Love

Rewiring …

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This blog has been silent for some time now.  I am still here in my little corner of the world and, every once in a awhile, I do open up the blog page, type some words, and then give up.  It simply has not been a season for writing.

It has been a season of difficulty.

It has been a season of transforming growth.

It has a season of walking through various storms.

It has been, and continues to be, a season of developing the discipline of obedience.

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I have mentioned a number of times in the course of writing and sharing my thoughts, that I am prone to being a fearful, anxious sort of person.  I have also shared the lessons the Lord has taught me on this life’s journey as I have battled these tenacious foes of mine.

This isn’t a competition but it might be helpful for readers to realize that I am not speaking lightly when I say that my life is rooted in fear.  It has been from the get-go.  As a infant/toddler, loud noises and especially loud men would startle me into hysterics.  Social fears thrived before I even knew what fear was.  I searched for safety wherever I could find even the vaguest hint of it and when it eluded me, I shut down inside.  Life as a teenager, navigating the public school setting, while being a part of an ultra-conservative, legalistic church, and growing up in a family where there certainly was love, but also much brokenness and grief, was challenging for a frightened young person like myself.

I am now 46 years old and as I look back over the course of this lifetime, I recognize that every life decision I have ever made, has been rooted in fear.  Every decision was, in actuality, a desperate and frantic grab for security.  I have spent a lifetime seeking safety.

In light of that, it should not come as a surprise that I have long battled anxiety, depression, and intense fear for most of those years.  It should come as no surprise that my mind simply could not function in adulthood when life began to shatter beneath the weight of past experiences and expectations, the results of my poor life-decisions, and added stressors and demands, such as autism, motherhood, and isolation.

I am a believer – a child of the Living and Holy God.  He gave me a new heart when I asked Him into my life as a six year old child.

I still lived with constant fear.  I did not know anything different nor how to be different.

I have cried out to Him since I was a child and pleaded with Him to change my life …  to change the circumstances so I would not have to live in so much fear. But He never changed my life and in fact, allowed it to become considerably harder…

Because it was not my life that needed changed … it was me.

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Twelve years ago last month, we moved into our present home.  It is a rather dilapidated old farm house that sits on top of four lovely acres of land.  I love my home however, once we moved in, we began to experience a number of electrical issues.  We realized that the wiring of this house had never been updated and much of the house still functioned with an old-fashioned, fuse-style system.  It was a system that serviced the house well enough many years ago, but with the heavy demands of a modern young family, which included an autistic child who always needed the lights and television on, it had trouble keeping up.  Fuses would blow constantly, which would require a trip to the dark and creepy basement to replace.

After numerous issues and with much prompting, my husband and a family friend put in a new and updated breaker box, disconnecting that old fuse box for good.  The wiring into the new breaker box was neat, everything was labeled, and for a time, our electrical issues were a bit more quiet.

But over time, other issues began to arise.  The old wiring in the electrical outlets couldn’t handle the demand placed on them and a number of times, we would smell the wires burning inside of them.  My husband, given his natural approach to life, would simply disconnect that outlet and place electrical tape over it, as opposed to replacing and fixing the problem.   We learned the relatively ‘safe’ demands of certain outlets and which kitchen appliances could not be used at the same time and which light switches should be avoided.  In time, it became abundantly clear that while the breaker box was new, the wiring throughout the rest of the house was all old … prone to overloading and dysfunction, unable to cope with the heavy demands and stressors our modern lives have placed on it.

Frankly, my home needs to be completely rewired.

In an ideal world, we would be able to do just that, but in our reality, it simply isn’t possible.  However, over the years, as issues arise, others have stepped in and helped replace some of that old wiring.  Some things work better but there is still much to do.

So we have a new breaker box and an old wiring system that is slowly being transformed, all with the understanding that we will always been working on it.

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Are you catching where I am going with this?  Jesus gave me a new heart as a child, but because we live in a broken world, my old wiring is still in me and quite faulty.  I lived much of life reacting and responding with this faulty wiring system and, as the demands of life grew greater, that old system simply couldn’t keep up.

I did what was necessary at the time, which included medication and counseling.  But in my situation, that mostly only had the affect of disconnecting a burning outlet and covering it electrical tape.   The platitudes and mostly shallow words of a therapist sometimes provided a temporary relief, as did the comforting Bible verses I clung to and my often self-focused prayers.  Unfortunately however, none of it ever addressed the real issues … the faulty wiring hidden inside the walls I had built to protect myself so long ago.

Then I gave birth to my third child, my long-awaited daughter.  I was barely surviving as I pushed through those days with the heavy demands of a four year old autistic son who never slept, an 18 month old son, and a newborn daughter.  I did not have help and honestly, I can’t even remember those days.  I was ‘surviving’ but the fragile infrastructure inside of me was imploding.  The old wiring and my old way of thinking and responding to life was destroying me from the inside out.

Then the One who had sacrificed His life so that I could have a new heart and a new life stepped in once more and over the course of the last ten or so years, I have been in a rewiring process.  As issues arise, the Lord — and certain people He placed in my life — have been quietly and behind the scenes, walking me through learning to recognize the faulty systems and then guiding me to seek and obey His expertise and wisdom.  The Lord has often replaced my old wiring with His wiring … changing the way I perceive situations in life and how I respond.  It has been a long, slow, and often painful process … but it is the process necessary to be transformed.  This is what the Apostle Paul writes of in Romans 12: 1,2 …

“Therefore, I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy,
to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God—
this is your true and proper worship.
Do not conform to the pattern of this world,
but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.
Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—
his good, pleasing and perfect will.”

 

This is what the Christian journey is about.  It absolutely has been the very definition of my journey … being transformed for the glory of God, as I am called to die to self and my old wiring, and then coming alive and changed in Him and by His grace alone.

