Rain Promises

The sun is shining but it is storming rain in my heart and mind.

It is a beautiful, ugly day.

I read about rain and colors then hear her crying softly, slurred mumbled words begging for some help, any help.

Mom and I change her, try to reposition her, gently raise her head.

I want to give her water but I know she can't drink it. I want to hold her hand but don't want to move her for fear of hurting her more. I pray that God would give me some of her pain, let me help in some way, let me do something. Please.

I don't want to leave her, but I also want to run away from this place. My mind threatens a madness born from helplessness, I am splintered and rough to other family members I interact with. I don't mean to be, want to be... I'm just trying to sort this out.

I do not pretend to understand His timing. I do not know why He so often asks us to wait. To wait patiently, even.

But I know that He is good. I know that He loves her more deeply than I ever could.

I look for Beauty because He has overcome the ugly of this world. He is not far off. He is near. He hears our cries.

There is a color spectrum I can not see with these dim, mortal eyes. I could not bear His brilliance. I can not see Him face to face now, someday I will, but not now. I cover my eyes and sob. I feel like a poor reflection of Him, a wet mess.

The Son stands behind me, embraces me, and through tear drops, His Light paints an arch of hues across my heart. Isn't this how rainbows are made? How His promise is seen, remembered? The Son together with the rain? Isn't this when we see the breathtaking colors of His beauty?

For a rainbow to be seen, the sun must be behind an observer who is facing falling rain.

I face the rain, and remember His promises.

"But as for me, I will always have hope; I will praise you more and more. My mouth will tell of your righteousness, of your salvation all day long, though I know not its measure."

~Psalm 71:14-15

"Great is the LORD and most worthy of praise; his greatness no one can fathom... The LORD is faithful to all his promises and loving toward all he has made. The LORD upholds all those who fall and lifts up all who are bowed down. The eyes of all look to you, and you give them their food at the proper time. You open your hand and satisfy the desires of every living thing.The LORD is righteous in all his ways and loving toward all he has made."

~Psalm 145:3,13-17

Little Light of Mine

"Be at rest once more, O my soul, for the LORD has been good to you."

~Psalm 116:7

Photo Credit: my amazingly talented sister, Aleya Duncan

Where is Jesus in this Suffering?

Finally, both children were asleep. Peace on their faces. No more needs, wants, questions to force myself to focus on and answer.

It swelled within me until at last I kneeled next to Selah's bed, clinging to the sturdy frame built by her loving Daddy. Forehead on hands, I silently bawled my eyes out in prayer.

Prayer to be a better mother. Prayer to be a better wife, daughter, person... Prayer about things in life I can't control.

A rushing, raging stream of confession of my neediness of Him. A fresh realization of the utter fragility and mortality of this life, these bodies.

How can I redeem these days of suffering?

Something in my spirit couldn't bear the weight anymore. The weight of all the suffering in this house. The suffering of my sweet Grandmom who struggles even to drink. The suffering of her children and my mother doing all they can, feeling it isn't enough....

So much of it is silent. It is a raw silence.

I feel it, see it.

I have never lived with someone who was suffering like this... dying... before. I have always known death at a distance. Even though my Grandpa stayed with us much of time before he passed, it wasn't like this. The shadow of death holds a whole new meaning for me now.

Oh loving Father, ease this suffering that squeezes breath and smiles from this home.

I try to bring the Baby to say hello to Grandmom often. She loves seeing Alexa, one of her five great-grandbabies. Something about cute, chubby trouble that can't help but make you smile. But the smiles are mostly only mouth, not quite making it to her eyes.

My mom, her main care-taker, bears the most of it I think. She is always thinking, researching, trying new ways to ease Grandmom's pain. She often told me before(and after) labor with my children that she wished she could go through it rather than me. She said she would rather be the one in pain than seeing someone she loved suffer, that that was harder for her, not being able to alleviate the pain. As a woman who has had nine home-births, she doesn't underestimate the pain, she just loves so deeply she'd gladly be the one to bear it.

She reminds me of Jesus in that way. She has been reminding me of Jesus a lot lately.

