Compass

Well, I made it. My last child, #5, is graduating from high school.  This is her last week.  My last week of being a mom with a child in primary school.  So many things go through my mind as this chapter in my life comes to a close.  Having five kids you don't really realize the last momentous milestones.  Probably because someone else is coming up behind to keep you in the game.  Knowing my daughter would be the last baby I would carry inside me, I savored every moment of it.  I felt the completion of a journey through every step of her growing up, knowing it was the last first steps, first words, first day of school and first performance.  A long list of firsts that would be the last.  Sitting at her final performance the other night made me realize that I was sitting in this theater for the last time. Nine continuous years spent with this high school theater group.   My dad, sitting beside me, leaned over and said, "Well, what are we going to do with our Saturday nights now?"  I understood in that very moment that a chapter, a big chapter, of my life was ending.  It's the bitter sweet that really catches in my throat.  I am so excited for the next chapter, but at the same time grieving the end of a beautiful adventure.  

As I listen to the graduating seniors talk about changing the world and making a big difference with their lives, I smile.  I remember the exuberant feeling of graduating high school knowing I could be anything, do anything, conquer anything.  And I too, wanted to make a big difference.  What I want to say to these young kids is, you will.  But it may not be in the same way that you think now.  I want to tell them that changing the world starts in your little corner of it.  Every action or inaction, every good choice or bad decision will impact someone.  

Turns out changing the world for me meant being the best mom I could be and impacting those five lives.  Doesn't sound too heroic, but if those five children effect just five other lives each, and those five touch five more lives, and so on and so on, then I have made a difference.

I want to tell them that changing the world sometimes means just planting a seed.  A smile, a kind word to a stranger, or an act of kindness.  Sometimes what seems so insignificant to you, may be everything to someone else, and most of the time you will never know it made any difference at all.  Be okay with that.  Sometimes changing the world will mean sacrifice.  Sometimes it will mean passing the baton without getting any of the credit.

I want to tell them its not about being famous or rich or who has the most toys.  Success is when you are being true to how God created you, when you are using your God given talents.  If you love to sing, sing!  It doesn't matter if it's on a Broadway stage or your singing to your three year old daughter.  You are a blessing.  You are changing the world, one soul at a time.  If you are a math wiz and you end up teaching middle school algebra instead of programming a space shuttle, you are still a success.  You are changing many many lives.  Do what you love.  Be true to yourself.  Be true to who God has called you to be, and you will be a success.  As my daughter says, "don't let anybody steal your sparkle."  

Probably the most important thing I want to say to these fresh faced, change the world, young adventurers, is this....  I know a secret.  It is something that will always keep you striving to be the best you that you can be.  It's something that you can wrap your heart around and find comfort in when storms and doubt enter your life.  It's something that removes fear and replaces it with hope and joy.  It's a promise.  It is something God said.  " I know the plans I have for you, plans to prosper you and not harm you, plans to give you a hope and a future."  Jeremiah 29:11  

Wherever your path takes you on your new journey, whatever circumstances you find yourself in,  keep your compass pointing toward God, and you will be a success.  You will be a success because you will be exactly who God has created and called you to be. You can't help but change the world.

Mom

Driving in the car the other day my four year old grandson asked me, "Does everyone have a dad"?  I wasn't really sure what the real question was and I tried to answer it as simply as I could.  It got me thinking though.  I'm not sure what prompted him to ask me that, but I thought it was interesting that he didn't ask me if everybody has a mom.  Maybe I thought about that because today is Mothers Day.  I cant imagine my life without my Mom.  

Sometimes I know how lucky I am to have my mom.  Times when she was my soft place to land.  The fact that even if I fell short, my mom still loved me.  The endless meals she prepared, the countless recitals and sports games she sat through, and the patience she had to teach me how to be a young lady.  The tough love she had to set boundaries, and the courage she had when I would say, "you are so mean!"  As I watched my mom love and nurture my own children and now her great grandchildren, I feel so blessed.

I know that not everyone is so lucky.  Some people didn't have a mom that was all those things.  I wish they did.  But I happen to know that most of them have gone on to be that kind of mom to their children, and later their grandchildren.  Their mom was still exactly who God picked to be there mom.  Not so they would have lack, but so they would become who God wanted them to be.

I guess my point is that even my grandson can't imagine a world without a mom.  We may not get the crown, or a great applause, but that's not why we do it.  We do it because it is what we are called to do.  It was exactly how God created us and we have this great opportunity to nurture and grow another human being.  Some of us hear the call.  Some of us want to be a mom that the world cant imagine without us.  My heart is with you.  To all the moms out there I want to say, Thank you.  You make a difference even if you think you got everything wrong.  You didn't.  

Happy Mothers Day!

Held

I have known a few warriors in my lifetime.  People of great strength, courage, endurance and perseverance.  They have been prayer warriors, parent warriors, care-taking warriors, just to name a few.  

The other day at the park I realized that my 2 year old granddaughter, Violet, is a warrior as well.  Decked out in her frilly, lacy princess dress, we made our trek through the desert to the park.  She scaled every hill, and ran down every slope, dodging the rocks, boulders and snake holes.  By the time we made it to the grassy field of the park, she ran up to my side and pulled on my shirt.  "carry me" she said, in a soft voice.  She was just getting over being sick and she had lost her steam.  I picked her up and she laid her head on my shoulder and wrapped her tiny arms and legs around me.  She wanted the comfort of being held.

Her vision of the swings revitalized her energy and she scampered off chanting, "push me Grandma, push me".  These were the little kids swings.  Nice little safe seats to sit in.  But big brother called from across the way, saying to join her on the BIG kids swings.  She wanted to be just like him.  She is very brave and so she ran off to join big brother.  I pushed her going higher and higher at her pleas.  I glanced away for just a split second and her butt slid off the seat and she was lying sprawled out on the ground.  She cried.... hard, heart breaking tears.  "Hold me Grandma".  And so I did.  I picked her up and comforted her.  "Let's try the slide instead", I suggested, and placed her on the ground.  She wiped her tears, took one look at the swing and said, "No, I'm doing the swings again."  She was a warrior.  She had been beat.  Her fear had come true, but she was climbing back on to face that fear again.

I have a dear childhood friend, who spends her days beside her son who had a brain tumor removed.  She fights for him every day, encouraging him to relearn all the things he once knew.  She prays over him and with him.  She is strong.  When faced with the heartbreak and fear, she rallies.  Her life was interrupted with tragedy.  When she should be going to her son's baseball games, she is teaching him the word "ball".  She is a warrior.

Another sweet friend has not held her son in her arms for 20 years.  She lives five thousand miles away.  He is serving a life sentence in prison, a victim of wrongful conviction.  She longs to have the simple things with him.  A walk down a beach, a drive along the countryside, a simple dinner at the kitchen table.  She is getting older, and the court system moves at a snails pace.  On her knees she prays for his freedom, she prays she will see him, she prays God's grace and protection.  She is a warrior.  

A real warrior never really feels like a warrior.  There are times when they feel weak.  Moments when they feel the fear rise up in them.  Days where they simply want to be held.  In these moments of brokenness they wonder why they are weak.  They wonder why their faith is not stronger.  But this is exactly how God created us.  That we would get to the bottom of our own strength and long to be in arms of our Father.  God makes us needy that we might find him generous.  He allows us to feel too weak to handle the situations we are faced with, so that we might find joy in his attributes, and those provisions are most clearly seen through the lens of necessity.

When life knocks us down, we find comfort in the hand that reaches down to help us up.  There is comfort in the hug that comes after a hard day.  Comfort in an embrace when we are filled with grief.  Comfort in having someone to hold our hand when the doctor gives us the bad news.  My granddaughter, a child of two years old, knows this. She is not shy about asking to be held.  She needs this, and she embraces her neediness.   She knows Grandma's arms are open for her.  Arms to comfort her, soothe her and strengthen her.  And when she is older, and Grandma cant fix it,  I hope she too runs to the arms of her heavenly Father.  Our God holds all things together, the stars in the sky, the clouds and all the things of the earth.  If He can hold these things, He can hold you.  Colossians 1:17 "He is before all things, and in him all things hold together." 

