I stare at the floor. The room around me buzzing with the sound of scurrying feet and screaming voices. The boys are chasing one another again as I sit here in the rocking chair, rocking Lena. I have three kids. Well, three living kids.
My heart aches as I think there should be another little skittering set of feet in that game of chase. But then, my heart constantly aches these days. I find myself in this same blur of inactivity... just staring. I am empty. I feel there is no stirring in this heart of mine other than pangs of remembrance and pangs of recognition. Remembrance of Owen. Recognition of this void in my faithfulness. Where has my joy gone? Yes, I find joy in my family at times, but it is incomplete. It feels lacking. It is not the full joy intended by the One who gave me this family, this life. Yet... I know why this joy is lackluster. I know how to wipe away the blurry film that is clouding my vision. I just don't.
Why is it when I need God most (which by the way is always) I try to fend for myself before going to my Father for help? (Which by the way is ALWAYS) I have relied upon myself for far too long now and have in essence dug a hole that goes deep. It is dark in this hole. It is dark, damp and lonely. In a house full of kids who want nothing more than my undivided attention, I feel alone and unnecessary. I feel undesirable. I feel empty. I feel... but nothing I want to feel.
My head (AKA sinful flesh) plays tricks on me. "Lindsey, you don't need God. Just put on some upbeat music, have a cup of coffee, and spend a little time chatting online... THEN, you will feel better." Yes, head, you're right. I feel better... thanks. And then I stop doing those things and go back to that dark hole. I keep digging, with a dull spoon, through the hard stone and firmly packed clay. It is hard work, tiring work, unnecessary work. What is my goal? Where am I digging to? Wait. Don't I want to be going the other direction? My mind tells me no. My heart tells me yes... my mind usually wins.
I am a very logical person by nature. If you have ever come to me with a problem, I am very practical in the suggestions for resolving the matter. I like tangible things. I like to see results. I am not patient... Taylor can attest to this. I am the polar opposite of patient. There is something very gratifying in fixing things or finding a clever solution. It plays a beautiful melody to my prideful heart, and I am pretty sure this is the very reason I love creating things. Whether it is sewing, crocheting, cooking... you name it, if it is creating a useful product... I love it. Too much. It also make me feel as though I have power or control over the situation when I can fix it.
Here enlies my "hole." My mind is telling me to just keep trying solutions, bandaids if you will, for the way I am feeling. My heart tells me to cry out to God, but my mind continues to remind that prideful heart how good it feels to be the author of the solution. My pride has gone before my fall... and boy did I fall hard and deep. I can only see the Sonlight ever so often. The walls of my hole are pretty high above my head and block out most of the Light. These prideful walls that were created by my own hands. I don't feel very accomplished in this creation. I certainly didn't want to take a picture of these walls and post them on Facebook to brag about. Not like my other outward creations. But then, a picture wouldn't come close to showing the deep pains. The aching, longing, and yet reckless disregard. I know Who can fill this hole. I know Who can remove this prideful heart and nonsensical mind. I know. I just don't act. so... I sit. I this damp, dark, lonely hole. I have forgotten how to ask for help. I have forgotten to call out to those in the Light up there on solid ground. I have hit the shifting sands under the top layers of this earth and am along for the ride... I want out. I NEED out. I need help. Please pray for me. That the Light would reach me, warm me... and that I would remember how to truly seek out that help I so desperately need now.
I want to bury my sorrows and downtrodden feelings in that hole... not reside with them in it.
Lord, I know you hear me from this dark place I have created. I am alone... and longing for your warmth. I ask, Lord, that you would renew my joy. I am at a loss of words. You know my heart. You know my deepest darkest hours, thoughts, fears... You and You alone know how to minister to this heart of mine. So please, Lord, forgive me of my sins. Forgive me of my disregard and ignorance. Forgive me, O God the Father, and replace my sorrows with Joy. Replace my longing with Fulfillment. Replace my my wrongful thinking with Your thoughts, Your loving embrace is all I desire. Please, Lord, please create the change I can not. I can do nothing apart from you, Lord. I thank you for that, and ask all these things in Jesus' holy name. Amen.
