Month: March 2011

Dupers Duping

So, I’m drinking my tea… browsing the news (okay, yes, and checking in on Facebook), and I noticed an article about new food packaging.  Arrggghh!  If there’s a subject that’s really gotten me going lately, it is this!!  Less food in “better” packaging for more money!  Arrggghh!

Bought a box – bag – whatever, package of bathroom tissue from Costco — the marketing! Omy.  These rolls were giant rolls = like getting two regular rolls in one.  A week or so later, I’m standing there looking at the two packages.  One package contained x number of rolls, x square-inches of tissue.  This NEW!! giant roll (ahem, like getting two regular rolls in one) package had fewer square inches – for more money.   But it FELT like more — that’s what the package said.  I even took the time to jot down on my palm-pilot (well, okay, a post-it-note) the product content information.  It wasn’t enough that I could see the lesser/difference – I wanted to have my written proof.

I was going to call the company – armed with information and give them my opinion.  But I didn’t… I lost my little post it note.  And then later, I lost my nerve/incentive to call.

Then, on a couple of different occasions I was baking and noticed the saltine crackers were smaller; I was making a graham-cracker crust and I thought:  whatintheworld?  These squares are smaller, too! I opened another box – this one, newer.  Again, whatintheworld?  Already broken squares in handy take along – stay fresh – stack-packs?!?!  I do not want to take these along anywhere!  This is not handy to me!  This is not convenient to me and these are not economical stay-fresh stack packs to me!  I’m thinking: They’re not going to be around long enough to need to be kept fresh. ;o)

So, today I decided I would call the company.   On the line was someone I’m sure not born in Snohomish (but I digress).  And so, I proceeded to tell her what I thought of the handy packaging and the convenient stack packs and the economical family size – they’re neither convenient nor family size.  I told her that a recipe calling for a package of graham crackers is not going to produce same volume and so from now on, in addition to requiring the purcha$e of more boxe$, I will have to continually weigh the crackers – as I’m sure they’ll continue to repackage and reduce the volume.

I told her that consumers are not ignorant that all this handy and convenient packaging is a sly attempt to deceive consumers.  I went on to tell her this great deception is, in reality, a great insult — actually mocking the intelligence of their customers — that they’re not thinking of the customer’s convenience at all, that their packaging is not green, it’s greed!

When she thanked me for calling today, I told her I wasn’t confident my call would matter much, but that I wasn’t just calling to rant, but that I wanted them to know that I’d rather pay more (exhibit A = already do) for an honest weight and measure.  She assured me my call was important (I felt like I was on hold with GroupHealth listening to a recording).   She said they were very interested in hearing customer’s views and then reminded me that there would be some settling in the packaging.  I agreed but reminded her that I was talking about weight of the box of graham crackers, ritz crackers — not how a box of crackers or cereal looks when opened.  I told her I got that one.

I think my boys have tried that one: Ma, there’s a lot missing?!?!?!  O, it must’ve been due to settling during shipping.  O yes, boys, that must be it – silly me.

We want to believe that food companies have the consumers’ best interest at heart.  But, especially in this day and age, I’m tending to think that there’s a lot of duping going on.  It seems advertisers are working like never before to spin information to make things seem much more desirable than ever before.

So the next time you go to the store to buy a box of graham-crackers (or just about any other product)  if you haven’t noticed already, the weight/volume is less.  Again.  And, yes, the price has jumped up — on many things, quite a bit!  Consumers really are noticing these seemingly little changes. All New Packaging! Less Food! Don’t be duped by the dupers… they’re telling you they’re saving you money — and you just might buy it.  They’re keeping the height of the box the same or they’re introducing to you a new shape, a new, convenient, stay-fresh package, etc., etc.  But take another look, the box is thinner.  Those handy stack packs, those stay-fresh-stack-packs – inside are shorter.   That juice may have a new handy grab and pour design.  This only equals less volume.   This isn’t new… it’s been going on for some time… as this article shows.  In the end, they think you won’t notice anything but price.

But I know you, you’re smarter than that.