Hope

My son Quinn started off on an adventure.  He was going to Costa Rica for a semester of school.  He was excited, and yet (although he never voiced it) I am sure he was a little nervous.  He was leaving the country to be immersed in a new language, staying with unfamiliar people, in an unfamiliar land.  But he was a champion, keeping a tight reign on any anxiety and overcoming any obstacles that came his way, like finding the money to go, releasing his apartment, and packing all his belongings to bring back home.

We drove him to Las Vegas to catch his flight, as it was much cheaper to fly from there.  We dropped him at the airport at o' dark hundred, said our goodbyes and headed our car homeward bound for Phoenix.  Mama bird was excited for him.  He had left the nest, but he was securely on his way, tucked into the airport.  And that's when the call came.  They wouldn't let him board his flight.  They said his stay was over the legal 90 day in country stay without a visa.  He had no visa.  We were already over the Hoover Damn by the time the problems started.  Quinn showed him the bus tickets he had purchased to prove onward travel plans to leave the country for the mandated 72 hours.  They still would not let him board.  After many phone calls, the only way Quinn was getting on a plane to Costa Rica was to purchase a new ticket for the next flight.  The next flight was in 12 hours.  The next flight would have to have a return date within the 90 day time period, three weeks before his semester ended.  The next flight would cost $1000, and the next flight would arrive 15 minutes before his first class started.  Mama bird wanted to peck someones eyes out!  

I told him to buy the ticket, get on the plane and we would work all the rest out in time.  Have hope, have faith I told him, but it would be another 100 miles before I stopped brooding and fuming.  Here is what changed me.  Psalm 43:5  Why are you downcast, O my soul?  I knew in my heart that there were good reasons to be downcast.  But only two.  And mine was neither of these two.  I have God.  Therefore, I have hope.  If I was not a believer in God, I would have reason to be downcast.  If I continued to live in sin and not repent to God, I would be downcast.  But everything else that causes me to feel hopeless, I can take to God.  God is on the thrown.  God is in control, and nothing happens without God allowing it.

And so I took my petition to God.  I trusted him.  I hoped in him.  In the past whatever my need, however difficult my circumstances may seem, I laid my hope upon God.  And this was no different.  

Quinn bought his ticket.  He made it to Costa Rica.  He started his class.  We wrote an email to the airlines explaining the situation and asking them to reimburse us the money and allow him to change his return flight for free, that would allow him to complete his semester.  A week later I got a response that included an apology, reimbursement, and free flight change. I emailed them back telling them how much it meant to me that they cared about my circumstance.  I received yet another email from them saying that no one ever takes the time to tell them thank  you.  Yes, the company had integrity, but ultimately God gets the glory.  Even if the outcome had not been perfect, even if the outcome had not come so fast, I would still lay my hope in God.  

When God allows circumstances in my life that throw me for a curve, perhaps he is teaching me to put my hope in him.  When my situation seems impossible, I can put my hope in him.  God is simply asking me to exercise my faith in the power of Him.  I have found this to be true many hundreds of times, and yet I continually have to remind myself, "Put your hope in God" Pslams 43:5

No matter the outcome I have the promise of God "that all things work together for good, to those who love God, to those who are called according to his purpose". Romans 8:28  When we are on the right path, following God's purpose for our lives, things will all come together.  Quinn is doing what he was called to do.  He will face obstacles, but God will open doors and create smooth passage.  My hope is in God.

Evidence

It is hard to hide the fact that the grand-kids have been to my house for a visit.  The days that follow their visit, I see their presence everywhere.  When my daughter comes home and sits on the couch, she pulls out a princess teapot and says, "So the babies were here today I see."  Their little fingerprints are on the sliding door and windows.  I find their plastic pretend food stashed in the darnedest places, and a week later I am still picking up tiny rocks that were their treasures.  These things are all evidence that two small bodies were at our house.  Evidence that I am a grandma.  Evidence that my house just may be, for these two little ones, "the happiest place on earth".  

I feel this way too when I stand in the most beautiful place on earth.  There are no tickets to buy, lines to stand in, or a gift shop to wander through.  But it takes my breath away when I stand in the Redwood Forest.  I see evidence of the majesty of God.

There are a thousand different shades of green.  My artist pallet could never capture the intensity and hue of the color.  Everywhere I turn I see a different species of plant and creature.  The sun filters through the thick canopy of trees in golden rays here and there.  It is awe inspiring.  I want to reach my hand out and capture the ray as if it's magical beam could heal my very soul.  Everywhere I look, I see the fingerprints of God.  Evidence that God is the Master artist.  

Redwood trees grow to be over 300 feet tall, and they are 8 feet to 20 feet in diameter!.  Their root system is only 6"-12" deep, but they are able to withstand heavy winds and powerful foods because they extend their roots to more than 50 feet from their trunk and they live in groves where they can intertwine their roots.  The seed of a redwood tree is only about the size of a tomato seed.  As I hold the  tiniest cone in my hand, I marvel that a tree so massive comes from a one inch cone. This is Evidence that God is the Master creator.  

The Eco system in the Redwood Forest surpassing anything I could imagine.  A spider web catches my eye glistening with dew still clinging to it.  A spiderweb that if I found in my house would cause a case of the guilts and a spring cleaning spree.  But here it is beautiful.  It is pristine.  It is perfect in symmetry and I find myself wondering how the spider can create such perfect lines and spaces.  The earth is boggy and ferns of every shape and size blanket the entire floor of the forest.  Evidence that God created all things to work together for His Glory. 

There is such peace in the air.  If I close my eyes, I can hear the most beautiful sound.  Nothing. No cars, no buzzing of machines, not a single voice.  But it's the stillness that takes my breath away.  I have never known such utter peace.  It washes through my body and fills all my senses.  It opens my heart and embraces my soul.  I have been kissed by God.  Be still and know, that  I am God. Psalm 46:10  I finally understand what God meant by that.  I felt it, in that moment, as I stood paralyzed in wonder.  Evidence that God has a great love for me, and desires the best for me.

It is hard for me to imagine that the existence of God often eludes people.  The Webster dictionary defines "evidence" as: the available body of facts or information indicating whether a belief or proposition is true or valid.  Evidence can be a funny thing.  I have never "seen" the wind, but I see evidence of it blowing through the treetops.  I have never "seen" love, but I see evidence of it in a mother's embrace.  I have never "seen" God, but I see evidence of him everywhere.

I am not a philosopher.  Heck, I can't even do math......or spell.  But I have seen the hand of God.  I have felt the warmth of His breath upon the back of my  neck......  I have stood in the Redwood Forest.  

Shadows

On a recent walk with my 2 year old granddaughter, we found ourselves at the park.  The sun was shining brighly and we took the long winding sidewalk that circled the park.  We were not walking for long when two steps ahead of me, she kept turning around and looking at the ground.  Her pace got faster and faster.  I was struggling to keep up with her.  She was frantic, almost tripping as she turned around looking over her shoulder and righted herself.

Finally she called out to me, "Grandma!  That dark spot is following me!"  It took me a second to realize that the "dark spot" she was referring to, was her shadow.  I was laughing inside, but I was careful not to let her see it.  She was serious.  She was scared.  She was very afraid.

She ran to my side as I opened my arms to her.  I explained to her that it was only her shadow that she was seeing.  She stood with her hand in mine and I told her to wave.  The shadow waved back.  Then we jumped up and down.  The shadow did the same.  After a few more arm waving and leg kicking, she giggled.

I thought it was funny.  Cute.  I thought about that moment every time I saw my shadow the next week.  But then today it struck me differently.  What had scared her was not some creature from her nightmares, but actually just her simple shadow cast across the sidewalk.  How many times have I done that in my own life?  How many times have I seen something that scared me and shook me to my core, when in truth, the problem that I perceived had not been a threat at all, but a case of mistaken perception.  

Sometimes the gloominess of our current or past situations cast a dark shadow on how we see ourselves. We start to wonder if that negative comment someone said about us is true.   We worry that our past mistakes will bleed into our future.  We lay awake at night and fret over being misunderstood and wonder if anyone will ever really know us.  And so doubt seeps in and starts to leave a stain on our soul.   We get so focused on our hurt and what we see, that we don't see what God sees.  We forget what God's word really says about us.  That we are loved, forgiven, known and provided for.  

When I am walking with Jesus, I can run to him and he will open up his arms to me.  He will say, "My dear child, those things that you are fearful of are only stains that you have misread as threats.   I have removed them with my blood."