The other day she was gently kneeling in front of Grandmom, patiently dressing her. She loves her, one of her own in the world, and she has been showing the full extent of her love. She was the hands of Jesus Who washes feet. And I saw Him there so strong in the midst of weakness. He whose feet she was washing. One of the precious sick, thirsty, hungry, helpless least of these. Jesus. In both, with both, Emmanuel.

It was a scene I'll not soon forget.

And in all this suffering, my blindness was crushed.

He is both the humble, willing Servant and the One served.

He is here, so very present in this suffering. The beautiful fragrance of His love overpowers the shadow of death. His strength sustains them both.

Sustains us all. All the time. He himself gives all men life and breath and everything else. Why do I regularly forget this and fall into narcissistic blindness?

This suffering crushes pride.

It crushes the walls around my expression of love for Grandmom, for other family members... for mom.

I really hugged mom for the first time in a long time last night. I didn't realize it had been so long until afterward.

It crushes all the facades of my questions, and exposes what is really in my heart.

It crushes unwillingness to ask for help.

It crushes half-hearted prayer.

It crushes so much that I am unaware of that is self-separation from Him.

But He never separates from us.

No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us.

For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons,

neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth,

nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God

that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

~Romans 8:37-39

Therefore, since Christ suffered in his body, arm yourselves also with the same attitude, because he who has suffered in his body is done with sin. As a result, he does not live the rest of his earthly life for evil human desires, but rather for the will of God.

Humble yourselves, therefore, under God’s mighty hand, that he may lift you up in due time. Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you.

Be self-controlled and alert. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour. Resist him, standing firm in the faith, because you know that your brothers throughout the world are undergoing the same kind of sufferings.

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. To him be the power for ever and ever. Amen.

~1 Peter 4:1-2, 1 Peter 5:6-11

Selah

She holds the tiny baby wrapped in soft pink felt and asks to hear to the story again. How her story began.

How do I tell her I almost killed her?

How can I explain why I didn't?

I wrap my arms around her and pull her close. My five year old bundle of joy and life that almost wasn't.

I can't say I already had the appointment scheduled at the same place I had paid for her sibling to be aborted the year before.

I can't say I did drugs to try to make myself go through with it.

I can't say I tried to commit suicide and longed for my own death before ending the life of (another) baby growing inside me.

We snuggle and she wriggles with excitement. She stares, stares, stares at the baby doll in her palm.

"Well..." I breath in deep, those memories, those years. I feel the pain throbbing behind my scarred heart.

"But this is a joyful story" He whispers. I take His offered hand, we walk back to that dominion of darkness that He rescued me from together. His light keeps me from being overwhelmed.

She needs to know He alone can rescue. She needs to hear this story. He knew it would be her story.

She tries to wait patiently for the few moments it takes me begin. She grins from ear to ear and covers her hand with her mouth to try to hide her overflowing excitement. She is about to burst with joy.

I try not to burst into tears.

I smile into her glowing face "I love you so much!"

She wriggles closer, waiting. Hand over grin.

"Well... this baby doll reminds me of what God did in my life through you."

She can barely take it. I'm not talking fast enough for her. But my mind is rushing and my tongue is thick and slow and I have to take every thought captive and stay here and not go back there and remember that I am a new creation in Him.

Him.

My history is His story. Not mine. He is the Main Character. It is His Story Box.

I can continue now. "... Before I had you, I didn't love or follow God." My tender eyes meet her wide ones. Her face says: does mom really mean that? Could that be true?

"... I did a lot of really bad things. But Jesus still loved me. He loved me so much, He gave me you..."

I had begged God to show me His realness. To stop me from destroying myself and every good thing that came my way. To hold me. To love me. Selah is the first good thing that survived me in a long time. He answered my prayers, but in a way I did not expect.

O LORD, the king rejoices in your strength.

How great is his joy in the victories you give!

You have granted him the desire of his heart

and have not withheld the request of his lips.

Selah

You welcomed him with rich blessings

and placed a crown of pure gold on his head.

He asked you for life, and you gave it to him—

length of days, for ever and ever.

