Eclipse, Wrapped Up with a Bow

I knew I couldn’t make my husband Dave's dream come true on my own—God would have to intervene. I wasn’t thinking of the obvious things (like the sun and moon)—but the “mountains” that so often consume our daily lives of chemical sensitivities and complications from chronic Lyme disease: there couldn’t be anyone smoking. No bug spray. No perfumey people. No overwhelming crowds or blaring music or vibrating bass. We needed to avoid most of the 200,000 people flooding to Southern Illinois for the eclipse on August 21, 2017.

Sun with sunspots, August 20th

Dave’s lifelong dream started when he was 9 or 10, with a book about the stars and planets from his Uncle Eddie. I remember the morning at our kitchen table when the dream spilled out like so many moonbeams, unable to be contained—but Dave was choked up because the totality of it all seemed too impossible. That’s when I knew—we had to make this one happen.

Dave, bespeckled with eclipse glasses!

Dave studied the map, looking for the perfect place that would be lovely and clear and not too crowded. A spot in nature—because part of the experience, he knew from his extensive reading, is not just what you see but what you hear. This, too, was part of the dream, and even then, God’s finger was nudging Dave to a quiet side of a smaller lake where a few thoughtful people would gather but the crowds would ignore.

A quiet little spot on the lake

Dave started setting up the tripod as I unpacked our antigravity chairs (which assisted Dave in lying back and sitting up), and we snapped a quick shot of the vanishing sun. We were really there!

Our first glimpse, around noon

The air had that greenish glow-before-a-storm look to it, not the light of twilight. 

Dragonfly along the shore

As the sun inched away bit by bit, we marveled that there was still so much light with just a sliver of sun. Then the birds shifted to their nighttime warble and the frogs began their rhythmic croaking. A great blue heron set his shyness aside and garnered the courage to wing across the wide lake in front of us, eager for his “dusk” feeding. Cicadas drummed out their deafening cacophony, and the cool of evening fell.

The final sliver of sun slipped away and cheers rose from around the lake! 

Then, silence and awe. We all listened, engulfed, entranced, lulled by the blackened new moon where once the sun had shone, and the brilliant corona, joyfully dancing around it in the solar winds. A few planets and stars twinkled, and the gravitational pull of totality held us in its spell. It seemed like it would last forever. 

Then, suddenly, the diamond ring burst forth and the sun peeked out, flooding our senses with light again.

The first new light from the sun spilled out in little pools, and Dave cupped his hands. The light seemed tangible, as if we could scoop it up like so many moon-balls in our hands.

The second dawn of the day awakened.

I opened the Word, but before I could turn to Psalm 19, the leaves of a tree showered its pinhole-camera crescent shadows. I had actually walked the grounds, looking for this just before totality—what a joy to see it as we stopped to read:

The heavens declare the glory of God;
    the skies proclaim the work of his hands.
Day after day they pour forth speech;
    night after night they reveal knowledge.
They have no speech, they use no words;
    no sound is heard from them.
Yet their voice goes out into all the earth,
    their words to the ends of the world.
In the heavens God has pitched a tent for the sun.
    It is like a bridegroom coming out of his chamber,
    like a champion rejoicing to run his course.
It rises at one end of the heavens
    and makes its circuit to the other;
    nothing is deprived of its warmth.
The law of the Lord is perfect,
    refreshing the soul.
The statutes of the Lord are trustworthy,
    making wise the simple.
The precepts of the Lord are right,
    giving joy to the heart.
The commands of the Lord are radiant,
    giving light to the eyes.
The fear of the Lord is pure,
    enduring forever.
The decrees of the Lord are firm,
    and all of them are righteous.
They are more precious than gold,
    than much pure gold;
they are sweeter than honey,
    than honey from the honeycomb.
By them your servant is warned;
    in keeping them there is great reward.
But who can discern their own errors?
    Forgive my hidden faults.
Keep your servant also from willful sins;
    may they not rule over me.
Then I will be blameless,
    innocent of great transgression.
May these words of my mouth and this meditation of my heart
    be pleasing in your sight,
    Lord, my Rock and my Redeemer.

--Psalm 19, NIV 

Then, joy upon joy, as if one heavenly sign of God’s power and love wasn’t enough, God wrapped up our 28^th anniversary trip with a storm and a rainbow on our way home.  

"I will remember my covenant between me and you
and all living creatures of every kind." 

Happy 28th Anniversary, Dave!

Book Reception Celebration!

Two weeks ago, a dear friend of mine hosted a book reception for me at a local coffee shop.

 She made a beautiful display of my awards and books...

and got another very talented friend to make this incredible cake! I hated to cut into it!

But of course we did! We had about 20-30 people there, and I had an absolutely lovely time talking with friends and meeting a few new people as well.

I'm so thankful for good friends, church, and family. No one writes a book alone, and especially not a rubber-meets-the-road, how-will-God-carry-us-through? kind of book. I was so blessed to be able to share the scriptures that have been food for my soul over the past 14 years, the questions and heartaches, and the ways that my husband, even in his pain, has encouraged and enabled me to stay steadfast in my faith.  Thank you all, dear friends. (and this is the only "people" picture my kids happened to capture, so if others have pictures, send them my way!) It was a joy to celebrate my book with you, but even more, God's goodness to us all.