LL
Friday, June 27, 2014
Friday, June 6, 2014
Long Time, No See
This weekend I was blessed with a visit from a very near and dear friend. We often get mistaken for sisters as we are built similarly, have the same curly hair, and we even mother our kids very similarly. It is a unique friendship. A friendship that now spans three generations. Our moms are great friends, we are great friends, our kids are great friends... well okay, Hank may not have won over any hearts this weekend with his rough and tumble ways, but give it a year or two. :)
I have known this sweet "sister" since high school. She actually was my "big sis" on drill team, and IS my sister in Christ, so the term is both entertaining and truthful. We joke about our 6 year olds one day being married to further solidify the bond between our families, but it wouldn't be necessary. She is in my heart always. I'll refer to her as K.
While spending time with my "sister," we had a very deeply needed conversation. I have been struggling with many unearthed emotions lately and yet, they have a way of uncontrollably leaving my lips when this cherished sister is near. I have no guard up with her. K has such a tender heart. She so patiently listened while I spewed out all my complaints, worries and frustrations.
I have been in a dry spell since moving back from Korea. I feel as though the rug was pulled out from under me when we got home. The church I thought we'd attend... we don't attend. The people I thought I'd spend the most time with... I hardly ever see. The place I thought we'd be living... we abandoned after only a few months. It was hard. I had a very difficult time being content with my lack of familiarity and simply adjusting to change. Change. Something that is constant... yet I CONSTANTLY have such opposition towards change. It makes for a very unhappy person when you cannot roll with the punches. I am a very unhappy person lately.
In talking with K, I described my difficulties in building relationships. How when I reach out to someone, that door seems to be slammed in my face. Either the other person is not motivated to pursue the friendship, they move away, or life is just too busy. In any case, my feelings have been hurt many a time these past couple of years as I try to build up a base of believing friends. It didn't dawn on me until the words came out of my mouth while talking to K, that perhaps God was pushing these "friendships" away from me so I would learn to rely on Him first and foremost for contentment, acceptance, and companionship. Two years. Two long, lonely years. I have struggled to feel accepted, to feel like I belong. All this time, God was trying to tell me I DON"T belong. This world is not what I should be chasing. These relationships are not what I should prioritize ahead of my most important relationship. The only relationship that will last through eternity and will not fade or pass with the passing of this world. The one relationship I was NOT pursuing.
There, I said it. I have been chasing selfish desires, but hose desires were not for the Lord. I had so quickly forgotten Who gives and Who takes. Who builds up and Who tears down. I had forgotten Who had made me to desire fellowship. I had forgotten. And so I pursued temporary joys again. And rooted my happiness in my present situation rather than in my eternal blessing and salvation. I was slowly sinking in my own selfish sorrows.
While K and I were talking, something she said stuck out to me. She said 'Here I was thinking I had mastered my emotions and that I was at peace, but the very next day, someone would talk about my struggle... or share their joy... and I would think "God, I really didn't learn my lesson, did I."' That was a scary thought for me.
Have I learned my lesson, God? I don;t think God always punishes us to teach us. In fact, many times answered prayers have brought me to tears as I reflect on just how intricately God had to orchestrate life for that to come about. I also think "punish" is not really a word we should ever use when talking about how God treats his children. He disciplines us, restores us, rebuilds us and reveals to us that our ways are so different from His. I KNOW the loss of Owen was not a punishment. But it is by far one of the biggest events in my life in which He has changed me.
Owen passed away at about 7 weeks old. Lena is almost 7 weeks old. It just hit home when K asked "Did I learn my lesson?"
Did I listen? Truly listen to what God is or was trying to teach me? Am I really changed?
I don't usually fear that God will take Lena to be with Him as He did for Owen, but I DO think about whether his death was in vain or not.
Was Owen's death in vain? No. Just the other day, a friend told me she was forever transformed by Owen's life and death. So maybe I was asking the wrong question... I was. But I was on the right track... it wasn't Owen's death that I was treating half-hazardly. It was Christ's. I was forgetting what Christ had done for me. How that impacted every moment of my life. Every relationship, every everything. I change nothing. I master nothing.
Here I was thinking that it was within my power to master my emotions and yet I was a hot mess. I thought I could create friendships, and yet I had essentially harvested only a very few.
Jeremiah 17:5 says "Cursed is one man who trusts in man, who depends on flesh for his strength and whose heart turns away from the Lord."
I DO feel cursed, but it was self-inflicted. I place the blame nowhere else. I place the healing that needs to happen only in one place... the feet of Jesus.
I have known this sweet "sister" since high school. She actually was my "big sis" on drill team, and IS my sister in Christ, so the term is both entertaining and truthful. We joke about our 6 year olds one day being married to further solidify the bond between our families, but it wouldn't be necessary. She is in my heart always. I'll refer to her as K.