Psalm 21:1-4

She smiles unashamedly. She knows that of course she is a blessing. I have said it a thousand times.

"... God taught me all about love through you. He changed my life, and your Daddy's life, and lots of people in the family, and He helped save other peoples lives through you like Connor and Iliana..."

The names of my god-children bring a fresh wave of smiles. They are her dear friends. God saved them from a similar fate.

"...God has very, very special plans for you!"

She holds the baby. I hold mine, growing into a young woman, babyness long left behind. My arms overflow with His reward. We smile.

This is His story. He rescues. He redeems. He rewards. He loves. Oh, how He loves.

Praise the LORD, O my soul;

all my inmost being, praise his holy name.

Praise the LORD, O my soul,

and forget not all his benefits—

who forgives all your sins

and heals all your diseases,

who redeems your life from the pit

and crowns you with love and compassion,

who satisfies your desires with good things

so that your youth is renewed like the eagle’s.

~Psalm 103:1-5

Counting thanks today... overwhelmed by Grace...

#58 Selah

#59 That He forgives all my sins

#60 That He heals all my diseases

#61 That He redeemed my life from the pit

#62 That He crowned me with love and compassion

#63 That He satisfies my desires with good things

#64 That He would reward me after all I've done

#65 That He never leaves me or forsakes me

#66 That He remembers that I am dust

#67 That He promises His righteousness not only to my children, but also to their children

#68 second chances

#69 That He can create a new person out of an old one

#70 He makes beautiful things out of the dust

#71 That one lost lamb is worth His time

#72 He brings me home

Definitions from Proverbs: Part 2- Fool or Wise?

Here is Part 2!

If you read over these descriptions(or those in Part 1) and find yourself lacking in wisdom, don't be discouraged!

"If any of you lacks wisdom, he should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to him."

~James 1:5

~Chapter 17~

vs. 12 Better to meet a bear robbed of her cubs than a fool in his folly.

vs. 24 A discerning man keeps wisdom in view, but a fool's eyes wander to the ends of the earth.

vs. 25 A foolish son brings grief to his father and bitterness to the one who bore him.

vs. 28 Even a fool is thought wise if he keeps silent, and discerning if he holds his tongue.

~Chapter 18~

vs. 2 A fool finds no pleasure in understanding but delights in airing his own opinions.

vs. 6 A fool's lips bring him strife, and his mouth invites a beating.

vs. 7 A fool's mouth is his undoing, and his lips are a snare to his soul.

vs. 13 He who answers before listening-that is his folly and his shame.

vs. 15 The heart of the discerning aquires knowledge; the ears of the wise seek it out.

~Chapter 20~

vs. 1 Wine is a mocker and beer a brawler; whoever is led astray by them is not wise.

vs. 3 It is to a man's honor to avoid strife, but every fool is quick to quarrel.

~Chapter 21~

vs. 11 When a wise man is instructed, he gets knowledge.

vs. 20 In the house of the wise are stores of choice foods and oil, but a foolish man devours all he has.

vs. 22 A wise man attacks the city of the mighty and pulls down the stronghold in which they trust.

~Chapter 23~

vs. 9 A fool... will scorn the wisdom of your words.

vs. 19-21 Listen, my son, and be wise, and keep your heart to the right path. Do not join those who drink too much wine or gorge themselves on meat, for drunkards and gluttons become poor, and drowsiness clothes them in rags.

~Chapter 24~

vs. 5-6 A wise man has great power, and a man of knowledge increases strength; for waging war you need guidance, and for victory many advisors.

~Chapter 26~

vs. 7 Like a lame man's legs that hang limp is a proverb in the mouth of a fool.

vs. 8 Like tying a stone in a sling is the giving of honor to a fool.

vs. 9 Like a thornbush in a drunkards hand is a proverb in the mouth of a fool.

vs. 11 As a dog returns to its vomit, so a fool repeats his folly.

~Chapter 27~

vs. 22 Though you grind a fool in a mortar, grinding him like grain with a pestle, you will not remove his folly from him.

~Chapter 28~

vs. 26 He who trusts in himself is a fool, but he who walks in wisdom is kept safe.

