Momentarily

That early morning phone call disturbed the peace I thought was mine. It was a Friday in spring in 1995 when I was 23. My dad had suffered a "fatal cardiac event", and first responders were unsuccessful in their attempts to bring him back.

My world was muted in stunned silence while tremors of sadness and insecurity roared and vibrated uncontrollably at my core.

Through belief in God and faith in his plans, I was able to rebound and redirect, but Dad's death changed the way I lived. I was so grateful for the brightness and fullness with which my dad lived, and yet his sudden departure seemed to cloud my joy and hollow my hope.

No matter the complexities of my motivations, I like to think I've lived my adult life with intentional diligence, not taking anything for granted.

With grace, and also to a fault, I've spoken the truth. Likewise, with grace, and also to a  fault, I've opted to withhold it. But I've never lost consciousness that our days are vaporous and moments are fleeting.

One Friday morning this past spring, a mid-morning phone call disrupted the easy-going day I thought was mine. My co-worker had suffered a "fatal cardiac event", but first responders  successfully resuscitated him after several minutes had passed.

My day was paused as frenzied concern and critical priorities forced actions to fast-forward and caused thoughts to rewind.

I sat in the waiting room with his daughter in her twenties and pondered the parallels ... realizing it was only in those dreadful few moments of heart attack and cardiopulmonary resuscitation that our stories were similar. I never got another word with my dad, and she had already been back with hers to exchange several words and a few hugs. Their story was different. But the same.

I am 47 - the age my dad was when he died. This timely juxtaposition is not easily dismissed.
I consider fatal cardiac events, and I contemplate the resuscitation of heart and lungs.
Revival.

Over the past six months, I've watched as my co-worker - through wise choices and skilled therapy - has been rehabilitated and restored to an even better life than before. His body is strong and healthy. His mind is miraculously unharmed. His spirit is beautifully reformed with a humbly bold approach to his work and relationships.

For years I've lived as if the next breath were my last.
Perpetually processing the potential of  passing away.

Today I choose to live as though this breath is my first.
Recently resurrected.
Revived once again.

I want more than to merely survive another blip in the linear advance. I want to live renewed - thriving in breaths of purpose and rhythms of praise. Hopeful and unafraid that life is mist. Determined that the riches of wisdom won't be missed.

For these last 23 years I have lived with a sense that my time was borrowed ... burdened by the notion that things are uncertain, circumstances can change in an instant, and death is just around the corner. More fear than faith, honestly.

As I begin my third set of 23 years, I choose life: resurrection and abundance ... realizing things on earth are still uncertain, circumstances still change in an instant, but death is in the past. Less fear, more faith. Honestly.

Galatians 2:20 - "I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me."

Follow Through

Love is here! God is absolutely GOOD. (But you knew that.)

I share this with gratitude for days turning to years, the gift of patience, and the opportunity to glance back and see how far He has brought us. 

He has actually transformed my heart (in this tiny little area - please hold while we reach the fullness you are looking for) and healed this relationship. Yay for grace!! 

**********************************************

March, 2013: Welcome to my breakthrough!

Lately, God has been rephrasing the same question, and repeating His desires over and over ... as if something important is happening and He wants to make sure I don't miss it.

For days and days,

through conflict and crisis,

sermons and sisters,

guilt and grace,

scrolling ads and Bible study,

He has been speaking.

I love you. Love Me. Love Others.

Not a new message, right?

But a fresh word to renew my mind, refine my motivations and heal this deceptive heart of mine.

I love you.

He really loves me - not the "best-foot-forward" me ... the "just-as-I-am" me.

I have nothing to offer Him in return, and basically, my selfishness is a daily slap in the face to His provision. My impatience is a hindrance to His perfect will. My chronic unkindness towards Him and willful resistance toward His priorities prove my unworthiness.

But His kindness leads me to repentance. His grace is sufficient. 

He loves me with a love that never ends. He never gives up.

Love me. Love others.

All that He asks of me is that I love Him back and love other people in the same sacrificial way that He already loves us.

It will obviously take me the rest of my life to fully know and understand and live out the wisdom in this divine relationship.

Right now, there is someone in my life who doesn't seem to love me. (It's not you and it's not her either, so we're good.) I have spent too much time dissatisfied in this relationship ... wondering what I could do differently to earn or deserve their love. I'd even settle for kindness or just baseline human respect.

I've been praying for them.

And it's not working.

But today's breakthrough is this: Guess what? I don't love them.

I say I do. I've always said I do.

But I still want something in return. I have expectations. I am hurt. I feel unloved. I want to be validated and appreciated.