While spending time with my "sister," we had a very deeply needed conversation. I have been struggling with many unearthed emotions lately and yet, they have a way of uncontrollably leaving my lips when this cherished sister is near. I have no guard up with her. K has such a tender heart. She so patiently listened while I spewed out all my complaints, worries and frustrations.
I have been in a dry spell since moving back from Korea. I feel as though the rug was pulled out from under me when we got home. The church I thought we'd attend... we don't attend. The people I thought I'd spend the most time with... I hardly ever see. The place I thought we'd be living... we abandoned after only a few months. It was hard. I had a very difficult time being content with my lack of familiarity and simply adjusting to change. Change. Something that is constant... yet I CONSTANTLY have such opposition towards change. It makes for a very unhappy person when you cannot roll with the punches. I am a very unhappy person lately.
In talking with K, I described my difficulties in building relationships. How when I reach out to someone, that door seems to be slammed in my face. Either the other person is not motivated to pursue the friendship, they move away, or life is just too busy. In any case, my feelings have been hurt many a time these past couple of years as I try to build up a base of believing friends. It didn't dawn on me until the words came out of my mouth while talking to K, that perhaps God was pushing these "friendships" away from me so I would learn to rely on Him first and foremost for contentment, acceptance, and companionship. Two years. Two long, lonely years. I have struggled to feel accepted, to feel like I belong. All this time, God was trying to tell me I DON"T belong. This world is not what I should be chasing. These relationships are not what I should prioritize ahead of my most important relationship. The only relationship that will last through eternity and will not fade or pass with the passing of this world. The one relationship I was NOT pursuing.
There, I said it. I have been chasing selfish desires, but hose desires were not for the Lord. I had so quickly forgotten Who gives and Who takes. Who builds up and Who tears down. I had forgotten Who had made me to desire fellowship. I had forgotten. And so I pursued temporary joys again. And rooted my happiness in my present situation rather than in my eternal blessing and salvation. I was slowly sinking in my own selfish sorrows.
While K and I were talking, something she said stuck out to me. She said 'Here I was thinking I had mastered my emotions and that I was at peace, but the very next day, someone would talk about my struggle... or share their joy... and I would think "God, I really didn't learn my lesson, did I."' That was a scary thought for me.
Have I learned my lesson, God? I don;t think God always punishes us to teach us. In fact, many times answered prayers have brought me to tears as I reflect on just how intricately God had to orchestrate life for that to come about. I also think "punish" is not really a word we should ever use when talking about how God treats his children. He disciplines us, restores us, rebuilds us and reveals to us that our ways are so different from His. I KNOW the loss of Owen was not a punishment. But it is by far one of the biggest events in my life in which He has changed me.
Owen passed away at about 7 weeks old. Lena is almost 7 weeks old. It just hit home when K asked "Did I learn my lesson?"
Did I listen? Truly listen to what God is or was trying to teach me? Am I really changed?
I don't usually fear that God will take Lena to be with Him as He did for Owen, but I DO think about whether his death was in vain or not.
Was Owen's death in vain? No. Just the other day, a friend told me she was forever transformed by Owen's life and death. So maybe I was asking the wrong question... I was. But I was on the right track... it wasn't Owen's death that I was treating half-hazardly. It was Christ's. I was forgetting what Christ had done for me. How that impacted every moment of my life. Every relationship, every everything. I change nothing. I master nothing.
Here I was thinking that it was within my power to master my emotions and yet I was a hot mess. I thought I could create friendships, and yet I had essentially harvested only a very few.
Jeremiah 17:5 says "Cursed is one man who trusts in man, who depends on flesh for his strength and whose heart turns away from the Lord."
I DO feel cursed, but it was self-inflicted. I place the blame nowhere else. I place the healing that needs to happen only in one place... the feet of Jesus.
Saturday, May 25, 2013
Confessional booth
I struggle with how much to confess and bare open to the world when it comes to my struggles. I feel at times that this is my confessional booth. To some extent, I suppose it is, but not fully. I take these hidden faults to the Lord first, but in need of prayer, I turn to those willing to listen and lift.