God was trying to tell me that sometimes in my brokenness I forget my true identity.  When I take my eyes off of God's promises, fear gets it's ugly grip on me.  And that's when I need someone to remind me of the verse, "So do not fear, for I am with you.  Do not be dismayed for I am your God.  I will strengthen you and help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand."  Isaiah 41:10  

Our fears can seem silly to others,  just like my grand daughters fear of her shadow was to me.  But they can haunt us, chase us, and steal peace from us.  My two year old grandchild made me see something beautiful in the shadows.  We all have the gift of dispelling someones fears.  We can scoop them up in our arms and comfort them.  We can shine a light on the shadows and take their power away.  And in the end we can point them right to Jesus.  The bible uses the words"fear not" 80 plus times.  Other word pairings that would be equal to fear not (do not be afraid, do not fear, be not afraid) is used 30 plus times.  I don't think I need to hear God say something 100 plus times to get the message. And my two year old grand daughter?  She doesn't even notice her shadow anymore.

Holes

My grandson loves to dig in the backyard.  In fact he can sniff out a shovel in no time flat.  He then begins his quest.  Every time after he has been to my house, I have to go around and fill all the holes.  Holes in the potted plants, holes in the garden, holes in the yard and in the gravel.  

And now he has the dog on the scene.  I guess he sees how much fun it is and has to try it himself.  There is one hole in the backyard that I keep refilling and the next time I look, it's there!  Half way to China!!  I want to know what happens to all that dirt.  You would think it would be right there next to the big gaping hole, but no.  I have gotten to the point that I  have to shovel dirt from other areas of the yard to fill it.

We humans have holes too.  They are created from hurtful things people have done and said to us in our past.  Over time and repetition this damage starts to seep in and we start to believe it.  We adopt a new belief that erodes our confidence, significance and value.  Some of us don't even know its there, but it becomes a stumbling block in our lives. If we know it is there we will do everything we can to avoid it.  The hole knocks us down, keeps us down and we just don't understand why we cant get rid of it.  

We try tirelessly to fill it.  We try to self medicate with alcohol, drugs or sex.  We look for other people to fill our holes for us.  But in the end we still have this big gaping hole that just cant be filled. We focus on what others think and say about us instead of turning to the truth that comes from God. We care so deeply about being accepted by those around us instead of resting in the acceptance and overwhelming love that God has for us.  The reason why we can not fill that hole is because  we have created a belief that has no foundation.  The foundation is WHAT and WHO God says we are.  Until we can let go of that false belief nothing else we do can fill it.  

Our false belief can look something like this...
"I am unlovable", but God says, "I love you."  (John 3:16)
"I can't do anything right", but God says, "You can do all things". (Philippians 4:13)
"I can't forgive myself", but God says, "I forgive you". (Romans 8:1)
"I am not pretty enough", but God says, "I created you in my image". (Genesis 1:27

When I'm trying to fill someone else's hole, it becomes exhausting.  I just want to hide the darn shovel.  No matter how much love you pour on someone, how desperately you try or tiptoe around their hole, you can never get it filled. So many relationships fail because they expect the other person to fill their hole.  It's an effort in futility because only that person, with God's help, can fill it.

When I am quick to accept  someone else's opinion of me as truth, I am stopping in my tracks and  instead  turning my heart to God and trusting and caring more about what GOD says of me.  

I am teaching my grandson to fill his own holes. The ones in the backyard now,  but maybe one day in his future, he too will see that holes are a part of life.  And he will remember that Grandma said, "Sweetie, you gotta fill those holes." And I am learning from God that I have some of my own holes to fill.  

The Things We Remember

Many times in life, we set out on a journey to make a lasting memory.  Never is it more true than at Christmas time.  We start traditions, we search for the perfect gift, we take many photos.  But I have found through the years, that the most memorable things come from unexpected, simple, childlike moments.  Ironically, usually they go unnoticed in the memory banks of those around me as having touched me so deeply.

Throughout my childhood every summer there were road trips back to Minnesota.  My family would pack up the camper and head across the Midwest, visiting relatives along the way.  One stop we always made was my aunt and uncles house in Omaha, Nebraska.  One summer on our stay there, my cousin let me play with his stuffed monkey.  I was smitten.  I fell in love with him and was inseparable from him.  When it came time to leave, I said my long tearful goodbye.  As we loaded into the camper to continue our journey, my cousin came out of the house carrying that monkey.  With outstretched arms he said, "You can have him."  The joy I felt was immeasurable.  I loved that little monkey, and I named him Chimp.  I know, I know my less than creative names for my animals started young.  (I have a dog named Puppy and a turtle named Turtleman).

That was 40 plus years ago.  And through the years I'm not really sure what ever happened to Chimp.  But from time to time I still think about him and how much he meant to me.  Chimp was an important part of my childhood memories and at times I am moved to share stories about my adventures with him. 

Last month a brown cardboard box arrived.  Expectantly I opened it, and tucked inside was "Chimp".  Tears stung my eyes as I pulled him from the box and held him close.  I was given a gift from my past.  The first time I was given Chimp there must have been something in my eyes that my cousin recognized as love.  The second time Chimp entered my life there must have been something in my heart, in my telling of his stories, that someone very dear to me saw, and searched through eBay to find him.

I couldn't wait for the grand-kids to meet him.  But I was a little worried.  Upon closer inspection of Chimp I realized he was a little bit....... creepy.  As a child I thought he was adorable!  I need not have feared though because upon first sight my granddaughter picked him up and dragged him to the other room.  She promptly took him to the couch, laid him on her lap and gave him the biggest kiss!

I say all this because when I told my parents about my new reunion with Chimp, they only vaguely remembered him.  Same with my sister.  How could this be?  He was my first love!  I'm sure my cousin did not set out to give him to me to make a lifelong, lasting, special memory.  He may not even remember doing it.  But that's the thing.  We never know when something we do or something we say will make a lasting impression in someone else's life.  Sometimes it's the strangest, simplest little things, the everyday things, that touch our heart in unexpected ways.

This Christmas I will honor the traditions that my family has so graciously set out before me.  I will search for the perfect gift, and I will capture the timeless photos.  But I will also remember that it will probably be the thing I don't see, the thing I didn't plan, the thing that has no pomp and circumstance, the simple things, the thing I wont remember, that will take a front row seat in my child's memory bank.

Thriving Against The Odds

One day upon arriving at my parents house, my dad took me outside to show me something extraordinary.  He pointed up to the metal carport canopy.  I had to shield my eyes from the scorching Arizona sun, and then I saw it!  Growing in the metal rafter was a cactus.  How could it grow in such a harsh climate?  No soil, 120 degree heat beating down upon the metal, and no water, rain, or any other hint of moisture.  How in the world did it thrive?  

A few months later when I pulled into their driveway, I saw the most beautiful pink flowers blooming on that cactus.  That cactus was not only growing in an inhospitable environment, it actually seemed to like it, and was thriving!!

I have seen in my own life, and in the life of other believers, the same similarities.  Our environment is not ideal.  We can be dealing with the demands of small children, or teenagers, or the loss of someone we love.  Perhaps illness, a less than ideal job, stress in our relationships, or wounds from our past.  But, there are many of us Christians who seem to bloom when our circumstances become the most harsh and severe.  

Maybe it's because that's when our faith is in action.  Maybe it's because when we get to the bottom of our own strength, we cry out to God, "help."  

When I say some Christians thrive in hard times, I do not mean that we love the heartbreak.  Although the bible does tell us in James 1:2-4 "Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith brings perseverance."  In my own life, in times of difficulty, my heart actually breaks.  It is in the breaking, and the small cracks, that I actually allow the people I love to see my wounds.  Jesus is then able to fill those fissures with his love, his grace, and his strength.  It is because of this breaking and filling with God's spirit, that I am made stronger.  I actually begin to grow.

When I expose my heart to true pain, and embrace the depth of my brokenness, that is when the healing begins.  I begin to thrive in inhospitable circumstances.  In 1Peter 5:10 "And the God of all grace, who called you to his eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast."  This is where we bloom.  This is how against all odds, in unsuspecting circumstances, we can bear fruit in an otherwise barren environment.

That cactus, growing against all odds, reminded me of the power Jesus has in our lives.  There is nothing too big, no circumstances too difficult, that the cross is not big enough and powerful enough to cover.  We simply need to fix our eyes on Jesus the pioneer and protector of faith.