Illumination Award Winner! Invisible Illness, Visible God

The results of the 2013 Illumination Awards have been posted, and Invisible Illness, Visible God has won a bronze medal in the Devotional category!

"With the motto, "Shining a Light on Exemplary Christian Books," the Illumination Book Awards are designed to honor the year’s best new titles written and published with a Christian worldview."

I'm greatly honored that Invisible Illness, Visible God: When Pain Meets the Power of an Indestructible Life was chosen. We pray that others will continue to be strengthened and encouraged through God's word and the sharing of our journey.

"I pray that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order that you may know the hope to which he has called you..."

~ Ephesians 1:18 

The Spatula Thief Strikes Again! Merry Christmas Kids!

Two years ago, my daughter wanted a detective-themed party for her birthday. She had gone to a party when she was 10, where the girls had to drive all over town to solve clues. She wanted her cake to be stolen, and for the girls to have to find it. I wasn't sure how I was going to compete with the great pajama caper, but slowly the idea emerged, and, thanks to a little clip-art guy I found...the Spatula Thief was born.

The girls' moms all took pictures of spatulas with cake crumbs or flour at their houses, and we included a few recognizable places around town too. The girls had to examine the pictures to figure out where the next clue was--and were very surprised that their moms had all been in on the mystery!

Occasionally, the spatula thief shows up again, but this time he is teaming up with another family nemesis: Chunky the Squirrel!

One Easter, the kids didn't find all of the eggs hidden outside...one was missing. The squirrels in our neighborhood are very aggressive. I've seen one with a whole green tomato in his mouth. And they dug up all of our daffodils, even though squirrels are supposed to leave them alone (and only go after tulips. Our squirrels didn't get that memo.) They constantly dig up our annuals as well. So, we're pretty sure that opening a plastic egg is within their capability, especially Chunky's. (Obviously, he's been eating the kids' chocolate.)

Chunky is blamed for all sorts of misdeeds, and this year, he and the Spatula Thief are after the kids' presents too! He left clues throughout the Night Before Christmas poem for them to solve.

"Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a ___________. 

(well, except the Spatula Thief, who, I’m afraid to tell you, has hidden a few of your presents…)"

I was pretty surprised to actually find squirrel spatulas online!

The kids solved all the clues and then opened the rest of their presents...and now, they're all snuggled in their beds again!

Merry Christmas!

Praying with Perseverance

[Reposted from 2003 from my previous blog]

And [Jesus] said: "I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven." Matthew 18: 3-4

I used to find my son's scribble marks in my journals; now I find my daughter's. How they try to be like us, and yet often I find that I need to be like them.

Take prayer. My daughter prays the same thing at least four times a day--every meal and bedtime. "Help my Daddy to feel better soon." There's comfort in her familiar prayer.

For a time I began to get bored with her prayer, and wondered, "should I encourage her to pray about other things, or try to change her prayer?" Yet then the deep realization came that what is foremost on her mind, the only thing in her mind worth repeating day after day, is never too familiar or boring to say again to the One who can answer...

"Then Jesus told his disciples a parable to show them that they should always pray and not give up." Luke 18:1

Her prayer is short and to the point--not long or drawn out as if her words have power in and of themselves, or as if she might stumble upon some magic way of eliciting a response from God. She is my hero, my prayer warrier. And where did she learn this simple prayer? Her brother taught it to her. "A little child shall lead them..."

I find sometimes that my faith falls short--that after I pray for awhile, I want to give up because I get tired of waiting for the answer--but my hero doesn't get tired. She enjoys being carried--and she knows the One who will carry the desires and concerns of her heart.

The Footprints poem says God is carrying us in the hardest times. To me that used to be a nice sentiment, something that good Christians imagine but not a truth to be experienced. But God has led me time and again to know and experience the deep truth of this.

The prayer He calls me to is to pour out my heart, all of my worries, my concerns, my fears, until God says, "Be still, and know that I am God." I used to stop praying at that point, but now I bask in prayer, knowing that He is God. I rest in His arms because He is sovereign, in control, His perfect plan is in action, I am secure, I am in the shelter of His wings. That's when He begins to speak to me. That's when I am filled by Him.

I used to be afraid to seek His presence because I was afraid of hearing more silence. I thought, my faith is too fragile to handle any more silence like God's apparent silence in response to my prayers. It is better to imagine God than to seek Him and be disappointed. I mistook God's silence for rejection instead of His beckoning call to seek and pursue Him, and I missed out on knowing the beauty of when God does answer.

Sometimes I break down and tell God I don't have the strength to pursue Him and that I need Him to come meet me where I am. He has always answered that prayer over time, and then calls me again to seek after Him.

Have you grown weary of bringing some request before God? Maybe He is calling you to bring it again, then lay it at His sovereign feet and soak in the peace of His presence. I don't know how or when God will answer your fervent prayer, but I know that He suffered greatly on our behalf to enable us to bring any and every care to Him--and that He shares in our pain because He loves us more deeply than we can imagine. 