 “I have been crucified with Christ; and it is no longer I who live,
but Christ lives in me;
and the life which I now live in the flesh I live
by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself up for me.”
Galatians 2:20

 

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This is why I have been silent lately.  The rewiring process over these last months has been especially intense and increasingly difficult.  I have had to face and deal with certain situations that were reaching crisis level because I have avoided them for so long.  I have had to confront others and I have had to confess and repent of my own hidden bitterness.  Each day I have been facing what appear to me to be insurmountable tasks and challenges … and in each of these, I am learning to be obedient to the Lord.  I simply do the next thing and trust Him to provide and handle the rest.

I am coming to trust completely in the faithfulness of the Holy God who has never allowed me to stray too far and has loved me beyond my comprehension.

Do I still feel fear?  Absolutely.  Fear is my ‘thorn in the flesh‘,  but what I am learning now is that it teaches me a humble reliance on my Savior.  Instead of responding to it with my own instincts, He is teaching me to trust Him in my weakness and to be responsible for my responses.  If I need some support, I seek it out, whether it be Godly counsel or something else.  More than anything however, I am finding strength, help, and encouragement from the Lord and often challenging words from Scripture such as these from the Apostle Paul in 2 Corinthians 12:7-10 …

“Because of the surpassing greatness of the revelations, for this reason, to keep me from exalting myself, there was given me a thorn in the flesh, a messenger of Satan to torment me—to keep me from exalting myself! Concerning this I implored the Lord three times that it might leave me. And He has said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is perfected in weakness.” Most gladly, therefore, I will rather boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me. Therefore I am well content with weaknesses, with insults, with distresses, with persecutions, with difficulties, for Christ’s sake; for when I am weak, then I am strong.”

 

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Speaking of fear in this manner is hard … much more so than I can express in this present season of life.  But more than anything, I desire to honor this amazing, gracious, and loving God who sustains me through every day and I long for others to see and know His transforming love as well.  So therefore, I will boast of my weakness so that the power of Christ may dwell in me … 

 

**As you read these words, consider that this is only a dusting, a very topical writing, of my personal journey.  There is so much more that simply doesn’t fit in a blog post.  Our journeys and our stories will be different, but maybe you’ll find something worth gleaning within these words.  If nothing else, I hope I have pointed you towards God … the only One who can change and transform broken lives, creating His beauty from our ashes.**

His Mercies are New Every Morning

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Guilt.

There is an appropriate time and place for guilt.  When we have done wrong, that sense of guilt can be God-given and God-honoring if we respond rightly.  If we are Christians, the Holy Spirit convicts us for the purpose of repentance, restoration, and redemption.

We repent, God forgives, we move on … it is that simple.

As far as the east is from the west,
So far has He removed our transgressions from us.
Psalm 103:12

For many of us, however, it isn’t always that simple.  Some of us walk our journeys with the weight of guilt and shame bundled in heavy sacks across our shoulders.  It impacts every step we take.  It clouds every thought.  It makes the day to day tasks even more exhausting.  It is a brutal way to live.

Sometimes people speak highly of us and while we are appreciative of the kind words, inwardly we cringe and think, ‘Oh, if they only knew.’

How often have we said or heard another woman say, ‘I should have handled that differently’ or ‘I should have made a different decision’ or ‘Maybe I should have done this instead’ or ‘If only I had …’?

How many of us build walls and hide ourselves from people around us as a result?

Probably more than we realize.

I’ve been pondering and working through these thoughts for years but more intensely over the last few weeks as I have been entrenched in an ugly battle with anxiety and fear.  The kind that awakens the old gremlins in my stomach so they start tearing me apart as though they are trying to escape.  The kind of battles that refuse to let me sleep as my brain relentlessly recounts all the times I have messed something up.  The kind that make me afraid to write because I feel like a sham.  The kind that makes me afraid to talk with people because I feel worthless.  The kind that drives me into the deepest recesses of my mind so I can hide from everything.

This is me.  This is the battle I have been fighting my entire life.

Every decision in my life has been made out of fear.  Every decision I have avoided making has been due to fear.  Literally every step in my life has been dictated by fear.

That much fear cultivates the soil perfectly for guilt seeds to thrive.

Those guilt seeds, in a sensitive-natured person like myself, quickly become an overgrown weedy patch of shame … which, in turn, triggers a whole lot more anxiety and fear.

Talk about a nasty cycle.

I have a series I’ve been contemplating writing that would highlight the lessons God is teaching me through all of this … but for today, I want to share only a few thoughts that might be useful for someone else.

Sometimes we carry guilt simply because our perspective of a situation is wrong.

Sometimes we carry guilt for sins not confessed.

Sometimes we carry guilt for sins confessed but our pride refuses to release.

Let me share a personal example as an illustration …

When my son was diagnosed with autism years ago, there were still articles and people around that blamed the mother for autism.  ‘Refrigerator Mother’ was still a relatively common term.  There were (and are) still plenty of articles and people around who will blame a mother if her child doesn’t progress well on the autism journey.

I carried guilt for years that my son’s autism was my fault.  I carried guilt for years that the severity of my son’s autism was my fault. That guilt I carried never allowed me to simply grieve the diagnosis so we could live the life we had been given.

Logically I can understand that I did not cause my son’s autism.  But the guilt I carried, compounded by my fearful/selfish nature and other difficult life circumstances, caused me to make decisions (or avoid making decisions) that may have impacted my son’s autism journey.

To carry guilt that my son has autism is foolish.  That is a guilt that was never mine to carry.

However, I am responsible for what I did after the diagnosis … and yes, I do tend to carry a lot of guilt because I know I could have handled things better.  It took years for me to learn how to be his mother and love him well.  We have grown up together in many ways.

Now, to confess poor decisions from the past before the Lord is wise and the correct thing to do.  To continually beat myself up over past poor decisions is foolish and is mostly likely a sign of pride.

Here is another example …

My attends a private autism school while I homeschool his siblings.  I used to struggle with guilt that I was sending him away even though I knew he needed the resources that a specialized school could provide and I needed those resources as well.  This was a misplaced guilt.

However, if I don’t attend meetings or implement behavioral strategies at home, then guilt would be valid.  But sending him to an environment where he can best learn and then investing that time into his siblings is not a valid occasion for guilt.

Does that make sense?