~Chapter 29~

vs. 8 ... Wise men turn away anger.

vs. 11 A fool gives full vent to his anger, but a wise man keeps himself under control.

vs. 20 Do you see a man who speaks in haste? There is more hope for a fool than for him.

~Chapter 30~

vs. 32 If you have played the fool and exalted yourself, or if you have planned evil, clap your hand over your mouth!

Again I encourage you!:

"If any of you lacks wisdom, he should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to him."

~James 1:5

How to get from A to Z

Today I've been going through boxes that had long been tucked away in the attic. We will be ready to move to our new town home before too long and I am in the process of minimizing.

It's amazing how much can cling to you, I think things grow when I'm not looking.

And there I found them, sitting quietly in notebooks in the bottom of clear storage boxes. Some may call them poems. They were my screams. My nightmares. My loneliness from my highschool years. It hurts in places I didn't even know I still had.

Why do those memories still hurt after all this time? They hurt for different reasons now. I hurt for hurting Him. My family. For having such a bad memory and so little empathy for those who are in a similar place now.

Not being close to Christ is hell.

I have to take every thought captive to Christ, and leave them at His feet.

I read on and am amazed at what I thought about, wrote about... my immaturity. And my recognition of it, and my admitted unwillingness to change.

I turn page after page, a train wreck I can't look away from. Some things are worth remembering and keeping as a gentle reminder of things past, some hold no eternal value, would not benefit anyone in any way. I recycle a lot of it.

I definitely don't think the same way any more. He has transformed me by renewing my mind. Hallelujah, thank you Jesus.

It's like reading about a completely different person. But yet, this pain confirms that once upon a time that person was me.

How did I get from A to Z?

I read from 8 years ago. I was 17. I wonder...Was this from before or after the date rape situation?... The month and day aren't dated. I don't know. I don't know that it would make a difference... I was lost and messed up completely by my own doing, long before that night ever happened.

I had given it the title: Still Here.

Still Here

My sin blinds me of Your presence.

My heart turns from You.

You kneel with outstretched arms,

And I back away.

My spirit cries for our hearts to be one again,

But my flesh resists Your touch.

My pride breaks for an instant,

I weakly raise a hand

That so often dishonors

In an attempt to honor You.

Before I can withdraw my hand

You reach down

and entwine

Your fingers with mine.

Your essence showers kisses on my face.

Holding my hand you whisper

"I am still here."

I didn't turn back at that time. I didn't surrender myself to Him for another 3 years. I was afraid to get to know Him. I knew that meant real changes for me, and I didn't like His rules. I did not trust Who I did not know.

So how did I get from A to Z?

When all my other attempts failed, all doors slammed in my face, all paths proved to be dead ends... I trusted Him with B.

I let Him lead me for one step in the direction He said I needed to go.

That thing that He kept bringing to my mind, holding out His hand an asking me to give to Him... I finally did. I finally unclenched my fist.

With my hand open, He gently took mine, and lead me one more step to C.

One issue at a time. Always the question: would I trust that He knew best? That He wanted the best for me?

It was not a quick process. And it was painful. He is the God of true comfort, not of comfortable.

After tears, and prayers, and years, with His word etched into my mind, hidden in my heart and on the tip of my tongue I finally realized it. We were there. Z.

All of me belonged to all of Him.

Not in a perfect, pretty package with a bow all neatly tied. But given from a child to a Father who delighted in the best gift the child could give.

He knows I am not perfect. "Z" doesn't mean I have it all together.

"Z" means all of me willingly, gratefully belongs to Him.

A lot has changed. I pray and have great joy in the knowledge that He faithfully continues to change me. But something has remained consistent through all these years. He whispers it even now...

"I am still here."

The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases.

I remember my affliction and my wandering,

the bitterness and the gall.

I well remember them,

and my soul is downcast within me.

Yet this I call to mind

and therefore I have hope:

Because of the LORD's great love we are not consumed,

for his compassions never fail.

They are new every morning;

great is your faithfulness.

~Lamentations 3:19-23

He is Beautiful, That is Enough.