Here are a few numbers for you:

Nabisco: 1.800.NABISCO
Kellogg’s: 1.269.961/2000
Kraft: 1.847.646.200

Birthday Princess

Today is not my birthday.  Yesterday was not my birthday.  The day before yesterday… was.  Yet, I woke up yesterday expecting that it should still be my birthday – you know,  treats, party hats and special treatment.  I call this the birthday-princess mentality.  It happens.

The birthday princess mentality is kin to other princess mentalities — you know, the date-princess, the shopping-princess, the napping-princess.  You get the idea.  It’s as if whenever some delightful thing/event/outing happens, it ought to continue happening, I mean, I am the birthday (or whatever) princess after all.

I woke up this morning to the reality of Monday, and like most Monday’s, I felt the night’s sleep was entirely too brief and the morning came far too soon.  The morning was ushering in the day that held much to be done.  I knew much was on the list of to-do’s — but I was still feeling  too-special-to-work — and then came the nearly startling reality: What? It’s not my birthday?!?!

I must accept the reality that birthdays are a once-a-year deal.  Regrettably, it’s only once a year the birthday princess can wear her tiara (and get away with it).  At Claire’s the other night (on my birthday) I was looking over the displays of barrettes and hairbands and noticed a beautiful diamond tiara.  Setting my handbag down and adjusting the tiara on my head, I whispered, psssssst,  to my husband and daughter in another part of the small shoppe.  They were amused.  They did not buy me the beautiful tiara.

I knew at that moment I had few precious hours left to be the birthday princess.  Even still, no tiara.

Just to clarify, I’m not talking about the princess complex (though I think we all occasionally have, or suffer, the princess-complex from time to time). The princess-complex is that overarching need to be found desirable.   The desire to be the darling — the center of attention.  Or, maybe for others (and I’m not referring to this either), the Cinderella complex – you know, the strong need/wish that someone will come rescuing from whatever oppressive/poor/neglected/unloved current plight — that surely there’s a prince out there that will make all the troubles of the world go away and life will be convenient, rich and effortless.

No, the birthday-princess mentality is much simpler that all that.  It’s just the delight in being made to feel special for the day.  The normal routines are sort of set aside.   Maybe that’s why it’s so fun.  Sort of like dressing up, eating fine foods at a fancy restaurant – eating a delicious meal you don’t plan for, shop for, cook or clean up after.  For most of us, it’s not real life — for most of us, the other side is more our daily life — you know, the planning, cleaning, washing, cooking, serving and cleaning up the kitchen afterward.   So it’s the sweet stuff  that makes for the birthday princess dreams.

In reality, some of us can’t really take too much of the birthday princess pampering.  I know it’s usually way too much for me to have the extra attention — to be on the receiving end of the service.  Even more, it’s hard for me not to keep doing or want to keep doing chores.

Our daughter, Kathryn, prepared the most delicious meal the other night for my ‘family birthday’ dinner.   So many delicious foods – she made beautiful hors d’Oeuvres,  salad, roast and baked potatoes; the softest  fresh potato rolls… Omy – sooo good!  And to finish the meal, she served a delicious dessert.  She’d even gotten flowers!!   She made the whole birthday meal look and taste beautiful — it was all delightful.  And as if that weren’t enough, she also prepared an exquisite birthday breakfast for the whole family here the next morning — that was in addition to  a birthday coffee and a special birthday dessert made for our church meal.  All the while she was preparing to go out of town for a couple of weeks — but that didn’t hinder her generosity.

I loved watching her work/create all the different dishes.  Though she often shooed me out of the kitchen, I found it so hard to stand by and just watch.  So, whenever I could, I washed a bowl or scrubbed a pan… trying to shadow her as she cooked.  She told me, no, no, no… it’s your special day – you’re the birthday princess!

And then it dawned on me:  Yes! Yes, I was born to be a princess.  But I was also born to work.

And I’m so glad.

 

 

Be clear on the concept

I snapped this photo one day when  one of our little boys was doing dishes for me and when I came in to check his progress, I noticed the dishes weren’t loaded properly — an error that was glaringly obvious  to me.  Funny thing was, it wasn’t obvious to him.  He was actually very proud of how neatly he had put the cups and glasses into the dishwasher rack.  I showed him that, while they were neat, they weren’t going to get clean inside because they would only fill with water, they would not be washed out by the sprayer beneath.

