tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13899661279047585232024-02-20T11:08:25.887-08:00Go.Ready.Set.Last year I completed the Prayer Challenge by Mark Batterson. During that time I circled many prayers, promises and goals. One was to pursue my dream to be a writer. I knew this dream was God-given, yet many things kept me from moving forward; fear, inexperience, lack of faith. On Day 20, Mark wrote "God does not call the qualified; He qualifies the called. You'll never be ready. You'll never be set. Sometimes you just need to go for it. The sequence of faith is: Go.Set. Ready." So here I go.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15956148299876532847noreply@blogger.comBlogger4125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1389966127904758523.post-74455343022247977462014-05-28T11:28:00.004-07:002014-05-28T12:29:14.599-07:00When Doubt Whispers<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<span style="color: black; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I struggle with doubt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Anyone else? Not just simple uncertainty or
momentary hesitation but debilitating doubt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Doubt that leaves me absolutely paralyzed. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Often the biggest obstacle hindering us from
living out the life God has planned and designed for us is our own self-doubt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Doubt about our worth, our position and our
abilities.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Self-doubt is like a whisper
influencing and consuming us from within.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Doubt whispers, “You are not good enough…not capable…not special…not wanted…”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If we are not preemptive these whispers become
the undertone of our lives and the very thing that stops us in our tracks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 12pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="color: #333333; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I cannot tell you how
often these phrases or similar ones circulate within my mind. They begin as
small faint whispers, but before long transform into thunderous accusations that
completely incapacitated me. In my sane moments, I know these words to be from the inciter, my
enemy, but too often, I lose sight of logic and begin to spiral into a place of
fear and doubt. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yet I know truth and am in
fact really good at speaking truth into the lives of others.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am often in awe of their unique gifts,
confident in their divine capability and well aware of their inestimable worth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can assure them they are uniquely and
wonderfully made (Psalm 139:14); however, I struggle when trying to speak this
same truth into my own life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is as if
God’s promises do not apply to me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And
of course this is nonsense.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His promises
are for all!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He has proved this time and
time again throughout history and also in my own life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yet, one of my greatest doubts revolves
around His love for me, or my perceived absence of His love. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>During these times, I wonder, does He really
love me?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 12pt 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span lang="EN" style="color: #333333; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">God powerfully
illustrated this for me the other night. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was attending my final pre-mission’s trip
meeting and was missing our regular bedtime routine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I called when the meeting ended and said good
night to each child.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I still had an
hour’s drive home, but my daughter, Katherine, made me promise that although
she was certain to be asleep, I needed to come in and get one of her “special”
kisses.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I assured her I would and told
her how much I would be looking forward to it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The trip home took longer than expected and I then lingered downstairs
catching up with my husband, Jon, and getting things prepared for the next
day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Eventually I headed upstairs and
into Katherine’s room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As soon as I
opened the door, I was met with an anguished cry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I headed to Katherine’s bed and found her
inconsolable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I could not understand
what was going on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I tried to gage the
situation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Was she sick?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In pain?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Had she just woken from a nightmare?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Finally through her sobs, I began to understand that she was hurt because I had not wanted one of her “special” kisses.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I tried to assure her that of course I wanted
a Katherine kiss and that is why I had purposely come into her room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 12pt 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span lang="EN" style="color: #333333; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>“But what took you so long?” she managed to
gasp out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 12pt 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span lang="EN" style="color: #333333; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">It was then that</span><span lang="EN" style="color: #333333; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> I began to piece together a clearer
picture.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She had heard me come home and
had expected me to come straight up to her room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The longer I lingered downstairs, the more
she began to doubt my sincerity and my love.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>By the time I reached her room she had bought into the lie that I did
not want a kiss or perhaps even value her kisses.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even worse, she began to wonder if I did not
love her with the intensity she had thought I had.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Truthfully, I was stunned.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How could Katherine even question my love for
her or her kisses?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hadn’t I always made
my love for her clear in words and actions?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>How could a few moments of waiting completely unravel years of
affection?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 12pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="color: #333333; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I climbed into bed with
Katherine and held her until she was no longer sobbing and then I began to
speak truth into her wounded soul.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 12pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="color: #333333; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Katherine, is what your
feeling truth?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 12pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="color: #333333; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Her breathing began to
accelerate and her tears began to fall once again as she recounted the incident
and its mathematical conclusions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
quickly interrupted her before her rehashing of the night’s events brought her
back to a place of pain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 12pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="color: #333333; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Katherine, do you know