Lamentations 3 has been a source of encouragement to me on this journey and I want to share it here so these beautiful words of hope might encourage someone else.

Remember my affliction and my wandering, the wormwood and bitterness. 
Surely my soul remembers and is bowed down within me.
This I recall to my mind, therefore I have hope.
The Lord’s lovingkindnesses indeed never cease,
For His compassions never fail.
They are new every morning; Great is Your faithfulness.
“The Lord is my portion,” says my soul,“Therefore I have hope in Him.”
The Lord is good to those who wait for Him, to the person who seeks Him.
It is good that he waits silently for the salvation of the Lord.
Lamentations 3:19-26

 

It is important to spend time with the Lord concerning issues that invite a sense of guilt or shame.  Sometimes it is even helpful to talk them through with a wise and trustworthy counselor, Pastor, or friend who can share insight that we may not see.  Where there is sin to be confessed, we absolutely need to do so and then leave it at the cross.  If the sense of guilt or shame is not rooted in sin, then we need to learn to speak truth into the lies and walk freely.

It is imperative to learn how to discern between God-given guilt due to sin and our human tendency to feel of guilt/shame concerning issues that have nothing to do with sin.

However, in each and every case, we need to remember that the Lord’s lovingkindness never ceases and His mercies are new every morning.

Every day is a new opportunity to make wise decisions.

Every day is a new opportunity to do the right thing.

Every day is a new opportunity to choose not to define our lives by misplaced guilt and shame from the past but to find our identity in Christ alone.

Great is His faithfulness!

All to Jesus I Surrender?

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Many of us who grew up in more conservative churches are likely familiar with the old hymn, ‘All to Jesus I surrender‘ as it was often part of countless altar calls at the end of services.  However, even as a young person, whether I was singing along in the congregation or providing the accompaniment with the piano, I struggled with the words.  The words of this hymn are serious and intentional, which caused me to worry about singing them glibly or lightly.  I was concerned the day would come that God would challenge me with them.

He has.  Over and over.

What follows is something I wrote a number of years ago during a particularly rough season with my autistic son.  It popped up in the memories of my Facebook today and I thought I would share them here as I once again ask the Lord … Is this really how I live?

 

‘All to Jesus, I surrender, All to Him I freely give.’
But, truly God, I have to wonder,
Is this really how I live?

If I would ask the folks around me
What they see me say and do,
Would they even be able to notice,
If I’ve surrendered all to you?

And You, dear Lord,
The One who claims me for His own
You see my hidden places
You know my secret thoughts

When I sing those words so lightly
Without thought or regards to You
What do You think, my Father,
Are the words I sing even true?

I sang those words last night,
Or at least, I really tried.
But all I could see
Were the parts of me not yet crucified.

The hidden places,
The silent thoughts,
The broken dreams,
The prideful heart.

I gazed into my soul
And frankly was dismayed
For it is certainly very clear
That wholly surrendered, I am not

So, dear Lord, I think the song for me
Really needs to be
‘All to Jesus, I long to surrender
Teach me Savior to freely give’

For honestly, dear God,
I can’t do this on my own
But I know that You can change me
And make my life, your own.

 

*All to Jesus I Surrender written by Judson W. Van de Venter (1855-1939)*

He Knows My Name

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Hagar, the slave of Sarah and the mother of Abraham’s son, Ishmael, sat alone, forgotten, and rejected in a desert place, waiting for her son and then herself to die.  God heard their cries and had compassion on them.  An angel appeared to her and promised that Ishmael would live and that God would make of him a great nation.  Then he opened her eyes to a nearby well of water and the Bible tells us that God was with Ishmael as he grew.  (Genesis 21:8-21)

She was an unwanted and rejected slave … but God knew her name.

Rahab, a prostitute who lived in Jericho hid the two Hebrew spies from certain death and then helped them escape safely.  Her life and the lives of her families were saved as a result and she was included in the line of Christ. (Joshua 2:1-24)

She was a prostitute, a harlot … but God knew her name.

The poor widow was desperate as her two sons were about to be sold into slavery to cover a payment of debt.  She cried out to the Prophet Elisha for help and God used him to provide miraculous means to cover those debts.  (2 Kings 4:1-7)

She was a poor, indebted widow … but God knew her name.

The woman at the well, who came to draw her water alone because of the shame of her her broken life, was the reason Jesus needed to pass through Samaria.   Most Jewish men would not have given her a passing glance but Jesus sought her out and as a result, many from her town believed in Christ. (John 4)

She lived a broken, promiscuous life … but God knew her name.

Because God knew each of their names, their lives were forever changed.

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“Are not five sparrows sold for two cents? Yet not one of them is forgotten before God. Indeed, the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Do not fear; you are more valuable than many sparrows.”
Luke 12:6,7

 

 

 

 

He knows my name.

Such beautiful words to ponder!

He knows my name.

God, the Creator of this world and everything within it, the God of Abraham, Jacob, and Isaac, I Am …

He knows my name.

Me.  The youngest of three children.  The quietest and the least of these … He knows my name.

Me.  The one who was not the first choice, nor the second, nor the third … but rather chosen as a last resort.  Not wanted nor especially loved … He knows my name.

Me.  The one who remains most often in seclusion as a caregiver, usually in the background, relatively invisible and unseen … He knows my name.

An absolute nobody from the middle of nowhere.

He knows my name.

Because of that, my life has been forever changed too.

“O Lord You have searched me and known me!”
Psalm 139:1

 

What a amazing God is this who looks upon the ones the world often casts aside and chooses them for His own!  What a debt of gratitude I owe and how my spirit longs to live in such a way to reflect His amazing love to others.

There is no one like Him.

“There is none like You, O Lord;
You are great, and great is Your name in might.”
Jeremiah 10:6

 

 

 

 

 

Tracing His Rainbow Through the Rain

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I entered my morning of meetings somewhat cautiously, nervous about the things we would be discussing and unsure of what lies ahead for my son.

My oldest child is severely impacted with autism and he attends a private autism school almost an hour from our home.  On this particular morning, I had many questions as his teachers and I discussed the progress of this past year and the changes in store for the year(s) ahead.