I. I. I.

Me.Me.Me.Me.Me.Me.ME!

(which is barely appropriate for opera singers with lemon wedges before a show)

I must LOVE this person. I must love them WELL.

Not waiting for them to deserve my efforts and concern.

Not waiting for them to reciprocate or return the affection.

This is not something that can be fabricated or faked.

God is going to have to do a miracle deep in my soul. He will have to change the way I see this person, the way I hear this person, the way I speak to this person. He'll have to give me a genuine desire to be around this person ... to want them to be near and dear to me ... like they are to God.

I believe God can and will do this because it aligns perfectly with His greatest desire.

I'll find my satisfaction and joy in Him.

He'll fill me up and I'll offer myself to be poured out.

He sets the example, supplies the strength; we humbly submit and joyfully serve.

"A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another. By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another." -John 13:34-35

"Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful;  it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

Love never ends." - 1 Corinthians 13:4-8

Thrilling Agony

I don’t know a lot about victory. I’m neither an athlete nor a conqueror. I know about hard work and careful preparation. I have won some awards and there are a few music-related trophies with my name on them. 

But to fight and struggle in order to win … this gives me a rash.

My short list of "successes", includes mostly the things that come naturally and easily to me.

My husband leads a small group of men who LOVE to win! But, he grieves over all the obstacles and snares our culture presents. He is well aware of the temptations John mentions in the Bible: “Lust of the eyes, lust of the flesh, and the boastful pride of life.”

With his best inspirational coaching voice, he has admonished them, “Guys, this is going to be a battle … every, single day of your life … so learn to be victorious today!” 

I know he means to inspire and equip them, but my passive, squeamish ears perceive discouragement when I think about this daily struggle we call ‘life'.

Safe and Secure

Thank the Lord for answered prayers! The following is a glimpse of my thoughts from four years ago. 

Reading through it ... giggling ... I sit in awe. Shaking my head. Humbled and overwhelmed by how foreign and powerless these fears seem to me today. (Not the physical stuff ... heights still scare me to death and back.) 

But I'm amazed at the courage He provides for the life adventures He designs. He is faithful to heal and help us grow. I look forward to reading this year's posts in a few years ... hoping for more evidence of His mercy and grace! 

July 2010
I finally opened "So Long Insecurity", my new book by Beth Moore. It may be noteworthy that I struggled with anxiety about even reading a book with "Insecurity" in the title.

Whisper it gently, "(head case)!"
Thirty-six pages have now entered my consciousness.

Committed

I have trust issues. With humans mainly. I don't like it when people are dishonest. There are a lot of folks who simply don't tell the truth. If I interact with very many in a row, I'm sorta ready to live out my days in a cave.

When I was young, my family endured a betrayal of sorts. After that pivotal season, though what we understood of forgiveness had been offered, we each had to navigate relationships through wounded feelings. I subconsciously decided to dive deep into a dream world of denial. "Everything is fine. If it's good, it's probably not that good, and if it's bad, I simply cannot know about that ... things are really fine."

When circumstances looked favorable, I quickly considered all the many ways they could shift -without warning - toward my demise. When life was hard, it instantly proved all my fears were merited ... until the next second when I would ignore my honest feelings, deny any hurt, suck up any emotions, and move on. Healthy? Not quite.

AMH: Sharper in Real Life

 
"Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their labor:  If either of them falls down, one can help the other up. But pity anyone who falls and has no one to help them up." Ecclesiastes 4:10

I'm blessed to be blogging over at A Martha Heart today.


Click here to be a part:)

A Thrilling Agony

I don’t know a lot about victory. I’m neither an athlete nor a conqueror. I know about hard work and careful preparation. I have won some awards and there are a few music-related trophies with my name on them, but to fight and struggle in order to win … this gives me a rash.

If you were to list the things in my life where I find "success", you would notice it includes many of the things that come naturally and easily to me.

My husband leads Bible study with high school boys. They all LOVE to win! However, he grieves over all the obstacles and snares our culture presents these young men. He is well aware of the temptations John mentions in the Bible: “Lust of the eyes, lust of the flesh, and the boastful pride of life.”

With his best inspirational coaching voice, he has admonished them, “Guys, this is going to be a battle … every, single day of your life … so learn to be victorious today!” (I love that guy:)

I know he means to inspire and equip them, but my passive, wimpy ears perceive discouragement when I think about this daily struggle we call ‘life’.

AMH: Mommy Moment

Sharing some fresh fruit over at
A Martha Heart today.

Click and Enjoy:)

AMH: Bigger Picture

Today I'm posting over at A Martha Heart.

I hope you'll click the link and pop over to enjoy!