Sometimes it's scary to me to allow God to enter into my pain, sometimes I'm afraid to tell Him about my anger at Him and or to relinquish that anger to Him. But I find when I go through that process--and it can take a long time--that He does indeed carry me.

Seeking again to rest in His arms, Merry 

What was in the Bag?

If you were wondering what was in my Mother's Day surprise bag...

Me & my cheesy grin, they know I love cake! 

(By the way, that's my Grandma's daisy-necklace, it was fun to remember her on Mother's Day).  Yes, there was cake :-).  And it was heart-shaped.  And pink!  Actually, that wasn't in the bag though.  That was hidden (very sneaky of them!) on TOP of the refrigerator.  Even these guys looked all over but didn't find it!

Gerbils, quivering as they sniff out the cake

The bag had ice cream.  Two kinds!  Moose Tracks and Mint Chocolate chip (with no added food coloring, yay!)  No, I didn't share with Stuart and Rocka!

MY icecream!

Ok, I DID share with Dave and the kids.  (Since they bought it & all!).  But it's not like the gerbils are hurting for food...  Look at all that's left of their house in just 2 days!

Stuart (left) and Rocka, now almost as big as the remains
of their once well-crafted home.

Gerbils, Spies, and a Deprived Mother

"I've been a VERY good mommy this year!"

That's what I told my husband when I found this highly suspicious article in the freezer:

highly suspicious unnamed food item

"Tomorrow's Mother's Day.  Keep out."

Such cold-hearted words!

"You know, honey, if we followed the Jewish schedule, Mother's Day would start now."  Bat-bat (eyes).  Smile sweetly.

It wasn't working.  I tried the good mother bit again.

"How would you explain it to the kids?  They want you to be surprised tomorrow!"

"Easy.  Gerbils.  Stuart and Rocka can be VERY naughty boys!"  Now truly, this is a somewhat believable argument.  Oh sure, they LOOK innocent enough here...

Rocka (left) named after the Hero Factory hero,
and Stuart (right) for Stuart Little.

...but they could do it all right.  They're already eating themselves out of house and home:

Stuart sampling his house...

This was solid house before they got a hold of it, the true entrance is on the other side.  Shall we make little footprints in the (hopefully ice cream) in the freezer and be done with this?

Standing Guard...

"Hold it right there, Ma'am!"

"What?"

Secret Agent...

"Agent Gibbs?  Yes, I've apprehended the suspect.

Whatever's in there must be finger-waggin' good!

 "Uh-uh-uhhh.  Not this time!  Mother's Day doesn't start until tomorrow and by that I mean AFTER 12:00 noon!  Maybe 5:00 pm!"

I've been warned...

 "Go!"

Notice he couldn't resist a smirk!

Sigh.  Still no ice cream until tomorrow...

Happy Mother's Day everyone!

Find out what was in the bag!

More Power

"I can't get the blade off!" said my frustrated fifteen-year-old as he stormed into the room.  Earlier in the day, Dave had hurt his back trying to take the blade off our mower, and now our son was trying to remove it so that he could sharpen it.

With a calm that only can come from the Lord (because I'm not the most patient person!), I went down to see what I could do, even though my son is now stronger than I am.  Sometimes it's a matter of brain over brawn, or perseverance when impatience rushes in.

That nut sure did look like it was there to stay.  (No comments from the peanut gallery, I mean on the mower, not me!).  I tried the wrench...maybe he had reversed which way tightens and which reverses?  Right away I could see part of the problem--there's no way to get any leverage, the blade swings freely while you try to turn the nut.  I looked around for some options, and we tried having one of us stop the blade with a big monkey wrench while the other cranked on the nut.  We pushed in opposite directions with all our strength.  Nothing.

"See?!" he exclaimed. I saw.

I dug some grass that had caked on the bottom.

"That's not the problem!"

"I know, but I need to stop and think what to do here."  What we need is more power. 

I tested the waters:  "Maybe we'll need to ask one of our neighbors.  You and one of the men will be stronger than you and I."

He fiddled with something on the workbench but sounded like that might be worth considering.

"God," I prayed out loud, "we're really frustrated and we need your wisdom to figure this one out.  Please help us."

I went to find the owner's manual, that suggested using a block of wood to brace the blade while cranking the nut.  I started to think about leverage, wondering if I was using every advantage I could with the handle of the wrench when Dave came downstairs.

"I thought you were sleeping?"

"I was.  But suddenly I knew I had to get up and come down here."

God is so good!  We needed Dave's wisdom, and Dave needed to feel useful (my hero!)...and God answered all our needs!

Dave handed me the same wrench I'd been using, and a mallet.  I'm astounded by the physics--literally I barely tapped the handle of the socket wrench, and the nut turned right away.  Zach and I had used all our strength and that nut hadn't even budged!  We needed more power in every way...and God supplied.

A Grandparent's Legacy

What's the most important thing we can pass on to the next generation?  I can say without hesitation that I draw continually on the unconditional love my grandparents had for me, their faith in God, and their strength in the face of adversity.  Their strength, conviction, and love have given me a heritage to draw on as I face my husband's illness and disability.