I struggle with the same sin and temptation of the flesh as any other human being. I make the same mistakes over and over. I do what feels good at times instead of what is right. I think of myself before others often. I fall short as a wife, mother, daughter, sister and friend. I am a worldly person with worldly desires. I have anger issues. I am fallen. I am no different from the people living next door, or below us, or across the hall. At least, I have been living like I am no different. Truly though, I am very different. I am forgiven. I am redeemed. I am made clean. I am a daughter of I AM. I am continually being sanctified by HIS truth, HIS life, HIS death and HIS ressuection. So nothing of my own accord, but the Father God, through His Son... THE only Son, bought me back from the chains of slavery to sin. I chose God, long after He chose me. You might think this is a story about me. But it is not. The person typing this biography is of little importance. The person writting these thoughts desires to be so transparent, that you would see CHRIST in her, and not the fleshly body she endwells. Christ. Colossians 3:2-3 "Set your mind on the things above, not on the things that are on earth. For you have died and your life is HIDDEN with Christ in God." We are hidden with Christ in God. Wow. I sure don't feel that way sometimes. In fact, I feel like I have so much worldly make-up on that you can't even identify who this person is, let alone Who she is hidden with or in.
This forgiven sinner had been falling short again. She had allowed satan to make for her beautiful friendship bracelets. She had been flaunting them and adding to them. Soon, this poor girl was so weighted by the bracelets, that it began to bend her over until she bowed down. Finally... she was alerted to her dirty deeds, her brokeness. To her vanity and pride. To her selfish indulgences. She was burdened with heavy loads. Knowing that these bracelets were easily removed, she began to ask of her Father to cut them off one by one. Soon, the weight became light enough that she no longer needed to bow down low to the ground. She was able to lift her head, her gaze... upward. There, she could see the Light. She could feel the warmth from the Son. She turned to look back at that earthen ground after looking into the light for a time and realized the colors were not as brilliant as she'd remembered them before. The bracelets that lay cut on the ground were no longer as appealing or flattering as she once chose to believe. Her hands constantly becoming lighter from her Father's repeated answer to her pleading. She couldn't help but lift her hands as the bracelets dropped. As the last bracelet fell back toward the tempter, her arms reached full extension and she felt the warm returning embrace of her Protector. It felt so sweet, so perfect, so tender, so pure. She had been away from it for so long, she had almost forgotten that untainted Joy. She had almost forgotten how lovely His Love was, is, will always be. Oh how quickly she forgets. But even more quickly, He forgives... again and again and again. Never failing, always constant. Love. How easily other idols imitate that Love and distract this poor girl. How quickly she gives in to the desire to be loved by anyone and anything that claims to. Satan and his smooth words, his sly ways. We must gird ourselves. We are at war. Constantly.
I am reminded of the need to put on the full armor of God each morning to prepare for the daily battle. To guard my heart from the piercing arrows of lust and selfishness that Satan's soldiers shoot. Without that armor, without knowing God's battle plan, I could become a prisoner of war again. Trapped in a cell of my own sin. I am tired of being a slave to my own sin. I have been behind these self made prison walls for far toooooo long. I have confessed and laid bare m sins before the Lord. I know that He is Good. I know that He is Faithful. I just need prayer. I need someone to go before me in the battle lines against Satan until I regain my strength. I need a few front runners.
Would you be my foot soldiers? Would you pray protection from Satan's arrows? I ask that you would pray for my weaknesses, that they be made into strengths by God for God. To Him be the glory and honor. Forever, Amen.
LL
I struggle with the same sin and temptation of the flesh as any other human being. I make the same mistakes over and over. I do what feels good at times instead of what is right. I think of myself before others often. I fall short as a wife, mother, daughter, sister and friend. I am a worldly person with worldly desires. I have anger issues. I am fallen. I am no different from the people living next door, or below us, or across the hall. At least, I have been living like I am no different. Truly though, I am very different. I am forgiven. I am redeemed. I am made clean. I am a daughter of I AM. I am continually being sanctified by HIS truth, HIS life, HIS death and HIS ressuection. So nothing of my own accord, but the Father God, through His Son... THE only Son, bought me back from the chains of slavery to sin. I chose God, long after He chose me. You might think this is a story about me. But it is not. The person typing this biography is of little importance. The person writting these thoughts desires to be so transparent, that you would see CHRIST in her, and not the fleshly body she endwells. Christ. Colossians 3:2-3 "Set your mind on the things above, not on the things that are on earth. For you have died and your life is HIDDEN with Christ in God." We are hidden with Christ in God. Wow. I sure don't feel that way sometimes. In fact, I feel like I have so much worldly make-up on that you can't even identify who this person is, let alone Who she is hidden with or in.