Indicators

As I came over the hill, I quickly approached the car in front of me. They were driving very slowly in the right lane, but had their left blinker on. I slowed my pace, offering them the opportunity to change lanes. No movement. Just 20 mph in the right lane with the left turn signal steadily blinking.

Exasperated with their miscommunication and annoyed by the apparent squandering of my patience and generosity, I jerked over to the left lane and passed them ... and passed judgement like a jerk.

"What in the world? Decide what you want to do! Learn how to drive or get out of my way...grumble rarr."

As I rolled my eyes and glared into my rear view mirror, I was sobered by what I saw.

From the front of the car, I could tell they actually had their hazard flashers on. So apparently, their rear right turn indicator was non-functional. They were driving slowly with hazards on which is not only acceptable, but perfectly logical and appropriate. But this was not the conclusion to which I had jumped from behind them.

What's the moral of the story?

I can really put the "jerk" in "knee-jerk" reactions.

And ...

When folks in our lives seem to be in the way or causing trouble, or when people don't make a lot of sense, and our attempts to offer them solutions fail, we should just be patient. Be kind and don't judge. It could be that from a different vantage, we might realize they are in crisis and dealing with some brokenness.

Everyone has hurts and habits and hang-ups. Some just aren't ready, or don't know how to fully communicate it. We all need love. Period.

Ring it Out

This journey of recovery can be messy business.

Step 4: "We made a searching and fearless inventory of ourselves."
"Let us examine our ways and test them, and let us return to the Lord." -Lamentations 3:40

As I take note of past hurts, harmful habits, and selfish hang-ups, I just keep digging up dirt. Skating through life pacified and numbed by my own pride and denial was much simpler ... in the short term. In an effort to surrender my life to the Lord for long-term, deep cleaning, I must continue to look for things about which to be brutally honest.

I feel like I'm constantly dealing with nasty mop water.

Lessons from the Loo

 
(From the archives: originally posted in 2008. Revisited for CR.)

Last night we were in some friends' home, when Mari needed to use the facilities. I followed her down the hallway and into their bathroom. Around another corner was a small alcove which housed the toilet.

As I helped her up, I noticed something surprising for a bath motif. Just beside the toilet, in the corner, stood a tall, bright torch lamp. "A lamp in a potty?" I was mesmerized by the notion.

I glanced down at the tile. Spotless. I scanned the baseboards. Pristine. Two primary thoughts were competing for attention in my mind.

 #1 Wow! There's no question that this bathroom is clean.

Presentable

The other morning, Philip and I ran some early morning errands. Before the household was fully awake, he and I left to drop off one car, then get the oil changed in another. As we drove back toward home, he asked if he could take me to breakfast. I crinkled up my nose at the notion of going into "public" with a ball cap on and no make-up.

He stared at me like I was crazy.

"You look really cute!" He blurted out with sincere adoration. He could not see or comprehend my perceived problem.

With gentle patience, he compromised by going through a drive-thru. We were still able to enjoy our last few moments of morning togetherness before we each had to begin our regular morning routines; and there would be other days in which to argue about my ridiculousness.

Yes Ma'am!

May is the busiest month of our lives.  It makes December look like a giant yawn. One school year is concluding, while plans for the next are being solidified. Everyone is playing ball. Or coaching ball. The rest are watching from folding chairs while slurping frozen tubes of colored sugar water.

This spring we have been heavily involved in the initiation of Celebrate Recovery with our church.  Then there is the planning and preparing for all the weeks of summer ministry. It takes many hours just to get face time with each of the kids. Throw in a touch of housework, a little piano playing, some writing projects, and all-night thunderstorms, and we're swamped!

Who We Really Are

I remember my shock as she offered her wisdom - this lovely lady, proper and soft-spoken.

"Our husbands just don't always do the right thing, do they?" She was gracious and kind, with no hint of malice or resentment. I had viewed her tidy, tender marriage from afar, and her humble honesty furrowed my brow.


#1.  Her husband messed up?
#2.  She was displeased with him at times?
#3.  She was admitting these things in public?

Somewhere along the way, I heard a [well-intended] message about consistently building up one's husband and protecting his dignity, calling and reputation.  This positive notion took a negative twist when bondage to my own pride and reputation compelled me to only speak positively - even when we were in crisis. And I carried the concept through almost every aspect of my life...parenting, health, discipleship, and family management.


While I aced every quiz in "How to put your best foot forward", I missed the class on "How to share your REAL struggles honestly with others". So a thousand times, I've slathered on a stage smile and dishonestly uttered the words, "I'm fine", and promptly changed the subject.


