringing out into the open a topic that needs and deserves to be acknowledged and discussed. So that I can move further out of the shame of my state and deeper into its healing and into relationships.

Signs of Spring

2010-03-30T15:23:00.008-05:00

I don't think I've ever anticipated spring as much as I have this year. I've been soooooo ready.

Here are a few things that are bringing much daily joy:

We started our first garden last year from small plants from Home Depot. This year, I'm trying to grow them from seeds! I love coming home every day and checking their progress. Several of them have tiny, tiny green shoots popping up through the dirt. Amazing that life comes from something that starts so small. I realize that humans are the most mind-blowing example of this, but I can't track a baby's early progress like I can my little seeds, so I'll continue to marvel at their growth!

Here are the seed beds. I realize that we don't have room in our garden should all 98 seed beds actually produce something. I also realize that I got a little carried away.....looks like I'll be offering some to neighbors....

Some of the produce that we're growing: romaine lettuce (so far they're the first to sprout), peppers, okra, watermelon, squash, zucchini, cucumbers, three types of tomatoes, and sunflowers.

These sticks were too tall for the covers over the beds.....

Also trying herbs: sage, thyme, rosemary, basil, and lavender....

We planted bulbs last summer and these daffodils were the first sign of spring...THRILLED me to see them start poking through. Daffodils make me happy.

And finally, our tulips are also trying to push through the pansies.....have no idea what color they'll be. I'll keep you posted....

Hope you're enjoying spring, friends!!

Water Walk

2010-03-30T15:22:00.004-05:00

The average African walks 5 miles a day to collect water.

On World Water Day (last Monday), Nashvillians had the chance to walk in the shoes of our African brothers and sisters (in a very small way). Organized by the group Blood:Water Mission, we walked a mile carrying buckets of Cumberland River water, as many of them do every day, several times a day. We walked in reflective silence as we carried the water. Time to think about kids carrying these heavy buckets, being careful not to spill a drop. Time to feel the weight of the bucket increase over distance. Time to feel cramping begin in my fingers, then wrists, then shoulders, then knees. Time to think about the many uses of water I take for granted. Time to look into the bucket and see how dirty it was and to know this is the quality of water that many people use for bathing, cooking, drinking. Time to consider the value of one dollar....

Friends by the river, before the walk began:

Filling our buckets:

Eric and I are passionate about Africa, Africans, and this group's work.

Check it out: http://www.bloodwatermission.com.

Courage

2010-01-17T13:44:00.005-06:00

Eric and I had a date night on Friday, trying out a restaurant we've never been to in Nashville during Restaurant Week. Half-way through our dinner, they seated a young girl by herself in the corner. She seemed so content and happy as they brought out the various parts of her meal. And I haven't been able to stop thinking about her since then.

I love that she went to this restaurant by herself. I remember being single and often going places by myself and thinking too much sometimes about what people would think about that. I didn't want pity; I wanted to be able to go somewhere (a movie, dinner, coffee, etc) by myself for the pure pleasure of enjoying and experiencing something. And sometimes, I wanted to do it on my own. The times where I really was unaware of what others may have thought, I felt free and joyful and appreciative of my life.

I applauded her being there (whatever her reasons). For being out there and enjoying where she is in life. It was an encouragement to me--as I always seem to look forward to the next thing--to enjoy the day He has me in, the place and stage of life He has chosen for me right now. I don't want to miss out on lovely dinners, sweet observations, and memorable moments with my husband and community, or by myself :) .

Thank you, Lord, for a week of thankfulness for my life, exactly as it is.

BODIES and a Seat at the Table

2009-12-07T12:34:00.005-06:00

We spent a wonderful, restful four days with Eric's parents over Thanksgiving. Two things have been stuck on my mind since that weekend and I thought I'd write a little about them.

The first was the BODIES Exhibit that we went through at Atlantic Station. I have wanted to go through gross anatomy again ever since beginning to actually practice as a therapist, so this was a treat to get glimpses into the body again after 8+ years of health care experience. I remember being in awe of the body when in PT school and had the same reaction here. You felt you should whisper in reverence around them. It is hard to study the body without acknowledging the Creator of the body. Truly the pinnacle of creation. We are so detailed and to think that we come from two cells that multiply into millions, that each know where to go to create organs and hair and bones.

The exhibit in Atlanta is a traveling one; so catch it before it leaves in May 2010! I highly recommend it.