Adjusting Our Perspective

You never know what you might find in Grandma's toy box.  (this is not unlike my purse)  My grandson found some binoculars and said, "hey Grandma, what's this?"  So I told him it was used for seeing things far away and I showed him how to hold it up to his eyes.  After telling him people use it to see birds and airplanes and such, he scampered off to the backyard.

He wasn't out there very long when he crawled through the dog door and announced, "Grandma, these binoculoos are broken."  I held them up to my own eyes, and they seemed just fine to me.  I took him out to the backyard and focused the binoculars on Puppy in the grass.  "Now you try."  And that's when I noticed it.  Every time my grandson looked through the binoculars he was putting the larger end up to his eyes.  That changed EVERYTHING!  

We were both looking at the same thing but what we saw looked completely different!  And that's how it is with perspective.   Two people can go through the same experience and see things very differently.  The reason is, is that everyone is different.  We have a different way of viewing things.  We have a different way of regarding situations and judging their relative importance, or our outlook or attitude is different.

There are some things that cloud our perspective.  Some of us are looking through the lens of discouragement.  Some of us are being disobedient to God's word.  Sometimes bitterness clouds our judgement, or anger or hurt.  Our perspective is very much a reflection of who we are and what we are feeling in our heart.  

Man's natural way of viewing things is never the same as God's.  Isiah 55:6-9  Satan tries to turn our binoculars around and mess with our perspective.  He did it to Adam and Eve in the garden, when he hold them that God didn't want them to know everything that he did.  And Satan is still at work in our lives today.  When we hear a voice, "You are not enough." or "You will never get past that addiction" or "You will never heal from that relationship."  Satan is trying to change our perspective away from what God's promises are.

I struggled for a long time trying to figure out how others couldn't see things like I did.  And then I realized, from my four year old grandson, that all of our perspectives are flawed.  It is God's perspective that is the one we should believe.  The one we should listen to.  

Maybe God is up there saying, "Hey turn those binoculars around."  "If you could just see what I see, your heart would be free, your mind would be clear and everything would come into focus."  And just like my Grandson, when he used the binoculars the right way, he exclaimed, "Oh grandma!  everything looks so amazing!!!!

Trusting God In The Deep End

My grand-kids love to go to the pool.  Whenever they come to stay for the weekend, you can bet they are going to chant, "Let's go to the pool", right out of the gate!  Last weekend was no exception.  The Y is a great place to take the little ones, as it has a "beach" entry where they can walk in as far as they feel comfortable.  For my 4 year old grandson, that's not very far. Although he loves the water, he is afraid.  No matter how we persuade him, and promise him we will not let him drown, he is fearful.  He likes it in his comfort zone, on his terms.

But every time we go, he becomes a little braver.  Since I didn't let him drown the last time, he must rationalize, perhaps I wont let him this time.  Slowly we are building trust.  Last weekend he put his face in the water to reach down and grab a toy.  On purpose!  When he came up, he was all smiles.  He knew Grandma was watching out for him.  A little courage, a little faith, brings great rewards.

 Something in this experience God used to nudge me a little and get my attention.  I understand his fear.  Many times in my own life I have been faced with the scariness of plunging my face into unknown waters.  I want to stay in the shallow end.  I want to stay in my comfort zone where it is familiar.  But, God loves me too much to leave me there.  He knows I am missing some of the best things.  Just like my grandson learning to swim.  Staying in the shallow end is not near as much fun as jumping off the diving board, doing somersaults underwater, and feeling the weightlessness of your body floating through the water.  If I can understand that I want my grandson to experience that joy, can I grasp that God too, has more grand experiences for me to enjoy?

Jesus tells me to trust him.  He is right there beside me, and he wont let me drown when I go face first into new uncharted waters.  And interestingly when I exercise my faith and trust him in one area, it becomes easier to trust him in more.  He is ever faithful.

It seems crazy to me, that my Grandson would not trust the safety of Grandma's arms.  That I would not keep him safe.  I do so many things to protect my grandson.  I love him dearly.  He holds my heart.  I would give my life for him.  And isn't that exactly what Jesus did for us?  He sacrificed his life to save ours.  Willingly.  And now he walks beside me, he never leaves me. When I am faithful and obedient I can be confident that Jesus will protect me.

When I stay in the shallow end, my comfort zone, I don't grow.  Nothing in my life changes.  My relationship with God doesn't enlarge.  I don't exercise my faith muscles, and I am sinking without even realizing it.  God has so much more for me.  

When I am tempted to hang out in the shallow end, I will remember my grandson at the pool.  I will remember that I will always protect him.  I will remember the thrill he experienced at trusting he would be safe and looked out for in the deep end. I will remember the courage that little boy had.  And then I will plunge my face into the unfamiliar waters in my own life, trusting that God will protect me in the deep end.

Are Our Things More Important Than Our People?

I am a product girl.  I love things......alot.  I love throw pillows, vintage junk and every beautiful color palate of eye makeup.  (well, not blue or green, that just feels wrong.)  I have magazines stuffed with projects and cookbooks I promise to use someday.  I collect coffee mugs from all my travels and they are too numerous now to fit in my cupboard.

I love my home and all the quirky mismatch of heirloom handy downs and junk store finds.  When I walk through the door it feels right somehow, like it's me.  It's a collection of all I love. But as the kids have grown, one married with children, one working her career, one sharing an apartment with friends, one off to college, and one doing her teenage high-school, work, and jujitsu thing, my home has changed.  The hustle and bustle of a house alive and noisy, with projects, messes and suckers stuck to the coffee table are reserved for those precious days when the grand-kids spend the day.

When all the kids return home for celebrations and get togethers, its a loud noisy commotion that anyone on the outside would have cause to run for the hills!  But I love it.  I soak it all in and can't wipe the smile from my face.  These are my people.  This is home to me.

When my children were little I wouldn't let them throw a ball in the house,  because obviously they would break everything!  I remember this one day, I went to pick my kids up from my moms, and there she was playing catch with them right in the middle of the living room.  I couldn't believe my eyes!  And I told my kids, "This is not the mother I grew up with.  She had rules!  She was NOT this fun! "  But my mom knew something that I too, would eventually embrace.  People are more important than our things.

I share a car with three of my children.  It doesn't bother me to do so.  At times it bothers them and their sibling rivalry rears it's head, and at times it even bothers others.  On a good day there are empty Starbucks cups, water bottles and backpacks inhabiting the cup holders, floor and backseat.  On a bad day, half eaten sandwiches, lipstick melted in the cup holder, and OMG what is that horrible smell, gym clothes.

Now I am not a Pollyanna.  I am not a saint, and I am not a pushover.  I just love my people more than I love my things.  Life is full of tragedies my friends, but a few things left behind in my car isn't one of them.  

Everything I have, I freely share with my children.  A few years ago one of my boys asked to borrow my waffle irons for a youth group sleep over breakfast.  "Of course!"  The afore mentioned waffle irons never returned to said pantry.  Actually I didn't even notice for quite a while.  After church on Sundays I would always ask, "waffles or pancakes?"  And then I noticed...   And every Sunday after that I asked, "waffles or pancakes, OH wait....  waffles is off the table, "  and we would all laugh.  It became a running joke in our house for a few years. (Actually every Sunday.)  Then on my birthday, several years later, my son presented his gift to me with a twinkle in his eye.  You guessed it.  A waffle iron!  I laughed so hard I almost peed my pants.  Do I care about  my waffle iron?  No, even though I love waffles, I love my beautiful incredible son immeasurable more!!!

I love my home.  I love the pictures of my family that grace my walls.  I love the scrapbooks that delicately embrace all the moments of my children's lives.  I love  my favorite old ratty cowboy hat that makes me feel safe and comfortable in my own skin on a bad day.  But I love the people who inhabit my heart, that have permanently imprinted their love, their tenderness and their beautiful soul upon me forever.

I will cry with my dear friend over a broken heart, but I wont cry over my broken heart shaped vase.  I will drop everything if my parents have a need, but I wont drop everything to read my favorite book.    I will forget who broke my favorite coffee mug, but I will not forget who broke my child's heart.

Take away all my things "possessions"  and I will still be the richest person alive, because I have my people.  They have way more value than anything I could ever own.