that I love you?”</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 12pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="color: #333333; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Katherine: “Yes, but…”</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 12pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="color: #333333; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Do I not tell you I love
you all the time?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Do I not show you that
I love you every day?”</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 12pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="color: #333333; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Katherine: “You do, but…”</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 12pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="color: #333333; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Just because it took me
a few minutes longer to get upstairs, does that mean that I do not love you and
I do not want one of your special kisses?”</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 12pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="color: #333333; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Our conversation
continued, we recounted instances of my love and repeated my many words of
affection, and before long Katherine agreed that the thoughts she had
experienced were not truth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That in
truth I loved her more than words and treasured every moment with her and every
one of her kisses.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 12pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="color: #333333; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">By the time I left her
room her tears had subsided and she knew that her mom adored her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But as I closed the door, I was still stunned
and surprised that she would ever doubt my affection or react in such a
manner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hadn’t I always covered her in
love?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Didn’t my daily actions express my
unfailing love for her?</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 12pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="color: #333333; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Suddenly, I felt God
respond, “Now you understand.” </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 12pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="color: #333333; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">And that is when I
realized I do this all the time to God.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He loves me with a love that is beyond human understanding.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He consistently lavishes me with gifts and
blessings. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He demonstrates His love
daily.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yet, with one perceived moment of
neglect, Satan’s whisper, “He does not care about you,” unravels all the love
and promises that God has securely wrapped me in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Since the garden this has been Satan’s
greatest tactic, weaving doubt into our story.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 12pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="color: #333333; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I remember hearing about
an experiment where rats were given a lever and each time they pushed it they
would receive a treat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Once the rats
figured out the lever’s function, they pushed it constantly. This continued for
quite some time and each time it faithfully produced a snack…until one time it didn’t.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But that’s all it took.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The scientists found that after the lever did
not produce its harvest, the rats stopped pushing it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The lever was reset to function immediately
after this incident, but the rats never realized it because they had lost faith
in its operation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Had they tried one
more time they would have received their prize.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The scientists applied these findings to human beings claiming we too
need only one negative experience to completely undo all the positive
ones.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remember thinking, this could
not be accurate, but haven’t I proven this in my life?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Doesn’t God provide us with abundant blessings
upon abundant blessings, only to be rejected the moment we do not receive what
we think we deserve?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hasn’t He time and
time again proven Himself faithful only to have the one time He appears absent
make us doubt Him?</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 12pt 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span lang="EN" style="color: #333333; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">This is why throughout
the bible you will find Israel reiterating their history.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was important for them to recount God’s
miracles and blessing in order for them to remember His consistent presence and
love, especially during times they sensed Him absent (Nehemiah 9).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just as I had to recount with Katherine
instances of my love and affection, we need to replay God’s faithfulness in our
lives so that we do not allow perceived absences transcend His daily
presence.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And then we need to recite His
promises.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just as I had Katherine
declare the truth of my love for her, we need to affirm His promises of
unfailing love (</span><span style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Isaiah 54:10) and His </span><span lang="EN" style="color: #333333; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">unceasing
presence (</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Deuteronomy 31:6).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div>
<div class="line1" style="margin: 1em 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">There may be times in our lives
that God appears distant or even absent and perhaps like the lab rats we may doubt
or even reject Him, but we need to remember that we are just one more attempt
from His power and presence in our lives.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We just need to trust in Him for He is trustworthy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span class="reftext"><b><o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="line1" style="margin: 1em 0in;">
<span class="reftext"><b><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Lamentations
2: 22- 24<br />
</span></b></span><a href="http://biblehub.com/lamentations/3-22.htm"><b><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="color: #3b5998;">“</span></span></b></a><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Because of the <span class="name">Lord</span>’s great love we are
not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great
is your faithfulness. I say to myself, “The <span class="name">Lord</span> is my
portion; therefore I will <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">wait</i></b> for him.”</span><span lang="EN" style="color: #333333; font-size: 14pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15956148299876532847noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1389966127904758523.post-43577010552159324422014-02-22T18:33:00.000-08:002014-02-22T18:33:35.003-08:00Mother of the Year<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">So, I have a confession. I thought this post was for you. I knew God
laid it on my heart and I bathed it in prayer. Yet, it did not flow eloquently
or effortlessly. I struggled with it. It consumed me. I wrote and I revised and
I wrote and I revised. My heart had so much to say, but my fingers could not
articulate the thoughts. So I continued to ponder this message and pray to God
for its content. That is when He revealed the problem. I had not yet grasped
the lesson that I was trying to convey, therefore, how could I be the messenger?