The second thing that has stuck with me was a picture that the pastor at Perimeter spoke about on Sunday morning. We had been talking the day before about the awkwardness of having to find a seat in the lunchroom during junior high and high school. And he spoke about arriving in heaven and entering a room where many are seated at a table with Jesus at the head: Martin Luther, Augustine, John Calvin, Paul, Corrie Ten Boom....and you are intimidated at first....

"there can't be a seat for me here". But I am invited, welcomed in, and there is a place for me, amongst my other brothers and sisters. I am ushered in to a seat at the table with the other saints and my Lord. What a sweet thing to look forward to!

Pill-Taking

2009-12-06T12:54:00.009-06:00

So sorry to have been away...it has been a long two months of off-and-on sinus infections with shortness of breath...currently back "on" again. You would think with all of the time on the couch, I would have time to attend to my blog :) .... I do have several things on my mind to write about, so look for a few more posts coming up.

First, I have to share the aftermath of my recent pill-taking experience (with Eric's assistance!). Picture first, explanation second:

Historically, I am not a great pill-taker. I think about it too much, hold it in my mouth too long, and then choke as I try to swallow one. I was having a particularly hard time breathing this night and had choked down one pill already. Now I was facing the chalk-y steroid pill and the sticky Walgreen's sudafed....which really made my throat close up when I thought about them.

In comes Eric with an idea. Why don't we crush them up?

Here is the sequence:

1. EQ crushes the pills using a spoon and our spoon rest.

2. He considers putting the powder in hot tea; I convince him to put it in cold TJ's Mango Green Tea; something with taste to it. (Note: it does not dissolve well at this point. )

3. I try it....no go. Too gritty.

4. Maybe that hot tea idea had some merit to it. We add hot water.

5. I try it...no go. Too bitter.

6. Eric adds a large dash of fresh lemon juice.

7. I try it...no go. Too tangy, puckering.

8. Splenda next.

9. I try it...a little better....I like sweet things. But I get to the bottom of the glass and there's a blob of shredded pills still there. Ugh.

10. Applesauce (like my mom used to do when I was little). Mix it in with a big spoonful and I am DONE.

Speaking of pills, I think it's time for my next dose :( ......

Ugh...sick.

2009-10-15T15:55:00.003-05:00

I have not slept through the night since last Saturday night.

I am becoming well-acquainted with the sounds of our house and our street in the "wee, small hours of the morning".

I have gone through two boxes of kleenex so far.

I have a husky voice.

I have actually finished a magazine from cover to cover.

I have an incredible husband who goes out and gets me movies and soup and a neti-pot.

Sometimes it is good to be forced to slow down.

But I think I'm ready to retire the kleenex now....

No Thank You

2009-09-22T15:00:00.005-05:00

I turned down a Gigi's turtle cupcake last week.

That rarely happens.

But before I made my decision, I went back and forth in my head for a few hours about what to do. You see, I was fasting from chocolate. And had been for a few weeks, successfully abstaining from the daily temptations that arose! But my patient had brought me one beautiful, perfect cupcake as a "thank-you".

Here is my conversation with myself:

I worried that if I ate the cupcake, "It will erase the benefits of the fast so far and He will not respond to the situation which is the purpose of the fast. He will say "no" if I eat the chocolate." Then I thought..."Wow, you really think you have all the control in this situation and that the turn-out depends on your choices and obedience. That the Lord will respond based on your moves." So I decided that this rule-follower should be bold and break the rules: "Trust that He is still sovereign over this situation and will act in the way that He chooses, regardless of your attempts, for your good and His glory." I could choose to be freed up to trust him (and not have to bring the record of my good works in my defense). But I'd have to break the rules...."I said I would not eat chocolate, so I can't eat chocolate." But that's not the point of a fast, which is meant to prompt me to pray and turn to Him who is better than the richest, sweetest chocolate (which it already had!).

I did not eat the cupcake...gave it to a co-worker for her son. But I kind of wish I had eaten it after all. There is an inner rebel in me that longs to be freed up from "should's". I still have a picture of the Lord laughing and celebrating as I savor the cupcake and the kindness of my patient, in the knowledge that I am no less close to Him for breaking my fast.

The next day I enjoyed a reese's peanut butter cup and it was good. The answer, for the time being, did turn out to be "no".

And all is still right between me and my Savior, who continues to patiently whittle away at the things that keep me bound!

A New Favorite

2009-09-01T15:12:00.010-05:00

I don't know that I have many heroes. Maybe "heroes" is not the word I'm looking for. Maybe it's just people that blow me away with something about them, with who they are or what they do; people that inspire and encourage me. Whatever you call them, I have a new one!

