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?!

The Lull

Lull. The very word is soothing, isn't it? And I love its association with stillness or respite. It conjures up an image in my mind of a time of refreshing, like an oasis in the desert.

It has been slow in my workplace this week. I commented to my direct supervisor today that we are either experiencing the proverbial calm before the storm, or I have missed something really big! His words were so reassuring: "It's the calm. Enjoy the lull."

What does this look like in the office? For me, it looks like arriving before the lights have been turned on and brewing the coffee. I pull a stack of coffee filters so it's easy for people to grab one at a time, and spend some time with my Bible while my e-mails load. I invite Jesus to walk through this day with me. Slow, easy starts to days that are steady, but not driving busy.

The busy days are coming. In a matter of weeks, there will be hundreds of registrations and warranty claims demanding my attention. Phones will ring off the hook, meetings will require attendance, and my daily devotional e-mails will be buried under hundreds of messages that may appear more important. I will struggle to find my balance some days. Until then ... enjoy the lull.

Confession: I wrote the above paragraphs a week or so ago. I was going to talk about how life in general was also on pause in my world. I would have told you that my word for 2018, "Refresh," has really summed up the first two months of the year for me. Winter is a season of hibernation, but a season nonetheless; I have found myself in a season of stillness. Sometimes the most refreshing thing we can do is to rest.

Today, though, the lull is over. In speaking to God aloud a couple of weeks ago, I thanked Him for the pause. I recognized my tendency to worry so much about what's coming next that I neglect to enjoy the moment. I apologized, and praised God for the fact that no matter what's coming, I do not face it alone. Then came the storm - both physically and virtually.

We had known the snowstorm was coming. It was a rare weekend where no travel was required, so I took full advantage of the opportunity to spend a whole Saturday in my pajamas with a book. It's easy not to worry about impressions when nobody is moving. A good storm can be anticipated in this part of the country, where you are required to drive for everything except your mail. Snowplows are a commodity reserved for parts further north, so a good storm can halt traffic for days at a time here.

Saturday, though, came and went without a single flake falling. Sunday morning arrived with light drizzle, but salt trucks were already on the highway as I drove to church. By the time I headed home, the commute was a challenge best met by restrained speed and whispered prayers. Still, it was early evening when the skies opened and the house across the street from ours seemingly disappeared.

Internally, I made no connection of how fitting it would be for physical and emotional storms to collide. So it was that I was blindsided. First by the letter in the mailbox, dated an entire year ago. Then by the letter in a social media inbox, advising me to have my Goodbye talk with my dad. Then by the discovery of a social media account under an alias name, belonging to someone who once meant everything to me. It has called me to question everything I thought I knew, and has cast a huge question mark over the future.

I am so grateful for the peace that passes all understanding! I am grateful that no matter what happens in coming days, I do not face this storm alone. Mostly, I am grateful for the lull. There is always a time of rest: a time to gather and restore strength. I will need another one when this time of turbulence has passed; how grateful I am to know that God's vision and His plans for me far exceed my own!

How blessed I am to have spent my time in the hallway, the lull, praising Him! This, too, shall pass. It's just another test becoming a testimony.