I remember my grandma rising at 5:30 or 6 am to read her Bible—how she loved God's word!  And yet she was always willing to put it down to talk with me.  Sometimes she read to me.  I often wondered what intrigued her about the Bible, but I was willing to listen because she loved me.

Although I accepted Christ when I was seven years old, the year before my dad died of Kidney Disease, I wandered in my faith for a long time.  I know at times my grandparents must have wondered if I was truly saved at all--yet I always knew they still loved me, even if they didn't like what I was doing.  They called me, they wrote me, they spent time with me--they knew what was going on in my life.  They faithfully prayed for me for another 13 years before seeing God bring any answers.

"Who are you going to follow?" God seemed to ask when I was nineteen.  "Me—or the world?"

With the choice laid before me—and the loneliness and failure that sin and following the world had brought me so far, I knew there was only one choice to make.

My grandma died a few years after I chose to stop walking the fence between God and the world, and my grandpa died eight years later.  Now I often wish I could call one of them, ask their advice, draw on their strength—but God has said their legacy is sufficient for me.  When I question how I can continue on, I remember their faithfulness and how God sustained them—and I know He will sustain me too.

I wrote this poem for their 50th wedding anniversary:

 I remember so well those trips

through cornfields upon cornfields

or snowy midnights,

Mom and Dad pretending we were lost

on the way to your house.

Summer days full of laughter and tears,

card-playing, miniature golf,

pot roast with all the trimmings.

Then the dark shadow fell upon our house—

Dad was gone.

Grandma would say,"Why him and not me?

I would have gone in his place."

And there was Grandpa,

his tender eyes always there.

Through that sweet, sweet sadness

God revealed in His own time

His greater plan for us.

Summer days grew to years in school

impossible without you.

His Spirit has filled our house

with His love

poured out through you,

who have been ever-committed to us.

What a miracle to see

God ever-present in our family.

And even though we may sometimes squabble,

Yet now we are only a "poor reflection"

of what we then shall be.

May God's grace ever fill us

with the fullness of His love

and may we be ever-faithful servants.

Thankyou, Grandma and Grandpa

for the years you've invested in us

and the Gospel you've ingrained in our minds.

Surely God has engraved our hearts

and brought us together in His Word.

"Glory to God in the Highest

and on earth, peace to men

on whom His favor rests."  Luke 2:14

Happy Golden Anniversary

Invisible Illness, Visible God - Finished!

Some of you know that I've been working on a book for the last 10 or so years (longer if you count the years early in Dave's illness that I journaled, before I ever thought of writing a book).  In between taking care of Dave and the kids, homeschooling, working part time, and trying to breathe, I found snippets of time here and there to work on it.  Some years I worked on the book a lot, some it lay dormant, like a seed in the ground.  Cold, dark, resting--waiting to grow.

Last fall I attended a Women of Faith convention, and learned about a contest that WestBow Press was sponsoring.  The deadline gave me just under 4 months to finish up, and I wondered if I could do it.  I prayed and God cleared my Thursday afternoons and many Saturdays, so I set those aside for writing and revising.

My original journals went through several evolutions.  The first draft was mainly for me.  Sometimes I joke that I "unwrote" a book because my journals were so lengthy!  During the second draft I was trying to find my way...could this be a book that might interest and help others?  Two trips to Write-to-Publish and countless conversations, prayers, and experiments later, I settled on a devotional format.  Last fall I had a revised draft of about 2/3 of the book finished, and I spent the last 4 months finishing the final third and reworking the whole.

This week I finished, and entered the contest.  You can find a "sneak peak" on the page at the top of my blog:

Invisible Illness, Visible God
When Pain Meets the Power of an Indestructible Life
101 Devotions for Those with Chronic Illness and their Caregivers

The Grand Prize, of course, is publication of the winner's manuscript courtesy of WestBow Press, with the option that Thomas Nelson might decide to pick up the book.  Hundreds of people enter, and last year's winning entry looks like a quality book (I love Marcia Moston's title:  Call of a Coward).  The winners will be announced on March 31st.  While I'd love to win, my prayer is that a quality book will be chosen that glorifies God, and that whether through this opportunity or another, my book will be published.  I'm so thankful to be finished, and truly appreciate the support and prayers that many have given us.  The encouraging emails kept me going when I wondered if I should give up on such a big project.  Thank you!

Challah Bread: The Pinch

In our small group, my husband led us in a study of OT feasts that he called “Portrait of the Messiah,” because the feasts reveal so much about Jesus. When we studied the Sabbath, I made Challah bread, and found it an especially spiritually moving experience. These are my musings from that day:

Challah is traditionally a richer bread, made with eggs. Two loaves are served, reminiscent of the Lord providing a double portion of manna in the desert, so that the Israelites wouldn’t have to gather it on the Sabbath. A portion of the dough is pinched off in dedication to the Lord after saying a blessing. Originally the command was from Numbers 15:20 to give a portion of bread to the priests, a portion dedicated to the Lord. Today the pinch is to be burned.