I feel like I've been walking around all day with a back pack full of bricks. I hurt. Many levels. Weighed down. Many questions, not a lot of answers.

I don't have a lot of words worth sharing today.

Even so, giving thanks today because He is beautiful in the midst of ugly...

#47 First day that felt like fall

#48 delighting in the discovery of different types of mushrooms in the backyard with Selah

#49 Baby wearing the outfit that was made by my Grandmom for my now 16 year-old sister, that making Grandmom smile

#50 learning to crochet

#51 little sisters that teach me how to be a better big one

#52 text love from friends

#53 that God doesn't remove me from the fire until the dross is drawn out

#54 He holds me so gently

#55 He restores my soul

#56 He is my light, my strength, my song

#57 He is a Word worth sharing... that He would grace me with Himself to share. To have. Wonder upon wonder.

I love you, O LORD, my strength.

My Jesus Story Box

She clutches it close, grins wide and bright eyed.

"And then what happens??" She is riveted, giggling in anticipation.

I tell her these tales again and again, she never tires of these stories. But she wants to know, needs to know, to double-check just one more time: " did this happen in real life?"

Yes, my sweet darling, these stories are true. 

These are my Jesus stories. These are my stones of remembrance. I keep them in a simple photo box, with His words reminding me what stones are and are not meant for, reminding me to remember.

I can forget so easily.

I don't want to.

So often I have heard and read of stories of amazing things God has done... but I rarely personally know the individual who actually had the experience of God's direction, protection, intervention, vision, or miracle in their life. I have privately asked the question "did this happen in real life?"

Last spring I co-led a women's small group at my church through Believing God by Beth Moore. In one section Beth encourages the reader to write down a timeline of notable things God has done in your life, personal stones of remembrance. This was very helpful to me in many ways. It helped me recall and recognize God's beautiful orchestration in my life. But because I am (at least) as forgetful as the Old-Testament Israelites, I wanted some 3-D reminders of God glorious works in my life. Something I would see to draw me to His feet in praise "Here I raise my Ebenezer, hither by Thy help I'm come..."

I actually considered stacking up huge stones. Well, having someone with muscles stack them for me, I'm not exactly known for upper body strength.

But that idea didn't seem very Baby friendly. My 11 month old is nicknamed "baby godzilla" by her adoring and ever-so-patient older sister. The description is quite accurate. I wanted to avoid a miniature Samson episode, so other options had to be explored.

In my experience all children share a certain trait, regardless of personality. Curiosity. When God commanded the Israelites to set up stones as a reminder of the awesome miracle He had just done by cutting off the flow of the river Jordan so they could cross over on dry land, I think God intended the stones to spark the natural curiosity of the Israelite children. I have chosen items in My Jesus Story Box specifically to inspire my children to ask "what do these stones mean?".

True, some things that are exposed about me in these stories are not glamorous. In fact, they are down right hideous. But He is the Main Character of these stories, I am not. And He is beautiful all the time. He is the only reason why all the stories have happy endings. I want my children to know Him more that I want to hide my weaknesses. I want them to know He is alive and active and involved in every person's life. Even mine. Even theirs. He is the same miraculous God of old, the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.

Right now I tell Selah the 5 year-old appropriate versions of these stories, the depth of the stories will grow as she does. But I pray the Truth about God will be the common thread she holds onto from now into adulthood.

Selah also has her own story box with a couple of stones of remembrance. She loves it so much, she is actively looking for Jesus' work in her life so she can add to her box. "He loves us so much, mom! " she says. "He must have done that so we could have this story in our box!...".

I believe we are hard-wired to love stories. We are part of one, and each one of us has a part that the One and Only considered worth His very life.

What would happen if we all shared our stories, His stories, with one another? Might you consider starting your own Jesus Story Box? A place for tangible pieces of evidence of God's hand in your life? We can each witness to what we know of Him, and pass on and recall His faithfulness to our oh-so-forgetful hearts.

God spoke this to me back in April, and it has been on my heart ever since: "Stones, are also for building."