How well do you love yourself? Quiz

I Corinthians 13:4 is a beautiful portrayal of love.  Many wedding ceremonies include this reading, because we all aspire to love this way and BE loved this way. God wanted us to know what REAL love is and how to recognize it.  I believe this scripture to be God's standard on how to love.  But I want to challenge you to think about this scripture in a slightly different way.  Loving others can be difficult.  No one loves perfectly, but what we are striving for is to be someone who TRIES to love this way. But if loving others is difficult, loving ourselves is just plain HARD!!  My question is, How well do you love yourself?  Take this quiz.....

LOVE IS PATIENT...  

A.  Do you give yourself grace to grow through difficult moments and events when life does not go according to your plan?  Are you calm while waiting on the Lord to direct your path and open your eyes?

B. Or are you easily agitated with yourself?  Are you frustrated that today you feel no closer to your authentic self than yesterday, and that change is moving too slow?

LOVE IS KIND....

A.  Are you tender and compassionate to yourself?  Do you speak words of encouragement to yourself?  

B.  Or do you beat yourself up for the mistakes that you made?  Are you harsh in your criticism and cruel in your self talk?

LOVE DOES NOT ENVY.....

A.   Do you rejoice in your success and blessings?  Do you feel gratitude and thanksgiving for all that God has entrusted you with?  

B.  Or do you resent what others have and feel like you deserve more than others?  Are you jealous of others and their blessings?

LOVE DOES NOT BOAST ....

A.   Do you put others first?  Do you feel like it is your responsibility to please others or God?  

B.  Or do you put yourself first?  Believing that you are better than others and if you don't take care of you, no one else will?

LOVE IS NOT PROUD....  

A.  Are you humble?  Do you say thank you when someone compliments you with sincerity and gratitude?

B.  Or are you prideful and believe you are better than everyone else and that you know best?

LOVE IS NOT RUDE.....  

A.  Are you polite to yourself?  Are you sensitive to how you are feeling and work through those feelings in healthy ways?  

B.  Or do you call yourself names like, your no good, or you always mess things up?  Are you abusive to yourself in words, actions or addictions?

LOVE IS NOT SELF SEEKING.....  

A.  Do you consider your own needs and try to reconcile them within yourself?  Are you willing to look in the mirror and deal with the messy sticky places?  

B. Or do you expect others to fill your needs?  Do you expect others to make you happy, or blame them when you are not.

LOVE IS NOT EASILY ANGERED.....

A.  Do you remain calm when things do not go your way?  Are you gentle with yourself when you make a mistake?

B.  Or, when you make a mistake are you quick to become angry with yourself?  Do you become angry and punch a wall to relieve your frustration at yourself?

LOVE KEEPS NO RECORD OF WRONGS....  

A.  Do you forgive yourself for past mistakes?  Do  you give yourself grace?  Or do you beat  yourself up for years for being such a screw-up?

B.   Do you hold a grudge and resent yourself for not seeing something bad coming, or continue to feel shame for consequences of past bad choices?

LOVE DOES NOT DELIGHT IN EVIL....  

A.  Do you protect yourself from unhealthy situations and people? Do you defend yourself against negative talk and surround yourself with "good" like minded people?

B. Or do you allow yourself to be in a position, or remain in a place, that creates wounds in you?  Are you allowing past hurts to haunt your future?

LOVE ALWAYS TRUSTS....

A.  Do you think the best of yourself?  Do you trust the holy spirit in you, and that still small voice that guides you?  

B.  Or are you afraid of how you feel and suspicious of your motives and thoughts?  Do you second guess yourself consistently?

LOVE ALWAYS PROTECTS....

A.  Are you making healthy godly choices?  Do you keep a watchful eye out for things that could hurt you.  Do you defend your Christian values and walk away from bad environments and situations?  

B.  Or do you allow other peoples opinions of you to hurt you, and threaten your value?

LOVE REJOICES WITH TRUTH....

A.  Does your self talk build you up, or tear you down?  Do you believe what God says about you? Do you know in your heart that you are already amazing, just the way you are? 

B.  Or do you believe the worst of what other people say about you?  Do you feel your not good enough, pretty enough or smart enough to be loved?

LOVE ALWAYS HOPES....  

A.  Are you confident in who you are?  Do you believe that God has a plan for your life?  Do you believe when things get tough, that God will guide you through the rough patches?  

B.  Or do you blame yourself for all your shortcomings?  Do you feel like things will never get any better?

LOVE ALWAYS PRESERVERS....  

A.  Do you believe that with Gods help you can overcome any difficulty or obstacle in your life?  Do you get back up and try again when you fail?  

B.  Or do you quit when things get hard or give up when the hurt is too much?

We are loved by a loving God.  He loves us so much that he often refers to us as his "beloved children."  God loves us today.  Not tomorrow when we make better choices, not when we finally get our act together, not after we die! NOW! God loves us perfectly and accepts us unconditionally today, not because of our performance, but because we are his children.  

If God sees all these things in us, and loves us, why can't we?  Why are we so hard on ourselves and think the worst about us?  I believe that if we do not have a healthy love for ourselves that we are not capable of loving others to God's standard.  

If you were to write yourself a love letter, would it contain the words, beloved, beautiful, wonderfully made, treasured?  That is exactly the things God says about us!  I struggle to see myself through God's eyes.  So many things get in the way, and I tend to listen to the other voices that clamor for my attention.  What if today, I saw myself through God's eyes?  Used his measure stick?  Believed I was uniquely and wonderfully made?  The brightest and clearest mirror of his creativity?  Would I love myself more?  Would it be a priority in my life to love what God loves and holds so dear?

Sticks And Stones

Sticks and stones may break my bones, but names can never harm me.  Isn't that the way the old saying goes?

Well sticks hurt.....  A couple weeks ago my grand-kids came to stay with me for 5 days while their parents were out of town.  They were not gone but 15 minutes and the two little ones retreated to the backyard.  Within one minute of being outside the littlest one tripped over a stick and loud cries could be heard echoing off the back walls.  I picked her up in my arms and soothed her tender heart.  I searched her body for the damage, quickly checked her mouth for blood, and found scratches, red and swollen on her legs.  I promptly cleaned her leg while talking to her in soothing tones but it was only after applying the proper princess band aid, did I see the real damage.  Looking into her eyes, I saw a huge big black lump between them.  My heart sank.  No wonder she was crying inconsolably.  Throughout the week there were more "head banging" accidents.  Piling into the car my grand daughter slipped and fell backward onto the pavement.  Walking on the path to the lake, she slipped and slid down the gravel hill on her back.  All I could think when I took her to church, or thought about her parents return, was what will people think?  Those sticks and stones had left their mark on her.  Visible evidence to hurt, harm and pain.  

Stones hurt.......  I few years ago I dropped a sheet of Masonite on my big toe.  I cried out in pain.  I pronounced my pain to everyone in the house to make sure they knew of my great distress.  They shrugged their shoulders.  Perhaps I am a drama queen and no one took me seriously.  My toe turned black immediately.  Still they were unmoved for sympathy.  I had to go to work, I had to put a shoe on my foot.  I am a server and I am moving on my feet all night.  I cried silently to myself throughout my whole shift.  When I finally got home and removed my shoe, my sock was full of blood.  The next morning, after not sleeping at all, I went to the doctor.  This was by far the greatest pain I had ever felt.  (may I remind you that I had five babies.)  The doctor was unsympathetic.  She told me to go next door, walk about a half a mile to the X ray place, and get an x ray.  I thought she was crazy.  I could barely walk!  After the x ray the technician came in with a wheelchair and said, you cant walk, you poor thing.  I am going to take a short cut back to the doctors office and I will try not to make any sudden moves or bumps.  Huh?  Upon entering the room the doctor greeted me with a big glass of water and a pillow to place under my foot.  She apologized and told me to just try to relax, she knew how much pain I must be in.  Huh?  Well the x rays showed that I had crushed all the bones in my big toe, and the doctor was moved to compassion only after the x ray proved worthy. The pressure had built up so much in that toe that the skin had split to relieve the pressure.  I was fitted with  a boot and told to stay off my foot.  As I walked through the front door with my boot on my foot, my children gazed upon me and I felt vindicated.  Visible evidence to hurt, harm and pain.  Stones hurt.