“Mom, what’s a pinch?” my kids asked…and I too wondered, how much do I give to the Lord? (I remember the widow of Zaraphath who baked the last of her bread and gave some to Elijah…)

The simple act of pinching off a piece to dedicate to God reaches far into the soul. It’s like giving a bit of my life to God. Maybe there’s something I need to do but don’t want to—but I can pinch off that bit of time and dedicate it to the Lord and do what He has asked—suddenly there is joy in the task. Suddenly there is holiness.

Dedicated—irretrievable. What do we think we’ll dedicate to the Lord and then take back in our time or our money or other gifts—they were not meant to be accessible to us again. A dedication cannot be taken back. It is no longer ours—it belongs to the Lord.

Peace. Wheat that I ground (and they would also have grown), and then mixed—and then let rest. Dough that I kneaded, the heel of my palm pressing into the spongy form until it springs back and glistens—and then let it rest. Then braided and formed—let it rest again. And finally baked—and then it rests. Bread is full of resting.

Vulnerability. As if I have pinched off something of me in that pinch, because I was there in the making of it—as was He. There is no bread without rain, without land, without strength, without fire...or without the mysterious seed that somehow grows and becomes something new. And there is no bread unless we harvest, process, mix, knead, form, bake. A physical connection with the workings of God. The part that I give is so small—and what He gives fills the stomach and the soul. And so we pray over the pinch and connect with Him again.

I thought, I hold the pinch in the palm of my hand, about the size of an olive. I control so little—just this one piece of dough. I realized how small I really am. Our lives, all of our needs, my kids spiritual lives, my husband’s health, everything—is in the palm of the Lord’s hand. And so we, who can do nothing, appeal to the Lord for strength, healing, wisdom. If we have the power to help someone or to affect anything in our lives, it is from the Lord.

I hold the fate of this one piece of dough. Treat it as holy—dedicated to the Lord. But it is just a small offering.

What else is in our hands? The ability to help another. Treat the opportunity and especially the person, as holy. Dedicate our time, our possessions, whatever portion we can give—to the Lord. Give thanks to the One who enables us to give. And remember His rest, His peace.

The Sabbath meal is served without knives (or a knife is covered if one is needed), because it is a day of peace. The braiding of the bread means you can break off a chunk easily—no cutting needed. Peace—for today we lay down our weapons of war, whether wars between countries or wars between individuals. The lion lies down with the lamb. There are no knives used in the baking of the bread. Swords are pounded into plowshares. Hatred, anger, malice, revenge—all put aside to let peace reign in our hearts and allow the Lord to heal the wounds and touch our hearts.

The bread of life—we pinch off a tiny piece in trust. We are giving our food—and He becomes to us the Bread of Life, our Sustainer, Healer, Provider—He becomes the food that sustains and the Eternal Food.

My Dad Does Great Things With Me
by Zachary Marinello (age 6)  © 2003

Once before he married mommy, he was bitten by a deer tick. Then it gave him his Lyme disease.  Then when he married mommy, after 9 weeks and I was a baby, He played with me.  And now he tries to do great stuff.

He walks with me, and we went to the secret garden.  When we were in the secret garden, we saw a statue, and me and Anna climbed on it.  It was a dragon with a man standing on top of it.  It was just a statue, and me and Anna knew that.  Dad wondered who could tell about it, and we saw a rock with words on it, so we read it.  Then we saw a bridge.  There was no river, but it was a bridge anyway.  I went on it, and then we left.  Before we went to the secret garden, we played pretend tennis and then baseball.  Then we went mini-golfing.

And when he does great stuff with me, I feel so good with him that I feel he is without his Lyme disease.  But he is still having a painful day today and I know that.  And Daddy talks to his friends when he meets them at lunch.  If he stays home and gets a rest, he’ll get better and better, and his prescription will help him get better. God will help Daddy and he preached so people would know more and more about Jesus.  I love Dad.

When Zach wrote this, he was in first grade and his favorite subjects (that week) were history and math.  This was his first composition, and he chose the subject.  He liked Rescue Heroes, wrestling with his sister, and being read to.

Mom's note--Zach was born 8 years after we were married, not nine weeks!  Zach is a wonderful reminder that the most important things we do are those we do together.

See other Stories of Hope

What Child, What World?

Today in the Christmas choir we sang a unique arrangement by Audrey Snyder called The Coventry Child. In it she masterfully weaves a 16th century lament called The Coventry Carol which mourns the babies that a jealous and power-hungry Herod killed, with a more popular 16th century melody, What Child is This?

A haunting, lonely "lullay, lullay," mourns goodbye while notes of wonder ask what child has come--and well we might ask, what world has He come to? The nativity scenes we set up always look so peaceful, but the reality is that Christ was born to a lost and fearfully dark world full of tragedy and evil.

Out of darkness came a glorious light--though He was different than what they expected. They expected a political leader to come overthrow an oppressive government--and that was a serious need. Instead He came to overthrow something even more insidious and harmful, and to create not a temporary kingdom, but an eternal one. He came to save our souls.

Isaac Watts aptly expressed the juxtaposition in his hymn When I Survey the Wondrous Cross when he wrote, "Sorrow and love flow mingled down..." Jesus carried the evil of the world and the burden of all sin when He gave His life in love. He who suffered through no fault of His own knows intimately the pain of suffering--and when we suffer unjustly, we draw near, we understand a part of what He went through willingly.