It was going to take more than writing it out; it was going to take living it
out. So, like Jacob, I have been wrestling with my failures and weaknesses. And
similarly, like Jacob, I may forever walk with a limp, but I will overcome.
(Genesis 32:22-32) Thankfully, I may not be where I want to be, but I am no
longer where I was!</span></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</span></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I received a text from a friend of mine the other day. She had
been under a lot of stress in her roles as nurse, mom, wife, and student. On
this particular day after having cleaned, studied, volunteered in the
classroom, played with her kids, and prepared meals, she found herself losing
her temper with her son.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He had taken
the laundry baskets full of freshly folded clothes and dumped them on her living
room floor. She found him swimming, dancing and jumping through them. On a
different day she may have corrected him with kindness, but on this particular
day she scolded him in anger. After sending him to his room, she sat on her
couch and cried. In her text to me later that evening she referred to herself
as “mother of the year”, but instead of wearing that title as a badge of honor
upon her chest, she wore it as a pendant of shame around her neck. I have heard
countless women brand themselves in this manner and truthfully I have sarcastically
seared myself with the same scorching iron, but for some reason, it touched a
nerve with me this time. I thought about that text for days, pondering its
meaning and my own unsettled reaction. What I realized is that, regardless of
the playful tone, this comment was another attempt to belittle our worth and
undermine our efforts. No matter how much we accomplish, no matter how many
things we get right, we allow our failures, missteps and oversights to
completely supersede our successes. And to persecute ourselves further, we
compare ourselves to others in ways we could never match. With the live feed of
everyone’s achievements pouring in from places such as Facebook and Twitter, we
are receiving regular reminders of our deficiencies. As children we felt the
sting of other people’s pebbles, but as adults we seem to prefer to inflict our
own scars. The truth is, we weigh ourselves with inaccurate measures and we
allow these results to influence our view of who we are.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In a world that esteems individuality, we
still contend for sameness. But we are <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">not</i>
the same; we are fearfully and wonderfully made. (Psalm 139:14) In the original
Hebrew text, the word <i><span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">'wonderfully'</span></i>
means: unique, set apart, uniquely marvelous. We should appreciate our
differences and acknowledge our individuality.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Therefore, it is time to permit our triumphs to determine
our value and allow each other’s accomplishments to motivate us. We are surrounded
by a cloud of witnesses. (Hebrews 12:1) <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
know because I have been personally blessed by these amazing mothers in my
life. Their examples have influenced me, inspired me and bettered me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">So, this is to them and this is to you (and apparently this
is to me), The Mothers of the Year:</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I do not admire you because you are perfect. I admire you
because in your imperfection, you have stayed, you have strived, you have
persevered, and you have grown.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">You have lain on the floor of your son’s bedroom slaying dragons
and diverting boogeymen into the wee hours of the night. You have held back
your daughter’s hair and cleaned buckets. You have overcome frigid temperatures
to make snow forts and sledding ramps. You have worked two jobs when you ached
to be home and you have given up your own dreams of success for a full-time
position as a domestic engineer. You have prepared hundreds of cookies for fundraisers
and school parties. You have fulfilled birthday fantasies equipped solely with
icing and fondant. You have raced from soccer games to dance rehearsals to play
practices in order to foster your child’s gifts and interests. You have fought
for your child’s label, but have not allowed that label to become their
identity or to determine their capacity.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>You have spent days in doctor’s offices and hospital rooms. You have
read the same books over and over again until their covers tore and their lyrics
looped continuously through your mind. You have homeschooled and seen the light
ignite from within their eyes. You have cancelled dinners and rejected invitations
in favor of bedtime routines and bible stories. You have been an audience of
one to each evening’s flute performance and violin demonstration. You have
exhibited patience when you were drowning in demands and distributed grace when
you were disappointed. You discussed strategies on Minecraft and overcame King
Koopa in Super Mario Land. You bandaged external wounds and embraced internal
ones. You performed French manicures, paraffin pedicures and intricate updos in
preparation for school dances and recitals. You hosted sleepovers that were
absent of sleep and still greeted your guests with chocolate chip pancakes for
breakfast. You praised your child’s accomplishments and encouraged your child
in the midst of failures. You allowed your kid to frolic in mud puddles and
splash in the rain, focusing on the laughter and not the disarray. You documented
their lives with videos and scrapbooks in your efforts to freeze time. You held
your child when they would not let you go, and let them go in faith when they