My son is 18 years old and typically young people this age would have graduated high school earlier this year and would be getting ready for college, trade school, or the workforce.  But given the extent of his autism and the depth of his needs, my son will continue in his present school setting until the age of 21.

I would be lying if I told you I was completely okay with this.

I would be lying if I told you that watching his neuro-typical peers graduate high school, have beautiful senior pictures taken, attend prom, and be recognized for their achievements didn’t stir any sadness at all in me.

I would also be lying if I said I was completely unfazed by the ones presently heading off to college and new adventures.

I have been troubled, but I have hidden it.  I wouldn’t even allow myself to think about it over these last months. I told myself it was just one more milestone that is triggering a sense of grief but, because I felt guilty for the sadness and didn’t want to invite any pity, I blocked it.

Yet, on this day, as families around us were taking their children for their first year of college, I was sitting in meetings discussing medication, significant behavioral issues, basic first grade math and reading skills, another year of school, and a very uncertain (i.e. frightening/unknown) future for my eighteen year old … and I was torn.

I felt torn as my deeply hidden grief wrestled with my desire to live thankfully.  My son has been in this wonderful school for only a few years but the growth has been significant.  I know that many who are as severely affected as he, do not have this kind of support/instruction and I remember well how God had led us to this point.

I have much for which to be thankful.

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Yet, as I listened to the teachers explain about his new classroom and the new program he would be entering with the start of the school year, I felt a sense of anxiousness.  He is entering a special program that his school has developed to help prepare their students for life after school.  It will be a big step and will bring a lot of changes and new challenges.

I learned that part of the program includes work-based learning and specialized staff will find various volunteer work for him to do so they can expose him to a variety of skills and learn what kind of work he will enjoy the most.

I also learned that we have other new members on his team including a career developer and a career specialist.  These two will be focused completely on learning all about my son, working with area businesses, and developing a ‘career’ especially designed for him with special considerations for his abilities and needs.  The hope is that, once he does graduate at 21, he will already be settled in a suitable job situation.

As all of this new information swept through my mind, I had a moment where the Lord spoke quietly into my thoughts.  He knows every step of the journey leading up to this moment, He knows every drop of sadness I have been hiding, and He knows the fears I have for the future … and as I considered all these things and more, I found myself saying out loud, “Tyler gets his adventure too.”

His peers are heading off to college or entering the military or workforce.  Their years of schooling have prepared them for their next step in life.  These last few years have also prepared my son for his next step in life and while it may look different from the typical young adult, it is still new … a step forward.

Yes, it requires an entire team of school staff, specialists, anxiety medication, behavioral therapy, speech therapy, occupational therapy, and considerable time, work, patience, and perseverance … but God has been preparing us for this season of life as well.

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That evening, as I pondered the years a whole and reflected on the information shared in the meetings, these words came to mind  ~ ‘Trace the Rainbow Through the Rain’ ~  It almost seemed a command from the Lord so I began to pray as I sang this verse of the song, ‘O Love that will not let me go’

O Joy that seekest me through pain, 
I cannot close my heart to thee; 
I trace the rainbow through the rain, 
And feel the promise is not vain, 
That morn shall tearless be.

 

This is the verse that always brings a mist to my eyes when we sing it in our church service.  These are the words that best describe my personal journey through, not only loving and raising a child with autism, but so many other challenges as well.

And these were the words the Lord brought to mind in this moment.

I began to ponder the years past and considered all that God had done in the midst of some incredibly difficult seasons.  I considered the present and the very real hard situations that continue to be a part of every day life and even though there are hardships that must be faced daily, the presence of God has been and continues to be unmistakable.

I have learned that grief and peace can travel hand in hand when one walks with God.

I have learned that He is there even when He seems silent.

I have learned that He is working even when all seems lost.

I have also learned that life doesn’t always go the way we would like.

I traced His rainbow through the rain and lifted my eyes once more to the One who holds my life in His hands … and I know His promises remain true on both the stormy days and the ones filled with sunshine.

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I don’t know what difficult situation you might be facing or what may lay hidden in your past, but I can well imagine.  Maybe there are significant dysfunctional family issues.  Maybe a family member who is living with addiction and continually making choices that destroy their lives and hurt their loved ones.  Maybe there is a long-term harmful cycling of behavior in a broken marriage.  Maybe it is a personal issue of sin that you just can’t seem to conquer.  Maybe a heart-breaking diagnosis and the loss of one you hold dear.  Maybe it is a combination of many of these things, as is true for me, or maybe something so much harder.

If you are a follower of Christ, then I invite you to also take some time and trace His rainbow through the rains of your own life.

It is a worthwhile exercise and it serves as a reminder to be thankful for His past mercies and to trust Him for every tomorrow.

 

~”O Love that will not let me go” written by George Matheson~

Dear Self …

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“Watch over your heart with all diligence, for from it flow the springs of life … Let your eyes look directly ahead and let your gaze be fixed straight in front of you.  Watch the path of your feet and all your ways will be established.”
Proverbs 4:23,25-26

I have another blog post or two in the works that I thought I would be sharing by now but these last days have just been so heavy, I’m not ready to share those yet.  I actually wasn’t going to write at all, but I decided that I needed to write to myself tonight.

I have to remind myself who God is.

I have to remind myself who I am in Him.

I have to remind myself that evil will not win in the end.

I have to remind myself that I can’t fix everything, nor should I try.

I have to remind myself that despite the horror in current news, despite the gossip and bitter lies I read on social media, despite the personal grief I am carrying in my own heart …

I have to remind myself about the truth of the goodness of my God.

“I shall remember the deeds of the Lord: Surely I will remember Your wonders of old. I will meditate on all Your work and muse on Your deeds.  Your way, O God, is holy; what god is great like our God?  You are the God who works wonders; You have made known Your strength among the peoples.”
Psalm 77:11-14 

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I sat at my desk for hours today trying to plan out the upcoming school year.  I will have a ninth grader and a tenth grader that I am homeschooling, while my oldest son will continue at his private autism school.  There are so many demands, variables, and changing factors in my family’s life, which fall on my shoulders, that it often seems an impossible task to plan and keep life running somewhat smoothly.  So today I thought, I planned, I read, but mostly I stressed silently inside until I made myself almost sick.