Everything I have done for 3 years has taken  thought and effort to avoid the pain to my toe. I was paralyzed from wearing shoes, running, walking and sleeping, or if heaven forbid, the sheets touched my toe.  It took a year for the nail to grow back only to have to have it removed again because the trauma to the toe caused it to grow back wrong.  I still struggle with the remnants of that trauma to the toe and nail.  And that's what a wound does to you.  The Webster dictionary defines a wound in a few ways.  But the one I want to talk about is definition 2 and 3.  It states....  "A feeling of sadness, anger etc, that is caused by something bad that has happened to you.  Or, a mental or emotional hurt or blow."

The problem with these kinds of wounds, unlike a physical wound, is they are not readily visible to others.  They are deep, and hidden in the dark sticky places in our soul.  And they are excruciatingly painful. They paralyze us.  They steal our joy.  Sometimes an emotional wound takes all our thought and effort to avoid the pain.  They shatter us into a thousand pieces and extinguish any hope.

Sticks and Stones may break my bones, but words can never harm me.  That is what we said.  That is what we told our children.  But it's not true.  Words hurt.  Words hurt in ways that no physical wound ever could.  Part of that hurt is because we tuck them deep inside us.  They hurt our heart.  They paralyze us.  But no one sees these hurts.  No one, until they brush up against it and are left wondering what happened. There is no x ray to prove the damage they cause, and so they remain hidden.  And when they are hidden, they don't get the treatment and healing that they need.  That is what makes these wounds so severe.

Words have power.  God spoke the world into exsistence by the power of his words.  We are created in his image in part because of the power we have with the words we speak.  The power we have with words can actually crush ones spirit.  They can intensify a wound or even inflict one.  The power to use words is a unique gift from God, and of all the creatures of the earth, we are the only ones that can communicate through the spoken word.

The bible has much to say on this power of words and the tongue.  “But I tell you that men will have to give account on the day of judgment for every careless word they have spoken. For by your words you will be acquitted, and by your words you will be condemned” (Matthew 12:36–37).  Words are so important to God, that we will have to give an account of what we say when we come face to face with Jesus.   Wow, when I read that I am convicted.  I have hurt people with my careless words, and in anger I have lashed out and used them as a weapon.  Words hurt.........

Mathew 12:34-35 states, " You brood of vipers, how can you who are evil say anything good?  for the mouth speaks what the heart is full of.  A good man brings good things out of the good things stored up in him, and the evil man brings up evil things of the evil stored up in him."  The words we speak are an overflow of what is in our heart.  

My heart has been broken by words carelessly spoken to me.  Some of those wounds are deep, and some I have been trying to heal for years.  I also, have hurt others, people I love, with words of bitterness, complaining or criticism, and I know it has grieved God's heart deeply.  

I am trying to be authentic with my words.  I am trying to guard my tongue from using it as a weapon.  I am striving to build up, encourage and bless others with the powerful gift God has given me.  Sticks and Stones may break my bones, and they do.  But words CAN harm me and others.  We may not always see the damage, the aftermath of our arsenal of careless hurtful words, but God knows their power.  The power to destroy.  Our words should demonstrate the power of God's grace, and evidence of the Holy Spirit living inside of us.  

I picture my one year old grand daughter, with her black and blue bruise on her face, and I am deeply moved to compassion.  May God open my eyes to see the bruises on others that careless words have left, and may I be equally moved to comfort and compassion.

The First Day Of School

I have had 65 first days of school.  This does not include preschool, college or my own first days of school.  As the baby of my family entered her senior year, she remarked that this was going to be my last "first" day of school.  Sigh.....  Now I never cried when my kids had their first day of school.  I saw other moms wiping back tears, and I was like......what?  Does this make me a bad mom?  Maybe.  But I had  whole quiver full of children left behind at home so.....

Summer is great!  No schedule, no "have to do's" and no frenzied mornings!  But when the first day of school arrives everyone is ready.  The house feels too cramped, the pool is boring, and quite frankly we are all sick of each other and anxious for some fresh blood.

Sometimes the anticipation of something new, something fresh, with unlimited possibilities is so exciting!  I learned to enjoy the adventure and excitement with my kids because as the year draws on, this in inevitably lost.  So here is what I learned in my 65 first days of school.

1.  I learned my kids did not always get the teacher I thought was the best.  But they got the one God thought was best for them.
2. I learned kids can be mean and hurtful.  So many times I wanted to march right down to that school and give that 3rd grader a piece of my mind! (oops, did I say that out loud)  But it taught my kids about character.  They learned compassion and empathy through those experiences.
3. I learned kids deserve a childhood.  If they wont fight for it I had to.  It is my job as a parent, however mean it may seem at the time to my child, I have to preserve it.  There is plenty of time for a job, a boyfriend or a girlfriend.   I learned to let them spread their wings, experience all they could across the board.  These are the things they will draw from later and they will learn many important life skills from.
4. I learned when to step in, and when to let them fight their own battles.  I learned that it is not about who wins, or who loses, but about the lessons learned.  Life is an adventure and it is about learning and growing.  This is THEIR journey.
5. I learned that showing up to my kids events showed love.  I learned that every first in their life was the most important thing to me.  I wanted to be their biggest cheerleader.
6. I learned that who your child hangs around with, will be reflected in their character.  Some friends have made have such a deep connection with my children that they have followed them into adulthood from grade school.  Be alert and aware of who your child is hanging out with.
7. I learned that my children were a lamp into the world.  By sending my children to public school, I believed that my children would be an example of Christ's love.  I knew they would hit obstacles and be tested, but I also knew that Jesus was a light into the heart and soul of everyone he met.  Protecting my children meant extinguishing their light.
8. I learned that the days are long, but the years are short.  Savor every moment of it.

Pain

I know a little something about pain.  There is no measure stick on who feels more pain, or how deep the cut feels.  We all feel pain differently. We all navigate the best we can but deep down we all want the wounds to heal and the hurt to stop.  How do we arrive there?  Is there a destination?  Does God really desire to heal the broken places?  And how do we begin the process?   Here is what I learned.

I know pain.  I have pushed 5 babies out into this world.  I have grieved for two babies that ended in miscarriage, babies I would never hold, except in my heart.

I have sat in the hard cold chairs in the hospital waiting room when my baby had a nine hour surgery, and when my son had been knocked  unconscious .  And again,  when the call came that my dad had a heart attack, I sat in those chairs waiting.

I have stood by my brother's bed and said my last goodbye, knowing there was so much time that went by that I could have said, "I admire you, I love you, and thank you for being my big brother." I saw my dad standing in the doorway when my brother had passed, tears streaming down his face, and felt his utter loss and sadness.

I have stroked my beloved pet, my best friend, as the vet gave him a shot to leave this earth.  I have held my little girls hand and wiped her tears when we put her guinea pig to sleep.

I have stood at the grave of those I'd loved, those that touched my heart deeply, and felt the emptiness engulf me.

I have watched my six year old child's heart shatter and fall to the ground when he realized his great grandmother was going to leave this earth.  I have picked him up, gathered him in my arms and sobbed with him when there were no words to soothe his broken soul. 

I have watched my daughter struggle for significance and fight through the pain of not feeling enough, not being loved enough, and not feeling wanted.

I have walked away from an eighteen year marriage, when I felt alone and lost.  And I have pushed away a twelve year relationship that was unhealthy to me and to him, because we were not good to and for each other.

I have overcome, embraced, and been faced with how I was not being who God had called me to be.  I have had to learn to be authentic and transparent, when all I wanted to do is hide and lick my wounds.  

Pain leaves its mark on us.  It leaves a wound that only Jesus can heal.  We all walk around with hidden wounds and secret hurts that paralyze us from living to God's potential for us.  But Jesus came to save us.  To heal those gaping wounds and clean away all the things that would infect our hearts and make us feel unworthy and in bondage to pain. We find true healing when when we lay our burdens and our pain at the cross, at Jesus's feet.  When we forgive others, and forgive ourselves.

The path to healing deep wounds sometimes seems insurmountable.  True deep pain was never meant to take up residence in our heart.  That is why our heart breaks.  But God is the ultimate restorer and when a broken heart shatters, he simply has more pieces to work with.  The path to healing starts with turning over those pieces to Jesus and letting him rebuild us.  

We can begin the healing process by applying the Word of God. (1) We need to see that God had a purpose in allowing us to be wounded (Genesis. 50:20). (2) We need to see that God can work all things together for our good (Romans 8:28). (3) We need to come to rejoice in the Lord over the experience (Philippians. 4:4). (4) We need to develop and share our testimony with others.