I just finished reading The Hiding Place and wish I had met Corrie Ten Boom in my lifetime. What a strong, inspiring, faith-full lady!!! What a story, what a faith, what a sweet relationship she had with the Lord in times that I cannot even imagine. She lived through the occupation of Holland (all the while, as a Christian, helping to hide Jews) and then a year in a concentration camp in Germany, where she lost her father and her sister. She took such bold action in several situations, trusting that the Lord would protect her.

Here are a few excerpts that have stayed with me:|

In The Hiding Place, she recalls one conversation with her father on the return trip from Amsterdam in 1902 or 1903:

Oftentimes I would use the trip home to bring up things that were troubling me, since anything I asked at home was promptly answered by the aunts. Once -- I must have been ten or eleven -- I asked Father about a poem we had read at school the winter before. One line described "a young man whose face was not shadowed by sexsin." I had been far too shy to ask the teacher what it meant, and Mama had blushed scarlet when I consulted her. In those days just after the turn of the century sex was never discussed, even at home.

So the line had stuck in my head. "Sex," I was pretty sure, meant whether you were a boy or a girl, and "sin" made [her aunt] Tante Jans very angry, but what the two together meant I could not imagine. And so, seated next to Father in the train compartment, I suddenly asked, "Father, what is sexsin?"

He turned to look at me, as he always did when answering a question, but to my surprise he said nothing. At last he stood up, lifted his traveling case from the rack over our heads, and set it on the floor.

"Will you carry it off the train, Corrie?" he said.

I stood up and tugged at it. It was crammed with the watches and spare parts he had purchased that morning.

"It's too heavy," I said.

"Yes," he said. "And it would be a pretty poor father who would ask his little girl to carry such a load. It's the same way, Corrie, with knowledge. Some knowledge is too heavy for children. When you are older and stronger you can bear it. For now you must trust me to carry it for you."

And I was satisfied. More than satisfied--wonderfully at peace. There were answers to this and all my hard questions--for now I was content to leave them in my father's keeping.

(The Hiding Place(Bantam, Reissue Edition, 1984) 26-27)

Apparently, some of my questions for the Lord are too heavy for me, but I can trust Him to know those answers! I have dwelt on the image of God as my protective Father since then.

Another excerpt described a conversation that Corrie and her sisters had after some officers had raided their house looking for her nephews to put to work in their factories (they were unsuccessful). They debated whether it was alright to lie to protect your family. Her father commented that whatever Corrie said in the situation (she lied about the presence of a radio hidden in their home), it was said "in love." Corrie reflects on this statement:

"Love. How did one show it? How could God Himself show truth and love at the same time in a world like this?

By dying. The answer stood out for me sharper and chiller than it ever had before that night: the shape of a Cross etched on the history of the world."

I'm now in the middle of Tramp for the Lord, which is a book about her life after the concentration camp, which she spent traveling the world telling the good news about Jesus. She would sense the Lord calling her to places and she would go without knowing where she'd stay or speak. And the Lord would always provide for her. Again, such active faith. Would that we would all be so bold.

Birthdays

2009-09-01T14:38:00.009-05:00

Have been meaning to try to post some pictures....today is the day....

Eric and I both celebrated birthdays over the summer....here are a few pics from our crochet-playing, wine-tasting, jazz-listening, dinners-with-friends festivities!!

Hope

2009-08-25T15:36:00.003-05:00

Hope is hard.

I've always danced around hope, unsure of how I really feel about it. Of course, it doesn't really matter how I feel about it....it is what it is.

I'm usually very afraid to actually do it. It is one of the most beautiful words that I know and also one of the scariest. It seems risky and that it has the ability to disappoint and crush. But it is also alluring....can I really believe it to be true? I want to. Can I really hope and not have my heart crushed? Maybe...maybe not. I know that it really does depend on what I'm actually hoping in. I can't hope that every desire I have will be supplied. I can't hope that I will do everything perfectly. I can't hope that my life will be easy or that things will always happen as I'd like to plan them :) ..... But I can hope in the things He has promised (and that He will be there when I dare to hope and it hurts). I can hope that He will continue to break into this world and heal brokenness. I can hope in the work of Christ to redeem and change people. I can hope in the sufficiency of the gospel to work (in my life and in others).

These things I do know, because scripture says so:

Hope is something that He calls us to ("....that you may know what is the hope to which he has called you", Eph 1:18), that is substantial ("....because we have our hope set on the living God, who is the savior of all people", 1 Tim), and that requires faith and patience ("...For who hopes for what he sees? But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience." Rom 8).