would no longer hold on. You coached softball and mighty mites with little
experience and after working full days. You have struggled with a diagnosis but
not once allowed your child to recognize your pain. You built Lego models,
Lincoln log houses, Geo-Trax communities, and Hot Wheel roadways, and then
played within these imaginary worlds until the next adventure beckoned. You
have gone from hero to villain in the eyes of your child, and remained
unwavering in your affection and persistent in your availability. You have rented
prom attire, toured colleges, and shopped for bridal gowns while recalling the
precious face of your newborn and inhaling their sweet scent. You have labored,
adopted, fostered and mentored, and come to understand the unconditional bond
of motherhood.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">You are patient. You are kind. You are honoring. You are
selfless. You are forgiving. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
You protect. You trust. You hope. You persevere. You never fail. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">You are a mom. You are LOVE! (1 Corinthians 13:4-8)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15956148299876532847noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1389966127904758523.post-40748043872659393812014-02-15T18:02:00.000-08:002014-02-15T19:30:49.965-08:00<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">February 15, 2014</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><strong>Why, O LORD, do you stand far away?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Why do you hide yourself in times of trouble?"
Ps 10:1</strong></span></span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Some days it seems as though sorrow is a permanent fixture.
It welcomes you as you rise, hangs on your walls, and follows you through your
day. Sometimes this sadness is my own, my uncle’s passing, my grandmother
fading, my children hurting. Other times your heart aches for those around you
as grief engulfs their lives. In those moments we question God, His goodness,
His existence, His love. How can there be a God when the world is contaminated
with evil and pain? Where is God when I am hurting and broken and lost? I know
I am not the first to ponder these questions or even to put my thoughts to
paper. In the passage above even King David, whose intimacy with God far surpasses
my own, sometimes questioned God’s presence in his life. There have been many
blogs, books and conferences investigating this topic and the questions go as
far back as the beginning of time. In the time of Genesis, Job protested:</span></div>
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<sup><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">2 </span></span></sup><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Even today my complaint is bitter;<br />
his hand is heavy in spite of groaning.<br />
<sup>3 </sup>If only I knew where to find him;<br />
if only I could go to his dwelling!<br />
<sup>8 </sup>“But if I go to the east, he is not there;<br />
if I go to the west, I do not find him.<br />
<sup>9 </sup>When he is at work in the north, I do not see him;<br />
when he turns to the south, I catch no glimpse of him.<br />
Job 23:2-3, 8-9</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I was pondering these questions the other day as my
girlfriend shared the loss of her aunt. Pain veiled her face and the recent
grief of my uncle rose up inside me. Where is God, I wondered.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At that moment I heard Him gently revealing
to me, “Your eyes are focused on the wrong place.” And as the words pierced
through the pain, I realized that all the while I was pondering His existence
and presence, I was rubbing the beautiful, pregnant belly of my friend. Suddenly
my focus changed and I felt like my eyes were opened.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In that moment, God graciously flashed moments
of my greatest pain before my eyes, but in these glimpses He revealed to me His
consistent presence and His unfailing love. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My best friend arriving at my grandfather’s
funeral just as I felt I could no longer breathe, my first daughter being born
on the year anniversary of Jon’s cousins death establishing beauty from ashes,
my girlfriend’s invitation to new life when I was ready to end my own, my son’s
kisses on my tear-streaked face and my husband’s embrace at the end of a day
whose weight had seemed unbearable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">It is true, in this life there will be pain; death, divorce,
conflict, suicide and loss. In these moments, it is inevitable to wonder if
there is a purpose to this life that is littered with pain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One girlfriend recently commented, “We are
made to suffer.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In her anguish, I am certain
it feels this way, and I know I have allowed pain’s snare to lead me to similar
conclusions. Yes,we will suffer, but we will also rejoice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And in our suffering, we will also experience
life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The most horrific day for me was when my cousin died in
March of 2005.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was only 16.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He died in a car accident not far from where
I live now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I revisit his death
regularly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The injustice and
senselessness have caused me to question God’s character and has the ability to
incapacitate me. At the time I felt so unbelievably guilty as I carried my
unborn child within me to the funeral while my aunt and uncle buried their own.