What if? What if we all built up a wall together instead of stoning each other? What if we as believers all lined up our stones of remembrance that God has given us? What God has done for us should be shouted from the mountaintops! His mercy, goodness, and work in our lives is the proper lens to view ourselves, and others, and God through. With such a massive wall of God's faithfulness surrounding us how could we struggle with faithlessness? With our forgiven sins and evidence of our redemption reaching up to the sky how could we struggle with judgement? Would not the love that completely surrounds us force our lips open in praise to Him?

"I tell you," he replied," if they keep quiet, the stones will cry out."

Luke 19:40

Let us build together!

"The God of heaven will give us success. We his servants will start rebuilding"

~Nehemiah 2:20

I look forward to sharing my stories with you in the upcoming days and weeks... and I hope to hear some of yours!

Glorify the LORD with me! Let us exalt His name together!

Clay Jars and Kittens

Her cloudy eyes gaze at me, past me, lips try to curl into a smile. The smile is more a thought than actuality and even that seems to drain precious energy. She is far away from here. Here hurts so much.

It hurts her whose heart has always been to help others. Her whose strong arms had held so many babies, two of her own, twelve grandchildren, four great-grandchildren and countless others. Now I hold this glass for her, half filled with water and too heavy for her skeletal hand to steady. She sips from the straw. She thanks me, thanks me, thanks me.

I sit by her side and wish I had sat there more. I listen to her stories and feelings and thoughts and wish I had listened more. I make an unspoken commitment to sit and still more, listen more.

She has told me she is looking forward to what is ahead of her.

She is a shell of the Grandmom I've known. She is dying.

It hits me full in the face. Death is an ugly thing, an enemy. One that I am usually far-removed from. There are so many things I do not understand. His thoughts are not my thoughts and His ways are not my ways, they are too high for me.

I think she will see the face of Jesus soon. I wonder how I can help her to go out with joy and be lead forth in peace...

I bring her our newborn kittens. She loves kittens. All animals, really. Anything she can love on, really.

I fill her bed full with all five of them, and mama cat has to join in every so often to make sure they are all right.

Evidence of our God who loves newness, loves soft things, created the peaceful purr we enjoy. I take pictures and show her so she can see them better, more closely.

Grandmom smiles. It's a fleeting smile on her face, but lingers in her eyes. Her hands gently sweep over the soft fluff that is crawling all over her.

She jokes "if I had know we were gonna have a photo session I'd have brushed my hair...".

I smile back and look her full in those blue eyes, a couple generations older and a few shades lighter than mine "oh Grandmom, you are beautiful!!"

Her shell can not hide her real beauty, the Him in her. We are all shells.

"You don't have a soul. You are a soul. You have a body."

~C.S. Lewis

She is a beautiful clay jar that has stored up and poured out His glory in her life.

"We are all tired and gonna take a nap now" she says. They rest.

I am giving thanks today not because I feel like it, but because He is so worthy of all honor and glory and praise at all times.

I believe, therefore I speak...

Giving thanks today for clay jars, other temporary things, and the unseen eternal glory that far outweighs them all...

#25 A Mom, Dad, Aunt who model pure religion by taking care of a widow in her distress

#26 Straws

#27 Four generations living in the same home

#28 Ibuprofen and sportarub salve

#29 Gray hair that is a crown of glory, attained by living a godly life

#30 Today with Grandmom

#31 Today with my girls, husband, family

#32 kittens and a sweet, patient mama cat

#33 wheelchairs

#34 that He knows I am a child, that I do not understand, and He never tires of my questions

#35 Knowing Him, real eternal life

"For God, who said, “Let light shine out of darkness,” made his light shine in our hearts to give us the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ.

But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body. For we who are alive are always being given over to death for Jesus’ sake, so that his life may be revealed in our mortal body. So then, death is at work in us, but life is at work in you.

It is written: “I believed; therefore I have spoken.” With that same spirit of faith we also believe and therefore speak, because we know that the one who raised the Lord Jesus from the dead will also raise us with Jesus and present us with you in his presence. All this is for your benefit, so that the grace that is reaching more and more people may cause thanksgiving to overflow to the glory of God.

Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal."

~2 Corinthians 6:4-18