I want to be brave and boldly hope.

Homecoming

2009-08-18T18:18:00.003-05:00

What a full couple of weeks....

We had a wonderful time with my family at the beach last week. At beautiful Rosemary Beach with my parents, sister and her family. It's always a little hard for me to transition back to life in Nashville after time away; I need at least a day or two :) . Especially after saying goodbye to my family who all live in Jackson now and would still be together after we'd left. Every time that I come home and I want to hole up and stay in my house, the Lord nudges me out, into my community, into life again, and I remember why we're here. It began with our church service on Sunday; sweet worship and exposition of the Word and a refreshed love for that place, its people and its purpose and its Savior. And a challenging leader's meeting last night....with such good teaching on discipleship....much to ponder over now.

Then visiting today (on the phone and in person) with some of my dearest, longest friends who know me well and accept me. And finally, several hours at Crema with my husband.....who just finished his first day of orientation at Vandy Divinity School!! Visiting with the steady stream of friends who came through, getting all of the details about his first day, testing his patience with my steady stream of chatter :) (hoping that writing this blog post will curb that for a few minutes!).

And to top off the day.....I had time to make dinner for Eric. Small thing, but something I want to be able to do more often...so thankful for days such as these....

No Fear

2009-08-04T20:29:00.003-05:00

Maybe I should wait to write these posts after I've had some time to read...much more to process and share then!

I'm reading about the fear of man and how to overcome that, since every one of us struggles with this in some way. I often find that the voices of people in my life are louder than what God, through scripture, says about me.

I'll share the paragraph that really struck me (substituting "I" in there):

"But I must believe. I must believe in the words of Christ more than I believe in anything else. I must follow the principle: For every one look at myself I must take ten looks at Jesus (which our pastor often reminds us). I must meditate on these loving promises from the mouth of God. If I think that I am beyond grace, I should be corrected. Such thinking is based on the unbiblical assumption that our works can either keep us away from God or move us toward Him. It is a denial of grace itself. It suggests that there is some righteous act I must perform in order to meet God halfway. This, however, has nothing to do with the gospel of Jesus. The gospel is only available to people who know they are unclean........Only persistent meditation on the cross of Christ is sufficient to allay my fears."

--Ed Welch

Good words.....Lord, help my unbelief.

Perspective

2009-08-04T16:01:00.004-05:00

Today's joy:

Crema coffee shop with the best mocha in town. Pumpkin chocolate chip muffin. Journal and Bible and books nearby. Freshly straightened hair (that I'll never be able to repeat!). View of the rolling Nashville hills in the distance. Steady stream of cars over the gateway bridge. Breeze through the mimosa tree across the street. Week at the beach with my family ahead. Remembering a weekend of celebrating the birth of my best friend. Glimpse of the steeple of the church where we got married. Our neighborhood across the river that holds so many things that I love: my husband working hard on his latest project, our home, our precious community of friends and neighbors, a place where the gospel is breaking in ....

Enjoying every second of my day off ..... thankful every week for Tuesdays when "weekend Mandy" emerges .... for time to visit with friends, to be productive or to be still. Such a gift.

Clouds

2009-07-22T16:48:00.006-05:00

I wanted to share where the picture up there came from...

EQ and I were flying home from Florida after a week at the beach with his family in early June. Both of our flights took us over some amazing storms....we'd never seen anything like it. Several of the storms had lightning that just lit up everything below us; other clouds had delicate, streaky lightning that reached out and touched every other one nearby, like lace being sewn in an intricate pattern in fast forward. We were mesmerized by the majesty of the storms from a perspective that we'd never had. What a view the Lord had of something that He created and controlled....sweet of Him to share the view with us....

A Long Time Coming...

2009-07-21T17:37:00.007-05:00

So, I now have a blog.....

Hmmmmm, I feel a lot of pressure for my first post....

I have played with this idea for a while now. And with the persistent encouragement of my husband :) , I'm giving it a try. I have no idea what this is meant to be: a way to keep up with family and friends, a way to stay connected, a way to get things out of my head and process, a way to stretch my writing muscles and be creative, a chronicle of the working of the Lord in and around me, a way to look back and see His fingerprints in this life..... hopefully, all of the above.

I like records of things, to look back and see patterns. To see what you couldn't see in the moment. And I like playing with words and journalling and writing......and capturing snapshots of life. I long for joy in the midst of the abundant life that He promises....thus the title. Recording moments of joy, or reminders of truth in the times where it seems absent, are what this will be about....

So, here's to the beginning.....