Perhaps today Jesus is still different from what we expect. We long and look for the one who will overthrow the oppressive forces in our lives, and sometimes He does. But sometimes He overcomes them silently by strengthening us and enabling us to endure, because His kingdom is not of this world, and His purposes go beyond what we see in the here and now.

Lullay thou little tiny child...
What Child is this who laid to rest...
By by lully, lullay...
This, this is Christ the King...

As the strains of music encircle and interweave, the song reveals the identity of our Savior and ends not in the minor chord of a lament, but the major chord of the hope that has now come. The hope that is ours even now, that beacons, calls to each heart: even in the midst of suffering, now is the time of God's favor, now is peace with God. May His peace reign in your hearts this Christmas.

Merry :-)

The essence of life

Sometimes life can be so discouraging. This summer and fall have been a season of discouragement. Dave has been unable to read again. He wanted to teach our small group, but his body is not cooperating in so many ways.

I read another blog, Find Us Burning, tonight, and she had great truth in her post on Love. She wrote:

"I loved it when God told me that even if I was in a coma I could still fulfill His purpose for my life. That He would not be disappointed if I didn't lift another finger for Him. Everything I was doing on the outside, in the physical realm, was just extra...just a day job. This changed my life, the day I chose to believe this! It is such a special promise. To God, knowing Him and dwelling with Him, praising Him and trusting Him, this is the essence of Life."

To read her complete, and very worthwhile post, click here.

It might be easy to think that this is true for someone else--but it's very difficult to believe this for oneself.

It's not easy to give up our vision for what serving God should look like--and as Lindsay describes in her post, we can feel such anger over what God has taken when all we wanted to do was show God how much we love Him. For all that chronic illness steals--it cannot steal your worth and value to God, and it can't separate you from Him--even when it feels like it does.

Merry

Top 20!

Happy 20th Honey!

Can you believe it? We've been married TWENTY years! So, in honor of this momentous occasion, I thought I'd countdown the top 20 reasons I'm glad I'm married to my honey.

20. He knows I'm an abstract random and that these are not necessarily in any discernible order--but he loves me anyway!

19. Confessions: I was late for our own wedding! (Only 5 minutes or so. Hey, we were taking pictures with our 2 & 3 yo nieces, they were so cute! That was a worthy cause, right? Plus, brides don't wear watches, do they?) The poor groomsmen were all up front waiting for us ladies because the organist (who had a crush on the best man) started playing. I think she made it through Jesu Joy of Man's Desiring 3 times. (Sorry, honey!) Well, I'm still no good with time. But he loves me anyway!

18. The Lord knew I needed someone to help me plan ahead. Take the other day--Zach and I were going to the store to buy curtains for his room. We got halfway there and I said, "What size curtains do you need?" (he didn't know either!) "See, if your dad was taking you on this trip, he'd have measured!" (By the way, we never did make it home with curtains...)

17. Speaking of not making it home with what we set out for...I remember when we were first married and looking for couches--that time we came home with a roll-top desk that we both fell in love with. Then a month or so later we went into Walmart for hairspray (for these frilly, palm-frond decorations we bought for our couch-less livingroom)...and came out with couches! Yeah, freak occurence, Walmart somehow had a load of couches filling their aisles. Thanks for the spontaneous times, honey!

16. Oh, spontaneous reminds me of surprises--there was the time we worked a week at Camp Wonderland leading the Winter Camp, and then we were going to stay for another day afterward... Poor Dave thought it was going to be a quiet, intimate time with just the two of us. In a huge cabin that had rooms for like 20 people. (This one has a fireplace, honey, that's why they moved us here, honest!) Unbeknownst to him I had planned a surprise happy graduation party, as he was nearing the end of seminary. Friends started showing up one by one, and by the third or fourth person he "got it" that these were not coincidences and they were not leaving! (In his defense, reunions at camp are pretty normal, and he was very tired.) I think I owe you a night with a fireplace, Hon! But he loves me anyway!

15. A night in front of a fire--reminds me of camping on Washington Island, making pudgy pies, and going to People's Park up on the cliff and watching the sunset over Lake Michigan. The picture at the top of our blog is from People's Park. I can still hear the waves crashing against the rocks below, the peace we felt together there, "North of the Tension Line."

14. Speaking of tension, Dear, thanks for all the times you supplied me with maps and directions complete with exit numbers and landmarks. (See, I like to just "drive and then I get there." He's the practical one!) One time I drove to a wedding in Toledo that way--the tension was not mine, it was Dave's and he couldn't come along--I really didn't know where I was going, but along the way I met some friends at an oasis who were also going to the wedding, and I followed them! Yep, he loves me anyway...

13. Another tension-reliever: I think I have a bone to pick with you! Picking on my gullible nature! One time Dave told me about a weather-predicting toaster--it could dial up the internet and print an image on the toast depending on the forecast. Yep, I'm so gullible I'll believe anything! Not this time, I wasn't buying this one. Funny thing was, it really was a true invention! Laughter has been a true gift for both of us.

12. Number 12 goes to the 12-year-old! Our son Zachary, a very special gift to us. And even though he chases me around the house with a dart gun sometimes, he's made our lives richer. Thanks for our son, Honey.