As I thought on those cups, I began to draw parallels to motherhood.  And, thus, I decided to post this photo and attach a  label to it.  Because, really, it truly does help to be clear on the concept! And so it is, unless and until we’re clear on the concept, we’re going to experience failure after failure.  And, we’ll likely want to give up.  And we may even do so!

We need to get a hold of a vision… a fruitful plan and purpose for motherhood — for our motherhood – for our mothering!  We need to seize the moment, as it were.  Because, I tell you the truth — the moments are fleeting and the time will be past before you know it!  We need to grab hold of a decision to love our families as they ought to be loved!

I genuinely believe it’s when we truly discern and determine to love and serve our families, when we begin to strive for excellence, when  we begin to grab hold of the great and precious promises of the Lord and when we seek to live in joyful compliance to His Word and His marvelous plan for our life, we will have His great blessing and encouragement and we will be joyful mothers, joyful keepers at home. But it takes a real want to!  And it takes a turning away from unfruitful things, distractions and time wasters.

Over the years, I’ve worked and reworked many plans, many routines for homekeeping… and I keep working and reworking them out as my family grows and daily activities change.  And so, it is with confidence that I share with you that there are MANY tricks you can learn and implement —and if you will— you will find you truly enjoy keeping your home! The better part of that is that your children will grow up SEEING a glad mother who ENJOYED  *BEING* a mother to her family.  I can also tell you, to my shame, that when I have NOT  diligently sought to serve and love my family, when I’ve not striven for excellence or dedication, I have failed and my family  suffered for it.  And thus, by the grace of God, I humbled myself, rededicated myself to the task and sought the Lord’s blessing — and true to His Word, He helped me, He restored my path.

As one of my daughters reminded me recently: Mama… remember how you said, your children may not remember all you did here, but they’ll remember how it felt here.  Yes, I remember saying that.  Many times.  And that’s one of the little admonitions that fuels my work and strengthens my resolve each day.

So, I just want to say to you, dear mother, you’ll do fine… just be sure you’re clear on the concept.

Springtime… seasons

The lacy green leaves are slowly appearing and daffodils are beginning to bloom around the old willow tree.  Isn’t it an awesome wonder: Every year, every passing season, has its marvelous reminders of the lavish mercy and everlasting kindness of the Lord.  May I never take this for granted nor think it not majestic.

Passing through many seasons in thirty-three years of marriage, I so hope I never again take for granted my husband’s care and thoughtful gestures.   You know, it’s something we all do — take for granted things that are or have been long present with us.  We assume things will continue just as they have… and then an illness, an accident, a tragedy occurs and that once steady, once forever, once ‘always there’ part of our life is taken away, lost, given away — whatever.

I was reading a long, detailed obituary this morning — a recounting of the life of a beloved wife, mother, grandmother.  A story of a stranger, yet after reading her obituary, a friend.  I began to think of different things I might want to write about my own mother; things I might want to write about my husband, my children, my friends.   All filling different spaces, memories, needs and seasons in my life — yet, do I take them for granted?  Do I tell them today the things I might be called upon to record in tomorrow’s obituary?  Might I never have another season with them?

My husband has the music player beside our bed set to play a few songs for me to hear when he wakes me up each morning.  He’s carefully chosen such encouraging music for me — I’m so blessed and inspired by the music — but, really, it’s the words I hear that linger in my thoughts and set the tone of the morning.  Like prayer and God’s Word… the music stays with me, greatly inspiring me for the day.

Ever mindful of just what I need, lately he’s included a song that’s been particularly encouraging to me.  It’s called Springtime’s Coming, sung by Kim Hopper ( The Hopper’s are Southern gospel singers).  Interestingly, I actually only really like a very select few Southern Gospel groups and wouldn’t ordinarily choose this particular one, but there’s something particularly beautiful and instructive to me in the one song he’s chosen for me.  I can’t find a clip to post, nor can I find the lyrics to share with you.  But here’s my attempt to share it with you. It goes something like this…  I’m sorry to not have the beautiful music for you.