This forgiven sinner had been falling short again. She had allowed satan to make for her beautiful friendship bracelets. She had been flaunting them and adding to them. Soon, this poor girl was so weighted by the bracelets, that it began to bend her over until she bowed down. Finally... she was alerted to her dirty deeds, her brokeness. To her vanity and pride. To her selfish indulgences. She was burdened with heavy loads. Knowing that these bracelets were easily removed, she began to ask of her Father to cut them off one by one. Soon, the weight became light enough that she no longer needed to bow down low to the ground. She was able to lift her head, her gaze... upward. There, she could see the Light. She could feel the warmth from the Son. She turned to look back at that earthen ground after looking into the light for a time and realized the colors were not as brilliant as she'd remembered them before. The bracelets that lay cut on the ground were no longer as appealing or flattering as she once chose to believe. Her hands constantly becoming lighter from her Father's repeated answer to her pleading. She couldn't help but lift her hands as the bracelets dropped. As the last bracelet fell back toward the tempter, her arms reached full extension and she felt the warm returning embrace of her Protector. It felt so sweet, so perfect, so tender, so pure. She had been away from it for so long, she had almost forgotten that untainted Joy. She had almost forgotten how lovely His Love was, is, will always be. Oh how quickly she forgets. But even more quickly, He forgives... again and again and again. Never failing, always constant. Love. How easily other idols imitate that Love and distract this poor girl. How quickly she gives in to the desire to be loved by anyone and anything that claims to. Satan and his smooth words, his sly ways. We must gird ourselves. We are at war. Constantly.
I am reminded of the need to put on the full armor of God each morning to prepare for the daily battle. To guard my heart from the piercing arrows of lust and selfishness that Satan's soldiers shoot. Without that armor, without knowing God's battle plan, I could become a prisoner of war again. Trapped in a cell of my own sin. I am tired of being a slave to my own sin. I have been behind these self made prison walls for far toooooo long. I have confessed and laid bare m sins before the Lord. I know that He is Good. I know that He is Faithful. I just need prayer. I need someone to go before me in the battle lines against Satan until I regain my strength. I need a few front runners.
Would you be my foot soldiers? Would you pray protection from Satan's arrows? I ask that you would pray for my weaknesses, that they be made into strengths by God for God. To Him be the glory and honor. Forever, Amen.
LL
Saturday, July 14, 2012
Approaching.
As the anniversary of Owen's death approaches, I have been silently holding meetings with the Lord. He knows my heart. He knows my yearnings and longings to see sweet Owen again. He knows the pangs as I watched others celebrate their birthdays this year around the same time as his... and the Lord knows just how to comfort me.
I don't really talk about Owen much in the home. It is confusing to Corin... he has not really grasped the concept of death yet. However, this week, three days so far, Corin has asked me about Owen. Corin has brought it up of his own accord and I feel as though our sweet sweet Savior is using Corin to tell me it is okay. It is okay to share Owen with others. It is okay to show others I am sad sometimes and to let people into my world of hurt and joy. It is okay, Lindsey. I struggle, a LOT, with knowing when I should share the story and when I should just keep my mouth shut to save them and myself from an awkward situation. But then I wonder... Am I short changing God? If He is to use the testimony of Owen's life and death for His glory, is hiding the fact that O ever existed helping in that? Am I hiding his story for fear of others' reactions? It is hard to know how one will react to me sharing that chapter of our life with them. It is hard to know if strangers should be let in on that vulnerable heartstring in our journey or just close friends?. When is the most appropriate time to bring it up? Wait for it to casually enter conversation? But it is not a casual conversation piece. IT is hard knowing. It is hard being emotionally tugged like that when someone asks us about our family.
Yes, I am intentionally being vague in this post. It is still hard. The strings are tight. The anniversary is near.
Feedback? Thoughts? I'd love to hear them. In a comment or an e-mail... not picky. Maybe a comment as I am sure there are others out there who struggle with the same thoughts. Maybe not over the same trial, but loss tends to come with these apprehensions whether over family, friends, displacement... etc.