I listened to my own anxious thoughts as I looked at all the papers scattered about, the books, the syllabuses, the plans, and the 100 open tabs on my lap top, before I finally stopped.

This is exactly what I am not supposed to do.

I have a bad tendency to try and figure everything out on my own until I find myself crushed beneath the weight of my own expectations.

I have to remind myself that the Holy Spirit who lives in me will guide and direct the way as I lead my children on our mutual journeys through life.  I don’t have to carry these burdens alone and I don’t have to have all the answers to all the uncertainties of life.

I just have to follow where He leads.

“Search me, O God and know my heart; Try me and know my anxious thoughts; And see if there be any hurtful way in me, and lead me in the everlasting way.”
Psalm 139:23-24

 

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When I look at the darkness around me and feel the weight as I have been lately, it is easy to give into despair and entertain a sense of hopelessness…

When my oldest son struggles with his moods and behaviors…

When I fear the future…

When my other children ache beneath the load they have been called to bear…

When I hear a diagnosis …

When the loneliness of a isolated journey threatens to crush the very breath out of my lungs…

When I am tempted to complain …

When I feel second-best …

When I feel unwanted …

When evil seems to win …

I remind myself who God is.

I take my eyes off of me and the circumstances I face, and I look to the very One who chose me, died for me, and indwells me today.  He changes my perspective as He fills me over and over again with His endless supply of strength and grace.

“Nevertheless I am continually with You; You have taken hold of my right hand, With Your counsel You will guide me, and afterward receive me to glory.  Whom have I in heaven but You?  And besides You, I desire nothing on earth.  My flesh and my heart may fail, But God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.”
Psalm 73:23-26

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So here I sit after a time of remembrance, reflection, repentance, and confession and my outlook is different.

The circumstances have not changed and when I step away from my computer tonight, some of the weight will still be pressing on my soul.

But I make a choice to follow my God and His ways …

And trust Him in the midst of it all.

“Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.  The the Peace of God which surpasses all comprehension, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.  Finally brethren, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is of good repute, if there is any excellence and if anything worthy of praise, dwell on these things.”
Philippians 4:6-8

 

Dear Self … Press on.

Dear Reader … Press on.

A Single Thread in the Greatest Tapestry of All

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As a young girl, I loved to do embroidery and cross-stitch. There was something  exhilarating about creating a design from thin pieces of string, a needle, and material.  To this day, though I rarely do any sort of crafting myself, I find myself drawn to the beauty of art created by thread.  The details a true artist can make come alive and the stories that can be told through this exquisite art form are mesmerizing.

Now, here is something I’ve been thinking on lately … when I look upon a tapestry and observe the picture or story being presented, I always notice the use of color and I usually notice the various stitching utilized.  But I never pay particular attention to any one thread or string used.  The story and the beauty of the piece will cause me to search for details about the creator and ponder the skill they possess.  But never do I ponder or seek information about one particular piece of thread that is used in the overall design.

I have yet to point to an individual thread and say, “Wow! That piece of thread is amazing!  Look how it sewed itself into the material!”

No, I will look at the tapestry and say, “The creator of this piece must possess exceptional skill to create such beauty with simple pieces of thread.”

I believe I can say with confidence that neither does a single thread draw attention to itself nor claim the glory for the masterpiece.

The creator receives the glory … not the thread.

Without the artist, the thread can do nothing.

 

blue blur close up craft

Photo by Fancycrave.com on Pexels.com

 

When my first born began to exhibit significant developmental delays many years ago and received the diagnosis of autism, I prayed constantly for his healing.  I sang praise songs, I spoke verses over him, and I was convinced that I knew the will of God for him.  We certainly were not to be ‘held back’ with the diagnosis of severe autism and I could not see how anything less than a full healing could possibly be the will of God.

Over the years, the severity of his autism continued to grow and significantly impact not only his life, but my own and the rest of our family.  Despite all I tried to do to ‘fix’ his symptoms, little progress was made and the journey grew incredibly hard and isolating.  Family and friends could not relate or understand this reality and I began to hide as I grew discouraged and overwhelmed with a sense of failure.

“Did I not have enough faith?”
“Did I not do enough?”
“Is the severity and impact of my son’s diagnosis all my fault?”

I truly believed it was.

It was when I reached the very end of trying to weave my own version of our story that the Lord picked up the threads.

“My life is but a weaving between my God and me. 
I cannot choose the colors, He weaveth constantly.

‘Oft times He weaveth sorrow; And I in foolish pride
Forget He sees the upper, and I the under side.”

 

The journey since then has been considerably different.  The Lord has often done what I could not.  He has opened doors that were formerly closed, however, He has also allowed others to remain closed.  My son is not ‘healed’ of  autism and yet, he has grown.  The Lord has walked me personally through many steps of spiritual maturity and growth and, as a result, He has allowed me the privilege to teach those same lessons to my children.  Not because He cured my son of autism … but because He is working through my son and his autism.  The difficulties, the hard parts, the dependence on One greater than ourselves … these are the very things that cause us to grow, to change, to look continually towards the Savior.

Often, given the nature of my life and the lack of impact I feel I have in my church and community, I feel insignificant.  I feel like I haven’t done enough … or that I am not good enough.  I believe the story and testimony of another must be of more value than my own.

However, I’ve come to view life as a series of threads that God is weaving into a masterpiece tapestry that He has been crafting since Genesis 1:1.  The thread of one is not greater or of more value than another.  Rather, each become intricately linked together as the Father weaves a story that, for now, we can only partially see.

Remembering that the one to receives the glory is not the single thread, but the Creator of the tapestry.

For the thread, without Him, can do nothing.

Not ’til the loom is silent and the shuttles cease to fly
Will God unroll the canvas and reveal the reasons why

The dark threads are as needful in the weaver’s skillful hand
As the threads of gold and silver in the pattern He has planned.