Springtime’s Coming

It’s been a long hard winter, Spring’s long overdue…
Icy wind, cruel and bitter has chilled hope out of you,
you want to look ahead, but your heart’s so full of dread,
you can’t see the subtle changes in the air…
Springtime’s coming…

On the heels of a Winter wind, balmy breezes
will blow across your garden again,
the seeds of hope you’ve planted,
are alive beneath the snow, the blooms are yet to show…
this season will end.

Springtime’s coming, after the winter wind.

I know it’s hard to imagine that Spring’s on the way…
With the trees brown and barren and the skies so gray

Right before your eyes God has the sweetest surprise
All the new things He’s prepared to colour your world…
Springtime’s coming.

As long as heaven and earth remain
God promises the seasons will change
Springtime’s coming.

My husband gave me this card some years back for our anniversary… Many seasons have passed from that anniversary to this day.  And I can truly say that God has had the sweetest surprises in store for me following some of the seemingly most barren seasons.  Praise the Lord.  He only does all things well.  May I never take this for granted.

CSA: Risk Telling the Story

Telling stories of your yesterdays bores some people, encourages some people and inspires some people — embarrasses some people, too.  I know, many times through the years, I’ve witnessed the reactions women have when some woman opens her mouth to share her story.  I’ve seen it when I’ve shared my story.  They’ve heard it all before and they’re weary at the thought of having to hear it ah-gain.  People totally write other people off when they’re weary of hearing their stories.

Sadly, as some poor woman begins to utter the first sentence of her story (again), her audience, as if cued to do so,  glazes over.  They seem to go into auto-pilot as they remain in their chairs, appearing to be listening, but really they’re mentally rehearsing their to-do lists, mentally reorganizing their craft drawers, mapping out their gardens or surreptitiously inserting an earbud to listen to their latest iTune download.  And sadly, though it might not seem like it, she  probably sees all this, I’ve seen all this.

But she tells her story. Again.  I’ve told my story. Again.

This past week in our Sunday Meeting, a brother was sharing the culmination of seven year’s of prayer regarding a matter he’d been dealing with and how the Lord worked so mightily and so mercifully in his life and on his behalf.  And then he shared a most encouraging and instructive admonition.  And it was this:  when someone’s going through something, when someone’s dealing with something, listen to them — listen to their story — even if you’ve heard it all before — even if you’re tired of hearing it.  Listen to them… because even if it is tiring to hear the story again and again, the person telling the story is still going through the trial — still dealing with a struggle, a heartache, a sorrow — whatever.  You might want to just move on… but, truly, if they’re still in the midst of a trial… they’re not moving on yet.  And if you hang in there with them, then when the trial or the storm passes, you will be able to sincerely rejoice with them.

To ignore them or to apathetically check out as they’re talking is just as bad as saying: “Been there, Done that” when a person describes something they’re facing.  The been there, done that phrase is really so selfish and disrespectful — though meanness or disrespect is not intended, it feels that way to the one sharing the story.

And so it is with the woman who is telling her story – in this case, about CSA.  Especially if it’s just recently that she’s begun to risk revealing her story – her past – and her experiences because of it.  It’s a terribly risky thing to do – the telling of the story. Because, by now, she’s faced the truth, she’s risked not being believed, she’s risked being harmed (further), she’s probably told on the perpetrator, she’s come out of the shadow of silence and shame and now she’s daring to be vulnerable with her hearers.  Maybe even again.  And again.

In the telling of her story, she’s risking judgment – real or imagined.  She’s risking ridicule – real or imagined and, further, she’s risking her own feelings, her own suppressed memories, suppressed anger and fear coming to the surface all over again.  Those things feel real — not imagined and the risk is real — not imagined.

What she doesn’t know going into it is how the Lord is using the experiences in her life in the lives of others.  What she doesn’t know is that God is so big — so great — so merciful — that because He never wastes a thread, He can and will use what she’s gone through — what she’s going through and He will continue healing, working and reworking in her so that her life reflects His glory.