LL
I don't really talk about Owen much in the home. It is confusing to Corin... he has not really grasped the concept of death yet. However, this week, three days so far, Corin has asked me about Owen. Corin has brought it up of his own accord and I feel as though our sweet sweet Savior is using Corin to tell me it is okay. It is okay to share Owen with others. It is okay to show others I am sad sometimes and to let people into my world of hurt and joy. It is okay, Lindsey. I struggle, a LOT, with knowing when I should share the story and when I should just keep my mouth shut to save them and myself from an awkward situation. But then I wonder... Am I short changing God? If He is to use the testimony of Owen's life and death for His glory, is hiding the fact that O ever existed helping in that? Am I hiding his story for fear of others' reactions? It is hard to know how one will react to me sharing that chapter of our life with them. It is hard to know if strangers should be let in on that vulnerable heartstring in our journey or just close friends?. When is the most appropriate time to bring it up? Wait for it to casually enter conversation? But it is not a casual conversation piece. IT is hard knowing. It is hard being emotionally tugged like that when someone asks us about our family.
Yes, I am intentionally being vague in this post. It is still hard. The strings are tight. The anniversary is near.
Feedback? Thoughts? I'd love to hear them. In a comment or an e-mail... not picky. Maybe a comment as I am sure there are others out there who struggle with the same thoughts. Maybe not over the same trial, but loss tends to come with these apprehensions whether over family, friends, displacement... etc.
LL
Saturday, June 2, 2012
Still the same, but different.
My father-in-law is THE human calendar. You say a date, and he pretty much has a story from one of the many years past.
I am this way to a fault. There are dates that stick out in my memory. Holidays, anniversaries, various special moments, and birthdays. I am probably best with birthdays. That is why today, June 2, was a hard day. It was a birthday that I remember fondly. A birthday that I tried oh so hard to not think about... but when you think about not thinking about something too hard, you can ONLY think about that one something that you are trying not to think about.
Today is Owen's birthday. He would have turned three. I would have made him his favorite flavored cake and his favorite meal and COrin and I would have made him a birthday poster last night. We would have skipped the ministry group meeting and gathered with family to celebrate.
Instead, we all avoid the topic. We avoid the awkward conversation of what ifs and shoulda-coulda-wouldas. It is easier that way. On our hearts, on our eyes.
Yesterday, my thoughts went something like this:
"I think about the woman I was three years ago and pity her. I pity her not only because she had no clue that her worst nightmare would become her worst memory, but also because she was so naive. So young in her faith, that she could not have known how immensely God would be using this little baby she now held to impact and shape her for eternal purposes. Three years seems like such a short time in retrospect, but I hardly recognized myself the other day in comparing the woman in the mirror with the woman in the picture holding little baby Owen. Now I do not say this to brag on my own part, because I really had NOTHING to do with the change that has occurred. I am still the selfish sinner I was before, but with greater understanding. Greater thirst, to know the One who has changed me daily through the trials fit for me."
And my thoughts today.......
... here I am, different, yet still the same. Still the same, yet different. I learned the hard way that things of this world are temporary. That life is a gift. I held my little boys so tightly. I loved my family whole heartedly. A piece of my heart died with Owen. I feel so strange. I feel like I have a hard time letting my guard down now and loving without restraint, even when it comes to my family. I build walls, I build barriers. SO have I really grown? Have I really changed? I have, but I also allowed Satan to work in my weakness and in my blindspots. The places I was not prayerful about, yep, Satan took full advantage. He snuck in and settled. I had no clue. I was naive. So three years later, I am still a naive believer... different, but still the same. Still the same, but different.
LL
I am this way to a fault. There are dates that stick out in my memory. Holidays, anniversaries, various special moments, and birthdays. I am probably best with birthdays. That is why today, June 2, was a hard day. It was a birthday that I remember fondly. A birthday that I tried oh so hard to not think about... but when you think about not thinking about something too hard, you can ONLY think about that one something that you are trying not to think about.
Today is Owen's birthday. He would have turned three. I would have made him his favorite flavored cake and his favorite meal and COrin and I would have made him a birthday poster last night. We would have skipped the ministry group meeting and gathered with family to celebrate.
Instead, we all avoid the topic. We avoid the awkward conversation of what ifs and shoulda-coulda-wouldas. It is easier that way. On our hearts, on our eyes.
Yesterday, my thoughts went something like this:
"I think about the woman I was three years ago and pity her. I pity her not only because she had no clue that her worst nightmare would become her worst memory, but also because she was so naive. So young in her faith, that she could not have known how immensely God would be using this little baby she now held to impact and shape her for eternal purposes. Three years seems like such a short time in retrospect, but I hardly recognized myself the other day in comparing the woman in the mirror with the woman in the picture holding little baby Owen. Now I do not say this to brag on my own part, because I really had NOTHING to do with the change that has occurred. I am still the selfish sinner I was before, but with greater understanding. Greater thirst, to know the One who has changed me daily through the trials fit for me."