I felt raw sitting in the pew.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Moments
such as these reveal your vulnerability and defenselessness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The pastor lovingly shared how the Virgin
Mary lost her own child tragically and therefore heaven could relate. In those
moments I felt Katherine Rose flutter within me for the first time. I was not sure
at first, but then the sensation came again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The despair did not lessen with her movement, but it helped to realign
my focus.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are not made to suffer, but
there will be suffering.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span class="woj"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Here
on earth you will have many trials and sorrows. But take heart, because I have
overcome the world.” <br />
John 16:33 NLT</span></i></span></div>
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<span class="woj"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It would be so easy to allow the world’s
troubles to engulf us as we question the purpose of our existence and the
futility of our efforts, but rest assured, He has promised beauty from our
ashes… </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span class="text"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The
Spirit of the Sovereign </i></span><span class="small-caps"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span></i></span><span class="text"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> is on me,</i></span></span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><br /><span style="font-family: Calibri;">
<span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text">because
the </span><span class="small-caps"><span style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span></span><span class="text"> has anointed me</span><br />
<span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text">to
proclaim good news to the poor.</span><br />
<span class="text">He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,</span><br />
<span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text">to
proclaim freedom for the captives</span><br />
<span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text">and
release from darkness for the prisoners,</span><br />
<span class="text"><sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">2 </span></sup>to proclaim the year of the </span><span class="small-caps"><span style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span></span><span class="text">’s favor</span><br />
<span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text">and
the day of vengeance of our God,</span><br />
<span class="text">to comfort all who mourn,</span><br />
<span class="text"><sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">3 </span></sup></span><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text">and provide for those who grieve in Zion—</span><br />
<span class="text">to bestow on them a crown of beauty</span><br />
<span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text">instead
of ashes,</span><br />
<span class="text">the oil of joy</span><br />
<span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text">instead
of mourning,</span><br />
<span class="text">and a garment of praise</span><br />
<span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text">instead
of a spirit of despair.</span><br />
<span class="text">They will be called oaks of righteousness,</span><br />
<span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text">a
planting of the </span><span class="small-caps"><span style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span></span><br />
<span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span></span><span class="text"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">for
the display of his splendor.<br />
Isaiah 61:1-3</span></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span class="text">I cannot understand the purpose in the loss
of a child or in a number of other sorrows.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I cannot imagine trying to look beyond the grief that consumes you, but
what I can assure you is that there will be a day when your eyes will see God’s
goodness, in the smile of a friend, in the majesty of nature, in the joy of
laughter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then your eyes will begin to
refocus and as you look back you will see, that even in your grief, God was
there holding your hand, or bringing you a meal, or sitting next to you in
silence, or like me fluttering from within. This is His promise, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“</i></span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">And remember, I am with you each and every day until the end of the
age.” </i>Matthew 28:20 ISV <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15956148299876532847noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1389966127904758523.post-66226782106036549612014-02-13T19:43:00.005-08:002014-02-13T19:50:03.135-08:00Good-bye Zio<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">February 13, 2014<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">My very first post -this is very intimidating. There is an
expectation of greatness which I am sure is completely self-imposed. In the
past, this thought has hindered me from getting started, but not today.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There will probably not be greatness today,
but there will be a beginning and I can only grow from there.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">My uncle died last week. Although he has battled Parkinson’s
for some years now, the call surprised me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I could hear in my mother’s voice that the world had just experienced
true loss. I was waiting to hear that my grandmother had passed. It is a call I
am semi-consciously waiting for almost every day, especially since my
grandfather passed a year and a half ago. Nonna has Alzheimer’s but perhaps a
better description would be that Alzheimer’s has her. This disease has taken
her and imprisoned her in a cell that while familiar is completely