We rarely see that our sphere of influence is much greater than our sphere of acquaintance and the story we’ve told today, in a roomful of seemingly apathetic hearers, just might have fallen into the tender ears and heart of a sister who has a story she’s afraid to tell.  The telling of the story may be just the encouragement she needs to muster the courage to tell her story.

If just one sister is helped, then the risk was so totally worth it.
If just one woman is helped by these CSA blog entries, then it’s all been worth it to me.

CSA; I’ve never told anyone this before, but…

That’s how the stories usually begin… that’s how they usually come tumbling out of mouth of a woman sitting beside me.  The story is actually prefaced with: Can I talk to you?  And after I say, Of course, hot tears seem to well up in the eyes of  the one who desperately needs to tell someone — someone who will listen, someone who will understand, someone who will care.

[ Because of something I might have shared there in a talk or because of the “safe-feeling” of the setting – maybe it’s after a Bible study, a Ladies’ Tea or at a Women’s Retreat –  I think women know they can talk to me; they know I will listen, they know I will understand and they know I will care.  What they might not know (or believe) is that not only will all those things be true, but I will also pray with and for them.   I’m so glad for these opportunities.  I marvel how the Lord’s continually brought to mind many women I’ve talked with over the years. And   though I might’ve forgotten their name – I still remember their stories, I still remember their faces and still care that they shared their stories with me.  And I pray for them.  These opportunities are some of the ways the Lord has shown me that what the devil intended for evil, God intended for good — for my good and His glory. ]

And so, their story usually begins something like this:  I’ve never told anyone this before, but when I was eleven (or what ever age) my step-father (or uncle or brother or neighbour or family friend, etc.) sexuallyabused me.  I didn’t know it was sexualabuse at the time, but he told me not to tell anyone… and I knew it was wrong,  but I was so scared and I knew there would be trouble if I told anyone… but I can’t live with this secret anymore.  This secret is killing me.  I just can’t keep this in anymore.

Even if she told one person initially,  she’ll usually remain pretty silent after that.  Maybe only ever just hinting at a problem. Because the fear remains.  And then shame moves in and brings along shame’s traveling companion: guilt.  She wonders how could that have happened?  And then she resolves, that will never happen again!  But she remains silent.  That silence lasts for years — creative coping mechanisms sort of carry her through; she learns to adapt to fear and insulates herself from further abuse… she becomes adept at stuffing her emotions, masking them or pretending they don’t exist.  Lots of denial, lots of shame, destructive habits and character issues.  Doubt and fear become second nature and, generally speaking, it will be a long time before a girl or woman will ever divulge what happened.

And for most of us, sooner or later, a breaking point washes over us and we  find trust in someone and can finally say: I’ve never told anyone this before but…

And there’s some strange comfort in the telling.  It’s not the same smug wielding of power that comes when a child says: I’m telling! to a sister or friend who took the last cookie or whatever.  It’s a different  — a freeing revelation — one that looks fear in the face and says: you cannot hurt me anymore. It’s one that takes that secret and blows it to pieces, saying:  It’s out… the secret’s out.  The secret isn’t secret anymore.

And after the telling… after the woman’s straightened herself in the chair, wiped her tears and has taken a deep breath, she looks up and, maybe for the first time, experiences a small bit of relief  — knowing that :  now someone else knows and now someone else cares — finally, someone understands.   I totally understand.  And, truth is, lots of “someone’s” understand.

At this point, I usually ask the woman (if she’s married) if she’s candidly talked with her husband about this.  And, actually, such is usually the case — women have usually at least told their husband.  But if not, I always suggest that’s the next person to talk with and I pray with her that by the grace of God, she will do that right away.   I always feel like I wish I could somehow convey to a husband, in advance, hey, your wife’s got a very, very heavy burden to reveal to you… you already know deep down that she has some deep seated hurts – some wounds and scars that need attention and healing.  And you’re going to need to be ready to bear this burden with her…but I don’t and so, with trust in the merciful Lord, I mentally give the matter to Him.

If the woman is not married, then the matter is wholly different — and prayer for wisdom and understanding is the first measure to take.  And then, very special attention to working out with her, talking her through the revealing, through the facing of the truth — to parents or whomever is ‘responsible’ for her care.