 

My son woke early one morning this week, upset and out of sorts.  I startled awake and quickly clambered out of bed, wrenching the very knee I just had surgery on.  I limped about, feeling a bit discouraged as I pondered the reality of this life.  But as I helped my son get ready for his day, I began singing softly to myself, without much thought of the song that left my lips.

There is power in the name of Jesus
There is power in the name of Jesus
There is power in the name of Jesus

To break every chain
Break every chain
Break every chain

Suddenly my son locked his eyes on mine and my mostly non-verbal son said one word… ‘Swing.’ 

Everything stopped in that moment as the significance of that one word rolled over me.

One year ago I sat outside on our porch swing with my son as we waited for electricity to be restored after a storm.  I remember it was such a difficult time as I sang those very words to my son just before the Lord led me to present the gospel and his need of a Savior.

One year ago, I sat on the swing and led my son to Jesus.

The memory of that unbelievable moment still fills me with wonder because at one time, it seemed an impossibility.

As I recollected this, our eyes remained locked together as I said, “Yes, you remember that I sang that song to you as we sat on the swing and that was when you asked Jesus into your heart.  You remember that?”

His eyes remained on mine … and he smiled.

 

He knows, He loves, He cares;
Nothing this truth can dim.

He gives the very best to those
Who leave the choice to Him.
(The Tapestry Poem by Corrie ten Boom)

 

You know, I don’t know how different our lives might be had God answered my prayers the way I wanted Him to many years ago.  But this journey has taught me that my story is not mine alone.  The thread of my life is not mine alone to determine the course.  When left in the hand of the Father, the thread learns to actively follow where it is led and in His hands, I have found, is no better place to be.

Some day, we will get to hear the story in its entirety and see the tapestry complete … and then we’ll understand.

For now, I am content to trust Him and follow where He leads.

A single thread in the greatest tapestry of all.

accessory bobbin close up clothing

Photo by Fancycrave.com on Pexels.com

 

Thoughts From My Flower Beds

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In the silence of the early morning hours, I slipped outside with a mug of hot coffee in one hand and my gardening gloves in the other.  With a sense of purpose to my steps, I made my way down to the bank in front of my home and beside the road.  It was this bank that sat neglected for years until I decided to tackle it this past spring.   I wrote a little about that process here -> Where Beauty Dwells

When I finished that job a couple of months ago, it was the neatest it had ever been.  The weeds were gone, flowers were added, and all of it was carefully covered in mulch.  The difference was amazing and I was quite pleased with the result of my labors and soon moved on to other projects and life responsibilities.

In the first few weeks after the completion of the job, I would take a few minutes here and there to stop by and pull little weeds as they popped up.  But then life got a bit crazier and you know, I didn’t give that bank much thought.  The project was done and I had other things to do … surely all the work I had put into it was enough.

Now in the morning’s quiet, I figured I could get the bank cleared out again in no time.

Oh, but those weeds that I had worked so hard to eradicate had taken over once more …

Vines spreading all over, poison ivy everywhere I looked, and my sweet flowers all but choked out.

It did not matter how much work I had put into that bank just a couple of months ago.  It did not matter how well-cared for it had been or how lovely it had been with the addition of colorful flowers.  Just a brief time of neglect was all that was needed to revert back to its old ways.

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Every time I pull weeds, I am reminded of my own sin nature.

Sin is just as pervasive and resilient as the weeds in my flower beds.

We go to church and we dedicate our lives to God.  We confess every sin we can think of and we walk away feeling so much cleaner … so much nicer.

We work through a Bible study and as the Holy Spirit reveals hidden parts of our nature, we pledge to eradicate them from our lives.  We are refreshed and renewed.

We attend a conference or a weekend retreat.  We feel challenged and encouraged and convinced we’ve got this Christian life figured out.

Then we get caught up in our crazy lives and we have the best of intentions to read our Bibles every day and talk to the Lord every day … and we really do intend to keep an eye out for those weeds of sin that we ripped from our lives.

But what happens?

One day we notice something … our hearts are overcome with sin once more and the loveliness of Christ is being choked out.

Just a bit of neglect allows our hearts to revert to its old ways.

I find this the most disheartening thing.

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As I worked on the bank and pulled at the weeds, I became aware of the amount of poison ivy that had become very pervasive.  I realized that I was not dressed appropriately to battle poison ivy and if I continued, I would soon be covered by a terrible rash.

I admit, I was briefly tempted to take my chances and just continue with the fight but my extensive history with this notorious plant cautioned me that this would be a grave mistake.  One that I would deeply regret.

So I returned to the house and dressed until I was completely covered.  Then I pulled on two sets of gloves before returning to the battle.  Appropriately armed for the fight gave me an advantage to fight aggressively against my foe.  I knew if I was well-protected, the harmful effects of the poison would not cause me great harm.  I could easily still be touched by the poison as it has gone through clothing before, but I knew if I was properly protected, the effects would be minimal.

So with sin I must be properly prepared and armed for my battles against it.

Ephesians 6 reminds us that we must be strong in the battle against sin and to do so, we must be fully dressed in the armor of Christ…

“Finally, be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power.  Put on the full armor of God, so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes.  For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.  Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand.  Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place,  and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace.  In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one.  Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.

And pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests. With this in mind, be alert and always keep on praying for all the Lord’s people.”
Ephesians 6:10-18

 

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As I pulled the weeds in my bank along the road, I noticed that some had very shallow roots and they came out quite easily.  Others were deeply entrenched and took a lot of muscle power to pull.  Still others were connected by intricate and strong vine systems that made it almost impossible to remove.

I found this so convicting.

As I pulled each weed, I asked the Lord to show me those kinds of sins in my life.  The superficial shallow ones that can be addressed fairly easily.  The ones that have grown so deeply into my nature and personality that it requires diligent muscle power to pull.  And the ones that are connected deep below the surface … these are the ones that spread and take over, often without me realizing it.

I am convinced the Lord loves these kinds of prayers because the Holy Spirit has been working overtime on this heart of mine!  And, as always, it is a pretty rough process.