impenetrable. She is there but inaccessible. Alzheimer’s has changed my life
and I am sure it’s infiltration will provide plenty of reflections, but those
are for another day. Today, it was my uncle. He had died in his sleep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">My heart was heavy and my words were few. Immediately my
heart longed to be with my cousins who lost their father and their hero, their
children who would never really know their “Nonno”, and his wife who lost her
best friend. In the days after people would try to offer words of
encouragement and I too tried to do the same.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>However, the truth is, the world lost someone extraordinarily special
and no words could compensate for that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The funeral came and I was thankful to be there with my mom
and my sister. As soon as we walked up the steps of St. Peter’s church memories
of childhood flooded over me. This place reminded me of him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I could almost hear the walls whisper his
name. We entered the doors and were greeted with an Italian rendition of
Hallelujah.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The melody hung in the air
and as words clung to my soul. We sat in the pew behind childhood friends and waited
in expectation as the family said their final good-byes in a funeral home not
far away. Brief, hushed conversations interjected the uncomfortable silences
that filled the sanctuary. The family arrived later than expected and left me
wondering how hard it must be to say a final good-bye and to close a coffin.
Perhaps we think we can put off the inevitable?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">They walked in, huddled together, tear-streaked and grief-stricken.
The service was filled with scripture, music and stories. The priest shared a
personal and moving eulogy which was further evidence of my uncle’s gracious
character.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Tears glistened in the eyes
of each person present. Once the priest finished speaking, my three cousins
proceeded arm-in-arm to the front of the sanctuary. Together they shared their
sadness and their loss, but also their beautiful memories and the legacy their
father had left behind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The tears that had been rolling down my cheeks were now like
rushing waters and suddenly I could hear a groaning begin to internalize. I
tried to control the sounds from surfacing, but it did not take me long to
realize I was powerless.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The heaviness
engulfed me with moans and groans that were not my own. They came from a depth
deep inside and made me aware that I was not alone in my sadness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Romans 8:26 came to mind, </span></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“In
the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought
to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans.”</span></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">While knowing what he was about to do,
Jesus wept at the tomb of Lazarus overcome with sorrow for his friends.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Similarly, the Holy Spirit was interceding
for me and shared in my grief. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span class="text"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">For we do not have a high
priest who is unable to empathize with our weakness. (Hebrew 4:15)</i></span></span></div>
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<span class="text"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">What a beautiful assurance to know we are
not alone, Jesus Christ has sent us the Counselor to be with us, plead for us
and comfort us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I no longer tried to
resist the sounds, but allowed them to engulf me, knowing my grief was heard,
and seen and shared.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span class="text"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The mass ended and we left in silence, but
I am so thankful that the day did not end there. We all went to my uncle’s
favorite restaurant. The place was filled with memories and laughter, family
and friends. We spent hours sharing stories and celebrating his life. Our
mourning turned to gladness as we remembered a life well-lived.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><b><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">1 Thessalonians
4:13-18</span></b><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> (NIV)</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><sup><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: x-small;">13 </span></span></sup><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Brothers
and sisters, we do not want you to be uninformed about those who sleep in
death, so that you do not grieve like the rest of mankind, who have no hope. <sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">14 </span></sup>For
we believe that Jesus died and rose again, and so we believe that God will
bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in him. <sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">15 </span></sup>According
to the Lord’s word, we tell you that we who are still alive, who are left until
the coming of the Lord, will certainly not precede those who have fallen
asleep. <sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">16 </span></sup>For the Lord himself will come down from heaven,
with a loud command, with the voice of the archangel and with the trumpet call
of God, and the dead in Christ will rise first. <sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">17 </span></sup>After that,
we who are still alive and are left will be caught up together with them in the
clouds to meet the Lord in the air. And so we will be with the Lord forever. <sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">18 </span></sup>Therefore
encourage one another with these words.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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