And today, I am saying.  I want to have a scar.  I want to run my hands over it and marvel at how beautiful it is.  Beautiful because it has healed. Beautiful because the suffering is gone.  Beautiful because I wear the mark of God's redemption and I am changed forever.

What Birthing Baby #5 Taught Me

I have always had this belief that suffering made love so much deeper.  That pain and doing things the hard way, made the joy so much stronger.  That passion was built out of great longing.  I believed it so much that I almost always (not consciously of course) took the hard path.  I wanted the depths of love and passion, so I chose suffering and strife, when I so could have chosen the easier way.

What was it in me that made me believe that I needed to push myself, see how much I could endure?  Why do I feel more worthy when I'm struggling, and less worthy when things just fall into place?  

I was sticking to my belief, until someone challenged me.  Someone asked me the hard questions.  "What do you get out of it?  "What are you trying to prove?"  "To Whom?" "To Yourself?"  "Why do you think anything of value has a cost to be paid, born out of great struggle?"

And that's been rattling around in my head.  I was being challenged on my belief, and I didn't have the solid answer.  Until now.  The aha moment caught me off guard and changed  my perspective.  My aha moment came as my youngest child's birthday approached. I was reflecting back and reminiscing about the day she was born, and something clicked.

When you are about to deliver your first baby, you have no idea what to expect.  Every pain, tinge, flutter and ache, feels like this is the time.  Or is it?  Usually not.  Three trips to the hospital declaring "I was in labor," and three trips being sent home.  Nine days overdue, I went into labor at 3 am.  I arrived at the hospital groggy, cranky and sure this baby would be arriving any minute.  The pain was horrible.  I was 3 whole centimeters dilated.  What???!!!

I informed the nurse for the 80th time, that I was NOT one of those crazy people who wanted to have natural childbirth, and could I please have my epidural.  She smiled, (again) and I wanted to rip that smile off her condescending face, (again) as she informed me, AGAIN, that I had to be further along in the process or it would stop my labor.  So, I patently (right) waited another five minutes before repeating my demands.  

It didn't matter that it was the final game of the Portland Trail Blazers game for the title, although it entertained everyone else.  All i knew is that I was suffering as no woman ever had, and I was going mad!  Twenty two hours  later and I was ready to push.  But not before they turned down my God loving, magic juice, epidural.  Evidently it is necessary to feel every horrible child-birthing pain in the last few hours.  I assumed this was a biblical rule, after-all God said after the fall of man that women would experience pain in childbirth.  

Well, I pushed, and pushed and, two hours later they told me I needed an emergency C-section.  I was devastated.  I felt robbed.  The good news was that my epidural was turned up full throttle and ahhhhh, I was back.  Back to be mentally alert to feel the cutting through my abdominal muscles, cutting through my uterus, pulling and tugging.  I thought I was being torn and shredded.  But alas, there before me arrived a perfect, beautiful, sweet little boy.  He was everything to me.  In the weeks that followed, everything hurt.  From the staples to the disolveable stitches that worked their way out from the inside. Sitting, walking, sleeping, laying, everything was excruciating!   But it was so worth it!  I had this beautiful baby, and I loved him immensely.  

Ten years later, four babies later, and waiting for the grand entrance of baby #5, I had no reason to believe that things would be any different this go round.  But it was.

My doctor had planned my inducement a week before my due date.  So, I arrived at the hospital well rested with curled hair, makeup, and even donning lipstick. (my mom would be so proud)  While getting me all settled and hooked up to all the monitors, the nurse asked me, "Do you want your epidural before we get started?"  She asked this casually like, "Would you like me to fluff your pillows?"  My eyes grew big as saucers, but I wasn't falling for this trickery.  I knew from the other four babies, you can only get your epidural after a few hours of painful labor.  So, instead I said, desperately trying to hide my excitement, "Seriously, I can do that?"  She laughed and said, "Honey, you popped four babies out, there ain't no stopping this one."  So, I ordered a double, as if I was getting a cocktail quick, before they could card me.

And so there I was for three hours, watching TV, reading 5 chapters of my book, still with perfectly curled hair and smudgeless lipstick.  I was kinda bored.  Finally I said, "I think I gotta poop."  Well, the nurse's eyes got real wide and she said we better have a look at that baby.  And then she announced, "I see the head!"  My doctor was paged but I was told he may be a while.  I decided to wait for him.  I mean it really didn't feel like I was about to have a baby.  After half and hour I said, "okay, well I guess I don't want to wait."  Another doctor was called in the room, and she said, "Okay, push!"  I did.  Once.  And there she was.  My perfectly beautiful precious baby girl.  I loved her with all of my soul.  I held her, marveled at her and for weeks I would say, "Someone pinch me, I can't believe I just had a baby!"

From baby #1 to baby #5, the contrast was dramatic.  But there was no contrast in  how much I loved and adored both those babies.  If I was a person who had made the belief that anything worth having had to be hard, or that to experience great love, one had to suffer great pan, then this very event shattered that belief.

In my quest to discover why I felt I had to do things the hard way, and learn the hard way, I leaned into God and let him expand my beliefs.  I thought God would say something profound, something that would melt my heart and justify my past choices in life.  But his words to me were,  "My dear precious child, get out of the way."  Pride is a major stumbling block in my life.  It keeps me from doing what God wants me to do.  And it prevents me from learning what God wants me to learn.  I needed to acknowledge that God is in control.  So now I'm saying, Lord, I'm going to move out of the way and let you be God.

I don't have to learn the hard way.  I can live and learn God's way.  I am yielding to His plan.  I am learning to have a teachable spirit and seek good advice from Godly people.  Sometimes my path will be hard.  Sometimes I am meant to struggle.  But when I let God chose my path, it will always be the best path for me.  And He will be there with me every step of the way.

10 Things Your Mom Never Told You

1.  She Cried....  A lot.  She cried when you were born and they placed you in her arms.  She was already so attached to you that the love was almost unbearable.  She cried when she couldn't protect or save you from life's tragedies.  She cried when your heart broke from losing someone you loved, or when someone broke your heart.

2.  She Put You First..  When she really wanted that last piece of cake, she gave it to you.  When she was sick and wanted glorious rest, she got up to tend to you.  She would drop everything to come and see you perform or compete.  She loved you too much to miss a single moment.  She spent her last dollar to make sure your needs were met.  She lived off four hours of sleep for years making sure you had everything you needed.  She would take your call at 2 am to listen to your heart, even though all she wanted was sleep, because you were too important to her.  

3.  It Broke Her Heart When You Cried....  When you skinned your knee or bumped your head, your precious tears broke her heart to see you hurting.  When you were sick and she rocked you and held you, her heart was breaking for you.  When you cried when your boyfriend or girlfriend broke up with you, her heart broke for your loss.  When someone said or did something mean to you, her heart ached.

4.  She Was Always Afraid.....  She was afraid when you slept too long and would run to check on your breathing.  When one minute you were right beside her and the next she couldn't find you, panic gripped her.  She was afraid to leave you in the care of others.  She was afraid when you got your license and drove by yourself.  When the phone rang late at night, or when she heard sirens, all of these made her heart skip a beat.  She was afraid when you stayed out too late, or when you locked yourself in your room.

5.  She Had Your Back.....  When someone misjudged you she stood up for you.  When you were treated unfairly she went behind the scenes and defended you.  When you couldn't complete a task, she went behind you and finished it.

6.  She Shielded You From Hurt...  There were things she did not tell you so that you could have a childhood and be a child.  She allowed you to be who God created you to be, even when she didn't understand your personality.  Even though she couldn't protect you from everything, she tried.  She watched the wall for you, and it broke her heart when something would slip through and hurt you, and she blamed herself for being a failure.

7.  She Prayed For You.....  She prayed for your precious heart.  When you struggled, when you hurt, when you were lost, because she knew she may not be able to help you, but God could.  She prayed for God to keep you safe.  

8.  She Knows She Has Made Mistakes....  She knows she has made mistakes in her life, and that those choices have affected you.  Her heart breaks for that.  As angry as you have gotten at her for that, she has been more angry at herself.  She has not always been the perfect mom.  She knows there are things she would do over again if only she could.  

9.  She Will Always Carry You....  She did not just carry you for 9 months.  She carried you when she cooked, when she cleaned.  She carried you when she ate and when she slept.  She carried you because you needed her to.  She carried you when the world disappointed you, and when life let you down.  She will always carry you no matter where she is or what she is doing if you need her.