And my thoughts today.......
... here I am, different, yet still the same. Still the same, yet different. I learned the hard way that things of this world are temporary. That life is a gift. I held my little boys so tightly. I loved my family whole heartedly. A piece of my heart died with Owen. I feel so strange. I feel like I have a hard time letting my guard down now and loving without restraint, even when it comes to my family. I build walls, I build barriers. SO have I really grown? Have I really changed? I have, but I also allowed Satan to work in my weakness and in my blindspots. The places I was not prayerful about, yep, Satan took full advantage. He snuck in and settled. I had no clue. I was naive. So three years later, I am still a naive believer... different, but still the same. Still the same, but different.
LL
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
Derailed.
Confession: My time in the Scriptures... not so much lately.
I have been making, and using, every excuse in the book as of late. " Well, we have just been so busy with getting settled." "I have so much stuff going on and all I want to do is crash when I get a few minutes to myself." "I am praying a lot... that counts, right?!"
While it is true that my prayer life has been constant, dare I say more fervent, over the past couple of months, my reading has taken a total nose dive. I have been reading a lot more books with Corin (I know, another excuse.), and have not been setting aside time to read to myself. And when I do... it is not the edifying Word of Life I need so much, but have been resisting quite adamantly.
Why? Why do I shut the Lord out and refuse to hear His voice? Why would I speak with Him in Prayer and yet not listen for a response? While I know it will not come as a shocker to some, I do this in my worldly life too. I talk, talk, talk... then when it is my turn to listen, I tune out. When it is time to hear how I can improve, I tune out. When it is time to hear how I can help His Kingdom, I tune out. WHY?! ARg. I drive myself nuts with my boastful, prideful, stubborn self. I allow Satan to whisper sweet nothings in my ear and tell me that I am a good little girl for talking to God, but when it is time to listen to my amazing Savior's response I am too busy puffing up my chest with pride as I listen to Satan's lies about how great I am all on my own. I neglect to hear the TRUTH.
I am nothing. I am dust. I can do NOTHING without my Lord and Savior JESUS!!!! Hello. Wake up and smell the coffee, Lindsey, because it is time to set aside time with the Lord... and not just in prayer, but in quiet meditation on His word. Quiet... hmm. In my house, that means before the kids wake up, or after the kids go to bed. I know this is asking a lot of you, but please hold me accountable. Ask me how my reading is going. It takes two seconds, but it works wonders. Conviction is a powerful motivator. Hopefully one day I can say that I ADORE reading the Scriptures every chance I can get... sadly, I am ashamed to say, this sinner is not there just yet.
LL
I have been making, and using, every excuse in the book as of late. " Well, we have just been so busy with getting settled." "I have so much stuff going on and all I want to do is crash when I get a few minutes to myself." "I am praying a lot... that counts, right?!"
While it is true that my prayer life has been constant, dare I say more fervent, over the past couple of months, my reading has taken a total nose dive. I have been reading a lot more books with Corin (I know, another excuse.), and have not been setting aside time to read to myself. And when I do... it is not the edifying Word of Life I need so much, but have been resisting quite adamantly.
Why? Why do I shut the Lord out and refuse to hear His voice? Why would I speak with Him in Prayer and yet not listen for a response? While I know it will not come as a shocker to some, I do this in my worldly life too. I talk, talk, talk... then when it is my turn to listen, I tune out. When it is time to hear how I can improve, I tune out. When it is time to hear how I can help His Kingdom, I tune out. WHY?! ARg. I drive myself nuts with my boastful, prideful, stubborn self. I allow Satan to whisper sweet nothings in my ear and tell me that I am a good little girl for talking to God, but when it is time to listen to my amazing Savior's response I am too busy puffing up my chest with pride as I listen to Satan's lies about how great I am all on my own. I neglect to hear the TRUTH.
I am nothing. I am dust. I can do NOTHING without my Lord and Savior JESUS!!!! Hello. Wake up and smell the coffee, Lindsey, because it is time to set aside time with the Lord... and not just in prayer, but in quiet meditation on His word. Quiet... hmm. In my house, that means before the kids wake up, or after the kids go to bed. I know this is asking a lot of you, but please hold me accountable. Ask me how my reading is going. It takes two seconds, but it works wonders. Conviction is a powerful motivator. Hopefully one day I can say that I ADORE reading the Scriptures every chance I can get... sadly, I am ashamed to say, this sinner is not there just yet.
