PLEASE REMIND ME

It is a New Year unlike any other for me, in that I find a sense of dread attached. Normally I am excited for the fresh start, motivated by some new theme for the upcoming year, and happy to be moving forward. It's just...different this time.

We were well into December before I even considered the need to pray into a new word for 2019. As 2018 draws to a close, I see where the word "Refresh" has held true. I have made great strides in pausing to breathe deep before reacting, in asking for new perspective, and in taking time for soul food. A trip to the East Coast eased my inner ache for the ocean, and year-end feedback restored the confidence and passion in my career. 

In many ways, I have much to be excited about - both this year and in years to come. The birth of our first grandchild inspired me to continue the search for a weight loss program that works. There are proposals, home purchases and more grandbabies ahead. One might say we're just getting started!

Still, there's this dread: a deep, if unexplainble, knowledge that the coming year will hold significant challenges. I am at a bit of a loss to explain my confidence in choosing the word "Freedom" for the year ahead. Suffice it to say that I hear God's voice primarily through repetition, and that has been evident in the choosing and confirmation of this theme. Perhaps the dread stems from the knowledge that freedom means leaving something behind; I am terrified to find out what the "something" might be.

This brings me to my request:

If at any point in the days/weeks/months to come you sense that I am struggling, please remind me. Remind me of my deep and abiding faith, confirmed as recently as this morning after a conversation with a dear elder in our church. After I confided my feelings on the coming year, the opening prayer gave thanks for God's presence in our trials as well as our celebrations. 

Remind me of my commitment to see every day as an adventure with Jesus, and my belief that nothing surprises Him. Remind me that freedom never comes without cost - but it is a prize worth pursuing. Remind me that I am a survivor, and that my creed continues to be Philippians 4:13 - "I can do all things through Christ, Who gives me strength." Remind me that nothing we live through is ever wasted: it either makes us better personally, or gives us a means to help others. 

Onward, then, to the New Year. To freedom. Thank you for traveling with me.

P.S. This photo just "randomly" showed up in my social media feed. 😏

WHO IS HE TO YOU?

"Who do you say that I am?" ~ Matthew 16:15

The question is nearly as old as time: who is God to you? Is He your emergency backup when things are going wrong? Is He your once-in-a-lifetime, couldn't-live-without-Him love? Is He your personal Santa Claus, granting success in busines and relationships, and any other number of wishes?

As I was getting dressed last Monday morning, I was thinking about Christmas. It is a time of year when much energy is devoted to talking about the reason for the celebration, and documentaries discuss who Jesus was/is. Because my husband loves these documentaries, I was disturbed to learn that the latest theory paints Jesus as an alien.

I thought of all the people in Bible times who questioned: Is he a prophet? Is he a madman? Is He a Great Teacher? Who is He? 

And all they needed to know was His name: Emmanuel. God with us. 

You see, when Hagar was running from Sarai, He was El-Roi, the God who sees me. When Elijah was under a tree being fed by ravens, He was Jehovah-Jireh, my Provider. When David was running from Saul, He was El Elohim, my strong Protector. 

And all of these are summed up in one name: Emmanuel. 

God was with Israel in battle. 

God was with Hagar in isolation. 

God was with David in danger. 

God was with Elijah in desperation. 

God is with us. In joy and in grief. And when they mix. 

Jesus didn't come to be the perfect baby in the manger. He came to get dirty; to experience scraped knees and a bruised heart. He came to experience loneliness and shattered friendships, and even loss through death. He came to know the spotlight, the applause, and the silence: to experience the hillside crowds and the Garden solitude.

Is it so hard to believe that He came to be with us? Is it really easier to think of Him as an alien than as our self-sacrificial Friend? Do we believe that we are too difficult, our lives too messy, to be loved by the Redeemer?

Oh, but that's why I adore Him! He does redeem us -- and our mess! Still, right in the middle of the corporate success, interpersonal disasters, loss and discontent - He walks with us. He waits only to be acknowledges and invited. 

Immanuel: God with us. 

Blessings to you, my friend. I pray your Christmas holds the peace that only comes from knowing Him.

PEACE BE STILL

Today has been one of those days. You know the ones: where the date on the calendar tells you it will be a struggle. Where emotions run high and patience runs low.

On this day in 1999, a baby girl was born. Through some display of grace I could never have earned, I became a second home to her and her brother. No sweeter sound was ever heard than the word "Mommy" from a child; perhaps even more true when they weren't originally your assignment in life. 

After 6 years together, Baby Girl was forcefully separated from our home. For the 4 years that followed, I wept and prayed and loved like mad. I attended therapy and made visits together special and sent her to her 3rd mother figure's home with physical reminders of her family and how much she meant to us. And in the end, it was still the end.

Fast forward 12 years. My Dad was placed in a nursing home 10 days ago. My mother neglected to tell his only sister. Just as I'm fuming about the level of ignorance, my mother messages to say she's puking in the bushes outside the nursing home because she knows Dad is inside crying. And today, my baby girl is turning 19 and planning for her graduation prom in the spring. Add last night's discovery that the relationship I have been rebuilding for 8 months has been a one-sided effort.

Lord, please walk through this day with me. I am going to need Your strength today. And wisdom, Father. Please show me when to stand firm and when to give grace. I have the distinct feeling that small things could otherwise become battlegrounds today. 

Thank You, Father. For knowing my heart. And for loving me, even through the lessons You are teaching me.

Dare I admit that I'm scared? Frightened, actually, by all the unknowns of the future.

My Dad is pretty determined to die by the time he's 70. His 69th birthday is only a month away. What if I never see him again? Have I said everything? What will I regret? And why does the time before the inevitable ending not feel like a gift?

Baby Girl is 19; high school graduation is all that stands between her and freedom. Will she come to us, even if only for a visit? What do we say? How do we counter all the lies we know she's been told? On the other hand...what if she doesn't come or call? What if the damage to our family is permanent?

Thank You, Heavenly Father, that You are Lord of the unknown. Your thoughts and Your ways are a mystery to me - but I trust Your heart. I choose to believe that the plans You have for me are good.

What was it the minister spoke on Sunday? "Peace is active," he had said. And suddenly, the words "Peace be still" had taken on new meaning in my heart. It was as though I heard Jesus speaking to peace - instructing peace to be still. To settle over me. To soothe my heart. "Peace! Be still! Peace! Be still. Peace! Be. still." 

How quickly we forget! A powerful word is dropped into my spirit on Sunday, but by Tuesday I am depending on my own strength again. I was never made to handle these days alone; my strength, like ocean tides, ebbs and flows. I need a Rock.

"From the end of the Earth will I cry to You, when my heart is overwhelmed; Lead me to the Rock that is higher than I." ~ Psalm 61:2

Peace like a river. Peace like a flood. Peace that passes understanding. No change of circumstance required - only my stance. Kneel, arms extended, palms turned upward. Regardless of who I lose or gain in the days to come, my Heavenly Father holds my heart. His hands are the only safe place.

"You will keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on You, because he trusts in You." ~ Isaiah 26:3

I have made it through this day. I am going to lay down my head and sleep. In peace. God is alive, awake, and on guard. Nothing surprises Him - what have I to fear?!