10.  She Would Do It All Again.....  She would sign up all over again, even if it meant 18 hours of soul shattering labor, those stretch marks, and her body was never going to be the same.  Even if she had to go through those long nights of ER visits, fret and worry, and the the longer nights of waiting for you to come home.  You are her greatest treasure.  You are the crown of her jewels.  

Mr Potato Head

Most of us can remember "Mr Potato Head" from our childhood.  It was great fun to take apart his pieces and rearrange them in funny ways.  What parent did not become annoyed at our constant, "look at his silly face." "look how cool this is!"  "Look at him now!"  "Look at him now, and now and now.....

Sometimes as a grownup, I find myself wanting to believe that the relationships in my life are just like my "Mr Potato Head" of my childhood.  I want to move things around a little bit, and omit a few things.  

My children would look like this....  they would have many ears so they could hear my instruction.  They would have many hands so they could do all their chores quickly and efficiently.  But, I would remove their mouth so they couldn't talk back, no legs so they couldn't run away, and definitely no eyes so they couldn't see my bad examples.

We, (I) tend to want to do this in my relationships as well.  I would place big ole ears on them so they were great at listening to my side of the story.  I'd give them arms to comfort me and hold me.  But I would not give them a nose so they couldn't stick it in my business.  And forget the mouth so they couldn't tell me their feelings or opinions of me.

In doing this I was trying to make the relationships in my life more comfortable for me.  I had expectations that I placed on those around me to make me feel good about myself and lets face it, make life easier.  When our children see our bad examples and mistakes in life we feel shame.  When our partner shares their feelings with us that we have hurt them, we feel ugly and cruel.  If we could just "pop" their mouth off or remove their eyes, well, we could avoid a lot of pain.

But God did not create people, or relationships that way.  They were never meant to be opaque, but transparent.  They were meant to be an exchange of truth and vulnerability.  It's not about getting our own needs  met, as much as it is coming together in all our brokenness and vulnerability and loving each other through it.

Once I realized this, I was also faced with the question, "Am I doing this with God?"  Am I making him my own "Mr Potato Head" God?  Do I want him to have ears to hear my prayers and pleas when I cry out to him?   Hands to catch me when I fall and legs to run to me when I need him?  I surely don't want him to have a mouth to tell me what I am doing wrong, or eyes to see what I am doing wrong.

Reducing God into a small form that we can be comfortable with is idolatry.  We can never truly have a deep meaningful relationship with our Lord, if we don't understand the whole of Him.  When we start removing parts to make us more comfortable with Him, we remove his holiness and the very nature of who He is.  Ultimately then, He has no effect in our lives.  We remove the holy spirits power to move us and transform us.

The next time I feel like I want to "rearrange" some parts on my "Mr Potato Head" relationships, I will remind myself that God is the ultimate creator.  He placed all the perfect parts there for a reason.  And maybe, just maybe, I can look at all those beautiful parts and exclaim, " Look how cool this is!"

The Whistle Man

A few years ago, I went to visit my aunt and uncle in Michigan.  My aunt is a musical savant.  She is known around the world for her "gift" of music and playing unusual and eclectic instruments.  When I was visiting with them, my aunt announced we were going on a road trip to see a "world famous" Irish whistle maker.  She had high hopes to buy one of these special whistles.  Road trip!!!!!  FUN!!  But when we were belted in the car en route to said whistle craftsman, she informed us that this whistle man was no ordinary man.  he was eccentric, AND it had been known that if he didn't like you, he would NOT sell you his whistles!  

We were under strict instructions to be on our BEST behavior, no matter the circumstances.  Well, I am a rule follower, so I thought no worries.  We got this.  I mean how bad could it be?

We pulled up the gravel driveway to an old farm house.  Around the back of the house was a barn like shed.  There were hundreds of whistles hanging from the old rafters, and I remember a big long wood table took up most of the floor space.  My aunts eyes light up like a kid in a candy store.  In her amazing way she charmed the old whistle man and was soon playing whistle after whistle to find just the right one.  I could tell that this eccentric artist wasn't so sure about people touching his crafted masterpieces.  I was starting to get nervous that we would be sent away empty handed, and my aunt would be devastated!  But soon his focus shifted and that's when I realized I was in the hot seat.  

The old man set his sights on me.  The closer he would get to me, I would take two steps away from him.  I was trying not to be obvious, but pretty soon I was doing laps around the table in lightning speed to flee from the whistle man, and yet not blow our mission.  On about my sixth lap, I looked over at  my uncle and gave him the "hairy eyeball."  The one that specifically said loud and clear, "Are you serious!"  "Rescue me!"  Three more laps around the table, my eyebrow raised to my uncle clearly said, "Don't make me tell my dad, your older brother, that you didn't SAVE ME!"  My uncle was in a conundrum.  Abandon his niece in her time of need, or drive home in the car two hours with his wife who was whistle denied.  

This whole time, ironically, beautiful music was being made by my aunt as she played every one of those whistles hanging from the rafters.  I do mean every one of them!  

Evidently the whistle man was growing tired of the cat and mouse game and announced he was parched and needed a refill on his "special" water.  I quickly saw this as my escape opportunity to flee, even though I was more terrified to go to the old house and what I would encounter there.  My uncle was relieved too, as it let him off the hook to rescue me.  I was told the "water" was on the screened porch, and I was instructed to refill his jug.  Well, I did not want to let my aunt down, so I swallowed my fear and marched to the old house.

Once inside the back screen door, I was shocked.  The floor boards were missing in spots and I could see the ground beneath my feet.  There was so much stuff, I didn't know where to look.  I didn't know what the special water was, so I didn't know what to look for.  I could see out the porch windows, my uncle in the shed, and I was jumping up and down waving my arms frantically to get his attention, careful not to put my foot thru the floorboard.  But my attempts were futile.  I was on  my own, left with this sinking feeling.  I couldn't go back out and say I couldn't find it, because that may make the whistle man upset.  I was wrestling with the morality of distributing alcohol to a man who clearly had a problem, but I loved my aunt and I told myself, "girl, you can do this!"  "She needs her whistles!"

Somehow I found some plastic jugs.  None of them marked "special" water by the way.  Nor were they marked moonshine, but they smelled funny and I filled his mug and marched back to the shed.

We left with three whistles.

I tell you this story because it is funny.  I tell you this story because it is crazy!  But there is another reason.  A reason that rings true to me today as I look back at this experience.  I would do anything, push through anything, rise to the occasion, persevere through difficult situations, and face fear, for the people I love.  I did it then, I do it now, and I would do it in the future.  What is important to them is important to me. If in any way I can help them or aid them, I will.  

So I find myself asking myself, "How far would I go to secure my relationship with Jesus?"  Would I give up comfortable?  Would I allow myself to be put in situations that threatened my safety and security?  Would I give up my cool image and allow myself to be uncomfortable for my belief and trust in Jesus?

Do I care as much about letting Jesus down, as i do about letting people down?  Do I care about what Jesus thinks more than I care about what other people think?  

Would I give up the known, to venture into territories that make me think, leave me questioning and wrestling with choices?  Would I step out in faith, and trust what I have no experience in? Would I openly face my fears and ultimately conquer them for the reward of serving my King?

What about my pride?  Would I lay down my self centered focus on myself and what others think of me, to follow what Jesus says about me?  Would I give up control to manipulate the outcome that I want, to have the outcome that Jesus desires?  Would I risk looking silly or soft, to have a relationship with Jesus?  

The whistles that I was so willing to secure for my aunt, were one of a kind, unique, precious beautifully crafted, masterpieces.  Like those whistles, my relationship with Jesus is something that can never be duplicated or imitated.  It is a one of kind, special, most precious, and masterfully created relationship.  There is no greater prize than his love.  

I want to be a person who lives on the edge for Jesus.  I want to be a person who would do anything and be everything that Jesus calls me to be.  Yes, my whistle man story is a funny story, one I will not soon forget.  Because it taught me a great lesson.  It brought to my attention the great lengths we will go to for the ones we love.  If I love Jesus, what great lengths will I go to in securing a right relationship with him?  At the end of the day it will not be "just" three whistles I walk away with.  It will be all the grace and mercy and blessings that only a life filled with Jesus can offer.