(No, I don't know where Zach gets it from...)

11. Dave's a great father. He spends one on one time with our kids, teaches them respect and practical life skills and gives all of himself that he can to them. I'm glad to walk this parenting journey with you, Dave.

10. Have to dedicate this one to Princess Anna, our 10 yo daughter. She too is a wonderful gift. Our children have been a joy to know and raise and homeschool.

9. Speaking of homeschooling--Dave is my biggest cheerleader, encourager, and supporter. Sometimes I wonder what I'm doing, and he reminds me why we are on this path and not to lose heart.

8. Dave has taught me such important truths as the Fact-Faith-Feeling Train (and not to get the cars mixed up), and "the answer is always no unless you ask," (so don't "say no" for people if you need something--ask and let them have the opportunity to say no.)

7. For years of ministry together and the laughs--I remember the student from one youth group who said they could lock Dave and I in a room with nothing in it, and we'd still find a way to have fun. From Colorado to South Carolina--it's been quite a journey, Hon!

6. Dave is our "hunter-gatherer" we like to joke, but he does all of our grocery shopping. He may have to do it only a few items at a time, but he's a diligent and wonderful supplier. (It's a good thing, I'd just forget we need food until I was hungry anyway!)

5. My closest friend. The one who used to pluck my gray hairs for me (and thankfully no longer does, I'd be bald!)

4. The one who has taught me that sometimes the antidote to depression is to find someone to serve.

3. The man I respect and admire because of his honesty, character, and love for the Lord

2. The romantic who swept me off my feet when he gave me my first kiss and said, "That's a touch with a promise, a promise I intend to keep."

1. Because I can't think of anyone else I'd rather spend my life with. Happy Anniversary, My Love!

Need to save a couple hundred $?

On Mother's Day, Dave informed our dear little cherubs that their mother is priceless...and that they'd be getting the bill soon, LOL!

The kids tried to guess how much it would be & one of them said, "1.1 million dollars?" I said that sounded pretty good (Dave said it wasn't enough!).

Then when we were cleaning up, my sooo sweet son asked, "Can I help clean anything else?"

"Oh thank you honey, that was so sweet of you to ask..." I said, to which he replied,

"That ought to be worth a couple hundred off!"

LOL!

Oh my...

Merry :-)

Grace in our Time of Need Part 6 (conclusion): God Hears

Unanswered Prayers

A few years ago, during an advent service at church, I remember feeling so alone. The first unity candle, signaling our hope in Christ, was lit by a young couple and their two year-old daughter, her pigtails bobbing with each step. As I sat in my pew alone, I remembered when we were them, healthy and strong, ready to face the world, excited to be serving the Lord—and the tears started to flow. I have no hope today, God, I silently confessed.Our Sunday School class was struggling with questions I knew Dave could answer, if only God would release him to the service he loved. Instead Dave was home, left with no answer to the unthinkable question: Will I need to be taken care of for the rest of my life?

I know the question comes with the depression and anxiety of having a chronic illness. But that doesn't erase the pain of the question, or the agony of not knowing. There is a truth in there that Jesus understood. Remember in the Bible when Lazarus died, Jesus wept. He felt deeply the pain that Mary and Martha felt. It didn't matter that He knew He could bring Lazarus back to life—understanding didn't erase the pain of the moment. He called out to God, and God heard—and answered—and Lazarus was brought back to life.

And isn't that what we all long for, the God who answers with His power and love? Then we know our prayers have been heard.

But God doesn't answer simply yes—or no or wait awhile. When Jesus cried out to God the night before His death, "take this cup from me,” Hebrews 5:7-9 says He was heard. The passage reads, “During the days of Jesus' life on earth, he offered up prayers and petitions with loud cries and tears to the one who could save him from death, and he was heard because of his reverent submission. Although he was a son, he learned obedience from what he suffered and, once made perfect, he became the source of eternal salvation for all who obey him…”

God heard—but He didn’t remove the cup.

And God answered powerfully and with love as He strengthened Jesus' resolve to say "not my will, but yours be done."

We do not have a benign paternal God who looks down from on High with occasional sympathy. We have Emmanuel: God with us. The God whose Holy Spirit has chosen to dwell IN us. Do we stop to think what this means? The God who lived through intense anguish in His life on earth, continues to choose to live through it along with us. He doesn't merely see our pain; He says that "whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me." (Mt 25:40). He is hungry, thirsty, a stranger, naked, sick, and in prison, along with us. When He says "never will I leave you, never will I forsake you," He means to impart a depth of love and grace that if we truly understood it, would take our breath away.

What you and I live through, often involuntarily, God has chosen to live through with us, intimately, daily, weeping with us.Why He would choose pain rather than immediately use His power to "fix" everything, I don't know—but I have a glimpse of some possibilities. I think Jesus knows that power doesn't erase pain—He wept when Lazarus died, even though he then went on to raise him from the dead. When someone lives through something with us—really cares—they can comfort in a way someone more distant can't. On a deeper level I sense, as strange as this may sound, that God thinks we are worth the pain He goes through with us—and that the prize He is seeking is us, is relationship with us.