Like some items of clothing are reserved for "just around the house".
There are some sentences that are simply not cute.

Sadly, I spent many years protecting the general public from what I assumed they had no need to see.  Meanwhile, I allowed this obsession to express to those in my home that outsiders' opinions are more important than our healing within. This exhausting PR campaign crowded with "how life should be"s and "what I hope you think of me"s has brought me to a weary place of surrender.

The approval of God is all I seek.
I'm so grateful for friends who have braved the jungle of my defences in order to offer me a safe sounding board and gentle truth.  I now realize my total honesty to a limited few has been self-serving and anchored in fear.  I also thank God for beautifully transparent people - those whose integrity and humility allow God's truth to shine so bright - warm and comforting.

I pray He will allow me to be the kind of friend who is both a courageous confidant and a fearless vessel of His Light.

Every secret, every shame
Every fear, every pain
Live inside the dark
But that's not who we are
We are children of the day

We are the light of the world
We are the city on a hill
We are the light of the world
We gotta, we gotta, we gotta let the light shine!
~ Kari Jobe

A Good Grief

Be honest.  How would you react?  Even if you could guard your facial expressions, what would go through your mind and heart?

What if I told you I struggled with alcoholism?  Would you think less of me?

What if I told you I had an abortion when I was younger?

What if I struggled with outbursts of anger?  Would you want me to keep your kids?

Blame Game

I'm absolutely done.

It is so counter-intuitive, that I lack the motivation to even try to rationalize it.

Here's the riddiculous game. 
For most of my life, everything less than lovely in my life has been blamed on someone or something else. Everything.

My bad mood?  Rowdy kids.  Change of plans. Lack of coffee.  Your poor choices.
(Couldn't possibly have anything to do with the dust on the abandoned Bible.)

My failure to succeed?  Past hurts.  People's opinions.  Present obstacles. Perceived expectations. Possibility of future failures.
(Couldn't be my fear, my pride, or my laziness.)

Save Me

I have a Gateway Worship book that I like to play through and sing.  For years, I skipped over a beautiful song entitled, "Save Me."  I suppose the good girl in me simply saw it as a check mark on a list.  "Save Me".  Got it.  I'm Saved.  I don't need to sing that one.

I know God has saved me from my sins.  The blood of Jesus continually and completely provides forgiveness.  And I believe this.

But God has offered to rescue me from ME.  The resurrected body of Christ signifies life available to me so that I might live abundantly.  It would not appear that I fully believe this. 

I continue to strive and serve and produce and perform.
This ME living.  Not Christ living in me.
I am my own enemy in the battle for surrender. 
(Yes, surrender seems to be a battle for me, at times.)

Now I sing this song several times a week.









"I love you, O LORD, my strength. 

 The LORD is my rock and my fortress and my deliverer,
my God, my rock, in whom I take refuge...

I call upon the LORD, who is worthy to be praised,
and I am saved." ~ Psalm 18 

Witness Protection

Maybe I've watched one too many crime dramas.  But this week, as I grappled with God's plan to make all things new, He showed me a cool picture of my new life in Him. 

Witness Protection.

"Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come!" 2 Corinthians 5:17

A new identity.
A fresh start.
The only option for real safety.

No evidence of my history...my former life.
He creates in me and for me - a new story.

(I become the righteousness of Christ. ` Philippians 3:9)

But leaving the old life can seem inconvenient or even scary.
There may be aspects of that old life that you think you'll miss -
relationships that beg to stow away, lifestyles that tug to carry over.

Reality says your life is in danger.
The only way to save your life and truly live is accept this new life.
And for that, you must -in essence- die.

But contrary to the purpose of witness protection, and keeping your testimony a secret, the beauty of being God's protected witness, is that you are free to share your story...your whole story...including the old that is now gone, and the new that is grace.

"For you have died, and your life is hidden in Christ with God." Colossians 3:3
We have been placed into safety and liberated to live & share life freely.

Patience in a Perfecting Love Story

Philip and I had a rough season.  Our anniversary always falls after the holiday rush, and near the conclusion of deer season and annually, I find myself almost fed up with my life....feeling alone, neglected, unmotivated, cranky and loserish.  

 

After 18 years of marriage, I'm just done-done hashing it all out. I got to the [ugly cry] moment where I no longer needed to be right. I didn't even need him to change anything. I was just done. Not "I'm leaving" done.   Just "worn slap out, not striving any longer" done.

 

 So, I had a smallish meltdown.

At the rocky bottom, I cried out to one friend.  A friend without the appearance of a perfect life...who shares her humanity...and the unconditional love of Jesus.  She listened to my ugliness and hurt and she prayed with me.