LL
Sunday, May 13, 2012
A Mother's Joy
I started a poem the other day as I reflected on what it is like being a mom. Words can never truly express the feeling, but I ventured to write out some thoughts. While this is not yet finished... I want to dedicate it to my mom. A mom who has loved me, supported me, and encouraged me throughout my life. A mom I could and never would replace. I love you mom!
Long awaiting, anxious thoughts,
Fears, joys, what ifs and what nots.
Laborious efforts, body worn,
FInally holding that tiny form.
Melting heart with every glance,
Lovingly embracing at every chance.
Prayers go up, joy flows in.
Ready for the journey to begin.
Soaking it up as baby grows,
grabby fingers, ticklish toes.
Soon they're sitting, now they crawl.
Walk, now talk, getting into it all.
Fits and fussing, bruises, bumps.
Never ending days of grumps.
Smiles, kisses, hugs and laughter,
Your sweet little shadow following after.
A mother's joy, full to the brim,
Triggered by a simple grin,
Or look, or hug, or singing aloud...
In their triumphs, you feel proud.
A mother's joy, never fully grasped,
'Til in your own arms you've clasped,
A blessing, a gift that God created,
Unique for you, never duplicated.
A love that God grows to draw us near,
Near Himself in love, awe, and fear.
A love that before, never fully known,
But once a parent, this privilege shown.
The privilege of knowing Christ's love for us all,
A love that that Lifted us up from the Fall.
God loved his children,yes me and yes you,
So much that He sent Jesus, to be pierced through.
For our sakes, our lives, our sin He was sent.
The perfect, the ONLY pure atonement.
God the Father, sent His Son,
Not His third or fourth but His only One.
I can only image the pain in His heart,
As the life of Jesus began to depart.
Through the suffering, the scoffing, the hardships the trial...
God was there watching and loving all the while.
I never knew how much a parent loves their child until I became a mom. I never knew how HARD it must have been for God to watch his Child suffer, until I tended to a hurt child of my own... and I never knew how excruciating it must have been for God to watch his Son die until I lost my own child. I am so thankful to know God's character more, through the three little blessings he has given Taylor and I. And I am so thankful for my parents in having loved me and patiently waited for my brother and I to mature into adults. Thanks mom and dad! :)
LL
Long awaiting, anxious thoughts,
Fears, joys, what ifs and what nots.
Laborious efforts, body worn,
FInally holding that tiny form.
Melting heart with every glance,
Lovingly embracing at every chance.
Prayers go up, joy flows in.
Ready for the journey to begin.
Soaking it up as baby grows,
grabby fingers, ticklish toes.
Soon they're sitting, now they crawl.
Walk, now talk, getting into it all.
Fits and fussing, bruises, bumps.
Never ending days of grumps.
Smiles, kisses, hugs and laughter,
Your sweet little shadow following after.
A mother's joy, full to the brim,
Triggered by a simple grin,
Or look, or hug, or singing aloud...
In their triumphs, you feel proud.
A mother's joy, never fully grasped,
'Til in your own arms you've clasped,
A blessing, a gift that God created,
Unique for you, never duplicated.
A love that God grows to draw us near,
Near Himself in love, awe, and fear.
A love that before, never fully known,
But once a parent, this privilege shown.
The privilege of knowing Christ's love for us all,
A love that that Lifted us up from the Fall.
God loved his children,yes me and yes you,
So much that He sent Jesus, to be pierced through.
For our sakes, our lives, our sin He was sent.
The perfect, the ONLY pure atonement.
God the Father, sent His Son,
Not His third or fourth but His only One.
I can only image the pain in His heart,
As the life of Jesus began to depart.
Through the suffering, the scoffing, the hardships the trial...
God was there watching and loving all the while.
I never knew how much a parent loves their child until I became a mom. I never knew how HARD it must have been for God to watch his Child suffer, until I tended to a hurt child of my own... and I never knew how excruciating it must have been for God to watch his Son die until I lost my own child. I am so thankful to know God's character more, through the three little blessings he has given Taylor and I. And I am so thankful for my parents in having loved me and patiently waited for my brother and I to mature into adults. Thanks mom and dad! :)
LL
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