Would we understand what Jesus was willing to go through to woo us if we didn’t experience some of our own suffering? Could we truly know the love He has for us?

In us, and walking with us, God is making possible a relationship that will fulfill us so much that we will look back and think the pain was worth it, was miniscule in comparison. We can't see that now, but one day we will. Pour your heart out to God. Grief and depression can't be rushed—and they are not without purpose. God is a redeemer, and He will redeem this time, and restore your soul. Cling to Him.

Habakkuk 3:17-19 says, “Though the fig tree does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines, though the olive crop fails and the fields produce no food, though there are no sheep in the pen and no cattle in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will be joyful in God my Savior. The Sovereign Lord is my strength; he makes my feet like the feet of a deer, he enables me to go on the heights.”

The very sovereignty that allows our hard circumstances is the same sovereignty that protects us.

Finding our refuge in God means knowing He is good when life is not. He is sovereign when life seems out of control. He is loving when we feel alone or abandoned. His grace is sufficient for us and what we need will be there, even if what we want or think we need is not there. Seek first the Kingdom of God. Know that He hears when He appears silent, when it seems He is paying no attention. Know He answers—and He is near. He will give us grace in our time of need.

Grace in Our Time of Need, other posts:

~Part 1:  God's Joy
~Part 2:  God's Silence
~Part 3:  Can I Still Be Your God? 
~Part 4:  Lies and Truth
~Part 5:  God's Protection
~Part 6:  God Hears

Ps 71:20
Though you have made me see troubles, many and bitter, you will restore my life again; from the depths of the earth you will again bring me up.

Lam 2:19
"...pour out your heart like water in the presence of the Lord..."

Ps 73:21-26
When my heart was grieved and my spirit embittered, I was senseless and ignorant; I was a brute beast before you. Yet I am always with you; you hold me by my right hand. You guide me with your counsel, and afterward you will take me into glory. Whom have I in heaven but you? And earth has nothing I desire besides you. My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.

Ps 13:1-6
How long, O LORD? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me? How long must I wrestle with my thoughts and every day have sorrow in my heart? How long will my enemy triumph over me? Look on me and answer, O LORD my God. Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep in death; my enemy will say, "I have overcome him," and my foes will rejoice when I fall. But I trust in your unfailing love; my heart rejoices in your salvation. I will sing to the LORD, for he has been good to me.

See also Stories of Hope

Grace in our Time of Need Part 5: God's Protection

We have lost part of the protection of God in our world (after the "Fall" of Adam and Eve), and we live with the result—a world plagued with horror and disease and the atrocities of what one man does to another. Some people consider these things to be evidence that there is no God. However, I think Thomas Merton’s view is closer to the truth, he wrote:

“It is only the infinite mercy and love of God that has prevented us from tearing ourselves to pieces and destroying His entire creation long ago. People seem to think that it is in some way a proof that no merciful God exists, if we have so many wars. On the contrary, consider how in spite of centuries of sin and greed and lust and cruelty and hatred and avarice and oppression and injustice, spawned and bred by the free wills of men, the human race can still recover, each time, and can still produce men and women who overcome evil with good, hatred with love, greed with charity, lust and cruelty with sanctity. How could all this be possible without the merciful love of God, pouring out His grace upon us?” —A Thomas Merton Reader, pg. 40

If God has not extended to you the grace you wanted, the miracle healing, the return of a prodigal child, the freedom from wondering how you will make it until the next paycheck, the restoration of a marriage in trouble, relief from depression or anxiety, or maybe a past hurt such as abuse—if God has not extended you this grace, I humbly submit He has extended you another grace that is just as powerful and amazing. How could our faith remain, even thrive, if not for the grace of God? I think I would have crumbled long ago.

God has protected man throughout the ages by always ensuring there is a remnant who follows Him. We have no way of knowing how many things God really does spare us from, in His mercy. He lets us see the full extent of sin, how awful it is to live without God—and I believe it is in the hope that we will turn to Him, realize He is our only protection and hope. His desire is that we will allow Him to draw us near, to shelter us in His wings, to receive His love.

“Because you are my help, I sing in the shadow of your wings. My soul clings to you; your right hand upholds me.”
—Ps 63:7-8

***

What are God’s intentions towards me?

… to bind up the brokenhearted,

to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners,

to comfort all who mourn, and provide for those who grieve in Zion

to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair. They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the LORD for the display of his splendor. —Isaiah 61:1-3
Jesus’ Call…
Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls… —Matthew 11:28-29

Our Response to God…

Though the fig tree does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines, though the olive crop fails and the fields produce no food, though there are no sheep in the pen and no cattle in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the LORD, I will be joyful in God my Savior. The Sovereign LORD is my strength; he makes my feet like the feet of a deer, he enables me to go on the heights. —Habakkuk 3:17-19
Next time Part 6 (the conclusion): God Hears



Grace in Our Time of Need, other posts:

~Part 1:  God's Joy
~Part 2:  God's Silence
~Part 3:  Can I Still Be Your God? 
~Part 4:  Lies and Truth
~Part 5:  God's Protection
~Part 6:  God Hears

See also Stories of Hope