On a side note, I am also convinced that if we talk to the Lord (or other people) more about the sins and faults of another than talking to Him about our own sins … something is wrong.  We have to honestly deal with the big ol’ log in our own eye first.

So the Lord has been graciously shedding His light on the weeds that I have allowed to take root and grow.  Deep, entangling vine-like sins such as bitterness and resentfulness.  I have had to confess these over and over the last few weeks as I have been walking through some deep trenches with my family.   My personal poison ivy is probably the sin of envy and no other season brings that out in me like summer time when I see what typical families get to do together.  It is a deeply rooted sin that continually needs addressed.

But what about the more shallow sins that most of us might not recognize to be sin?  Well, if the Lord convicts us about it, it becomes sin.  For me, I have noticed my old use of sarcasm coming alive again.  Is sarcasm sinful?  Maybe not for you but in many situations, the Lord challenges me and convicts me every time it slips out.  I have become more and more aware that the Lord wants my words to be careful and sure … guarded, if you will.   Carefully seasoned with truth and gracious.  The Bible is full of verses that caution the use of our tongue and for me, I feel a strong conviction to guard my words carefully.  But oh so often, those words slip out and the Spirit sends a sharp word of rebuke as He yanks that weed of sin out.

Sigh … you know, it is never ending work to keep those weeds out of my flower beds.  I have resigned myself that is part of living in a broken world.

It is also a never ending task to keep sin out of my life.  It requires constant vigilance and even more humility.  It is never easy to submit to the Lord and watch as He allows me to sin so I can recognize my own human frailty and absolute dependence on Him.

After all, He died so that I might be free from sin … how wonderful is it that I can be dependent on Him?

There is great satisfaction as I look over my flower beds and see the beauty of my labors.  I am always glad I have done the work and removed the weeds.  Even if I know I will have to do it over and over again.

Can I submit to you that there is an even greater satisfaction and peace when the Lord removes sin from the flower bed that is my heart and mind?  It is never easy nor is it ever fun … but the end result is worth the cost.

Just some thoughts from my flower beds.

 

 

 

Summer Writing 2 : When I think I Can’t

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There are days … moments … seasons … when I think I can’t …

I can’t face one more day.

I can’t face the night.

I can’t face one more meltdown…

Not one more rage…

Not one more demand on my exhausted mind and body.

I can’t face one more feeling of isolation.

I can’t face one more season of loneliness.

I can’t face one more trial borne alone on my weary shoulders.

I can’t face one more …

Have you experienced this as well?

When everything inside of you is screaming that you simply can’t … ?

It is a feeling I know well.

This morning I woke feeling just as fatigued as when I went to bed the night before.

We are in break weeks, which I shared about here, Summer Writing and I make no apology for the overwhelmed, exhausted place I am in.  It goes with my journey.

I am human.  The road is challenging.  I am pouring out constantly.  Little is coming back in.  My cup is mostly empty.  My strength depleted.  It is hard to face the demands of another day.  Sometimes, I feel like I can’t.

I recognize these times in life as crossroads.  The road is definitely going a certain direction, but at various points, it splits and I must choose, which path I will go.

photo of pathway surrounded by fir trees

Photo by James Wheeler on Pexels.com

To the untrained eye, the paths look relatively the same.  But to the pilgrim who has journeyed this way before, there is more than meets the eye.  The one path is the way of righteousness.  It is the path that Christ Himself walked.  It is the path of trust and surrender.  It is the way of sacrifice.  It is the path that has little appeal to most who pass this way because it is not the easy way.

The second path is the way of self.  It is a much broader path than the other and considerably more alluring.  It appears as being a more level path but it gradually slopes downward, while the other rises above.  On this path, companions, such as Self-Pity and Self-Indulgence, run wild and free, ready to lead you further than you may want to go.

To the one who is familiar with the snares the enemy uses, there arises inside a warning cry not to follow that second path.  It looks harmless at onset, but many a pilgrim has gone that way, never to be seen again.  They become lost and they spend the remainder of their lives wandering aimlessly, never moving forward. Never rising above.  Some have taken that path only to recognize their mistake.  The journey back to the path of righteousness is often particularly arduous and difficult and rarely does a person make it without some scars.

mountain-landscape-1469554893GnI
I stood in the quiet this morning, once again facing the crossroad that is particularly common on my journey.  The words ‘I can’t do this’ echoed in my thoughts and my foes, Resentfulness and Self-Pity, stood ready nearby to entice me down the path of self.

But as I stood there, I remembered all the times the Lord had been faithful as He led me on the paths of righteousness.  I remembered the battles hard-fought and won.  I thought of the incomprehensible peace that has been a part of my life because of following Him.

So when the whisper, “I can’t do this” came once more, I whispered back …

“You’re right.  I can’t.”

“But He can.”

 

The Lord is my shepherd,
I shall not want.
He makes me lie down in green pastures;
He leads me beside quiet waters.
He restores my soul;
He guides me in the [c]paths of righteousness
For His name’s sake.

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I fear no evil, for You are with me;
Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies;
You have anointed my head with oil;
My cup overflows.
Surely goodness and lovingkindness will follow me all the days of my life,
And I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.
Psalm 23

 

Summer Writing

/ walkingthisjourneysite / 2 Comments

Summer.

Thoughts of summer tend to inspire all kinds of images, memories, dreams, and plans.

Just this morning, while the rest of my family slumbered peacefully as I weeded flower beds outside, I was reminded of my own childhood summers.  I would often sleep in and when I finally stumbled down the stairs, the house would be quiet … my mother no where to be seen.  Yet, all I had to do was look out the back patio door and there I would usually find her, bent over, pulling weeds from the garden.  Back then I thought that the most terrible thing … working outside in the garden during those lazy early summer mornings.

Now, I see it differently.

I couldn’t wait to get outside this morning and even though I was quite weary and the temperatures already warm, I eagerly embraced the task of weeding my own flower beds.

Time has a way of adjusting our perspectives, doesn’t it?

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I’ve been thinking about perspectives quite a bit lately.  And writing.

Summer too.  Oh, and homeschooling.  Autism.  Family.  Relationships.  Personalities.

Children.  Hurt feelings.  Misunderstandings and feeling left out.  Faith.

The current culture.  The future.

So basically … life.

My oldest son, who is 18 and has severe autism, is currently on break from school.  There are those who are critical of this kind of honesty, but I can readily admit these are some of the most challenging days of the year for me personally.  When he is home, my radar is on 24/7 and it doesn’t take long for me to experience a certain level of burn-out as he begins to break down from the extended break in his routine.

It is a balancing act trying to keep him busy and productive without overstimulating him with too much activity, changes, and demands.  What an entire team of professionals do during a single day cannot be replicated by one weary mother who is balancing some extreme autistic behaviors, the needs of other children, and many diverse tasks and responsibilities.

During this burning-out phase, parts of my brain tend to slow or even shut down so that other parts can continue to function.  My thinking and overall reaction time slows, while my stress response actually quickens.  I sleep more but never feel rested.  I enter the familiar realm of survival.

It is what it is.

Typically in the days before I begin burning out, I write more.  I share little stories or the day’s events on social media.  I take more pictures.  It is a desperate attempt to reach out and connect because I am always afraid of getting lost in this world of survival.  I focus and share on the positives, wanting others to see and experience the smallest of steps of our journey.  Then suddenly, a switch flips and everything changes.

There is a hazy fog that fills me until I can only see the very next step ahead of me…

And sometimes not even that.

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This morning, I stepped outside into the quiet morning air with my coffee in one hand and my gardening gloves in the other.  I pushed the wheelbarrow over and then slowly, methodically began to weed my flower bed.  I would stop to sip my coffee and look around me before reaching back down for another invasive weed.  I contemplated both the beauty of the flowers and the quiet … and the One who created it all … and what all influences our perceptions.

When I was young, weeding a garden in the early morning hours when I could be sleeping, was unthinkable.  Now, it is a time to gather strength.  A time to be alone in the silence and talk with my Savior.  A time to listen to His instruction.

My perception of pulling weeds, and pretty much everything else, has changed over time.  The way I understand life and perceive it have altered considerably through life experiences, a deepening walk with God, a transforming worldview based on the truth of Scripture, trials, and the resulting maturity.

There is little that I see the same as when I was a child.

As it should be.

The difficulties of my youth, the things I cried into my pillow about, now seem less significant in the light of more recent heartaches.

Yet, to the naive child I was, those heartaches were deep and real.  I would never go back to that child and tell her that her tears were silly.  I would never tell her other people’s problems are more important than hers.  No, if I could go back, I would wipe her tears, teach her more about the Savior, walk with her through the heartaches, talk to her about making wise decisions, and then encourage her to see and reach out to the heartaches around her.

To the young woman who was so desperate to be loved that she hinged her entire identity on it, I would never dismiss her fears.  I would wrap my arms around her and direct her back to the One whose very love redeemed her and fills her life with more purpose and identity that she could possibly imagine.  I would encourage her to deepen and strengthen her walk with Christ before even considering dating or marriage.  I would caution her to seek Christ first and to make wise decisions.

To the married woman in a broken relationship, longing for a baby of her own, I would never make light of her desire for motherhood or the brokenness she was experiencing.  I would sit beside her, wipe away her tears, pray with her, and encourage her to love the children that are already in her life.  Invest in them, trust the Lord for her own future, learn the process of contentment, make wise decisions, and above all else, look to Christ first in all things.

You see, hindsight makes me look at all the various difficult seasons in my life very differently.  Because of the journey I have been on and the countless ways I have see God work on my behalf over many years, I understand things differently now.  But, I had to walk through all the very real and very hard things to learn this about Him.  The child I was could never begin to understand what I know now … nor could the woman I was five years ago.

My perception has changed and therefore how I respond to life has changed.

“When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put the ways of childhood behind me.”
1 Corinthians 13:11

One time I was asked by a person in ministry, who was walking through a very hard season in life, how I handle it when people complain to me about things that seem trivial in comparison to my journey.  Does it bother me?  I thought for a moment and then answered honestly that it used to bother me.  When a young mother would complain about her baby waking in the night or how tired she was, my insides would scoff as I thought about the years of sleep deprivation I have experienced …

But then I grew up.

I matured in my faith and I began to recognize the purpose of my trials and the strength of my Savior.  He developed in me an empathy and deep compassion for people and more than anything, this has deepened into a desire to be an encouragement to others.

So now when a young mother mentions how tired she is and then apologizes as she realizes how weary I am, I try to be quick to reassure her.  Her fatigue is very real.  Just because I am weary from years and years of sleep deprivation, does not make her any less weary.  It doesn’t make her fatigue any less important.  I always try to validate her and then encourage her that it is simply part of the journey and the Lord who walks with her can be her source of strength on the most weary of days and nights.  I want her to look to Jesus in the difficult times, as well as, the good.

Why else has God brought me through all these years if not to point others to Him?

A young mother’s perception of the early days of motherhood will adjust and change over time.  The present season we are in is usually the hardest season because we are learning and growing just as our children are.

The same is true for our fellow believers who are walking through life, with difficulties big or small.  I don’t get to determine the size of someone’s struggle or trial … I do not know their life experiences nor the depth of their faith.  I do not know know how they perceive life and I cannot expect them to view their difficulty through the same perception I have.  I can only love them, point them to Jesus, speak the truth from Scriptures, challenge them to make wise decisions, and pray that their faith would grow as they walk through whatever season of difficulty they are facing.

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As I pulled the weeds from my garden this morning, I asked the Father to pull the weeds of sin from my own life and to continue to grow and strengthen me even as the hazy fog of survival mode threatens to overwhelm me.  All I could hear in the silence was to continue to look to Him in all things, practice contentment, make wise decisions, show myself some grace, and write … write what I have learned and trust to be true.

The truths that strengthen me during some of the most wearying days of the year.

So, I offer to you my summer writing … because of Him.