In the end, I sure pray she will carry through and will be believed when she says, I’ve never told anyone this before, but…

 

 

 

CSA Fallout

Still drinking from my saucer ’cause my cup’s overflowed.  And, in light of the horrific tragedy that’s befallen Japan, I want to say what I’ve written today is in no way meant to make light of that whole situation.  Just wanted to make those comments before I continue writing today’s blog entry.

I want to write some more chapters in my CSA mini-series.  I’ve dealt with the results, the  unintended consequences or the results of sexualabuse through the years and here and there a thought or reaction will come up.  It’s always unexpected, always surprising — but always there.  CSA is always so right-around-the-corner.  It’s always so right there.  This is one reality only CSA survivors really understand.  The reason I say this is the number of times I’ve heard (myself or from others) that was a long time ago, get over it.  Can’t you get over it?

The CSA survivor wants to say, yes; the CSA survivor  wants to think, yes; the CSA survivor wants to believe, yes.  She may even think she has gotten over it.  Then the fallout.  The fallout comes in many forms – thoughts, dreams, rage, fear, panic — default reactions to situations that come up.  Fallout.

World English Dictionary
fallout (ˈfɔːlˌaʊt)

— n
1. the descent of solid material in the atmosphere onto the earth, esp of radioactive material following a nuclear explosion
2. any solid particles that so descend
3. informal side-effects; secondary consequences

— vb
4. informal to quarrel or disagree
5. ( intr ) to happen or occur
6. military to leave a parade or disciplinary formation

Fallout.  The unintended consequences the perpetrator leaves in the life of the sexuallyabused child.  After the explosion of CSA, the particles have been blown so far and wide that the magnitude of the “fallout” may not be seen for a long, long time.   O, there’s enough initial fallout to change that life, but the deeper consequences might not be seen (or understood) for a long time – those secondary consequences.

If you’re a CSA survivor, you’ll get this — maybe you haven’t until now. But after you read some of these examples, maybe you’ll have  some ah-ha moments – maybe some pieces will finally “come together” and you’ll connect the dots between things that don’t ever seem to make sense. Maybe you struggle with reality.  Maybe you struggle with relationships.  Maybe truth.  Maybe trust.  Dot. dot. dot.

Maybe you’re saying: Wow, that’s me, I’m so all those things.  Maybe those are some of the dots in your life.  For me, I call these dots with no connections: Bridges to Nowhere.  I’ll be going along and suddenly there’s a bridge to nowhere in my thinking, reaction or emotion — a situation comes up, a relationship issue presents itself, a thought comes to mind and suddenly there’s nowhere to go.  No solutions, no trust, no natural or appropriate emotion.   Emotional disconnects.  Bridges to nowhere.  Fallout.  An emotional bridge to nowhere.  Fallout.

I know I began asking questions when different things didn’t ever seem to connect.  Why do I do this or why do I always think that?   Compulsive about some things, indifferent about others.  Disconnects.

There are lots of “disorders” or labels for these behaviours or reactions.   Such disorders as: Depersonalization disorder,  Attachment disorder,  post-traumatic stress syndrome — just to name a few.  I think when we finally muster the courage to tell our story, to tell the truth, to risk being vulnerable enough to tell what happened, we begin to travel on the road of healing.  Telling on our abuser might happen first and then down the road we  finally admit the need for help, and  then get determined  to ask for it, we can finally begin experiencing healing and understanding.

We come to a turning point when we can admit or acknowledge we have a problem or problems with our responses to things/people/situations.  It’s then that we can resolve to make changes — to let the LORD work His work in us — to heal us as we yield to His work and redemption.

Connecting bridges to nowhere.

Over the years I’ve been so blessed to have the husband I have.  I believe God sweetly and mercifully gave me the husband He did.  He’s the one who will help me when the bridges to nowhere seem so  true and the nowhere seems so real — the one who helps me connect the dots, so to speak.

Truth.  I think that’s the most important matter for adult survivors of CSA — to face truth.  Determine to think truth.  Determine to perceive truth.  Determine to believe truth.  Determine to live truth.  Determine to trust truth.  These are big.  These are big dots.  I’ve come to understand and believe these are sort of the  imperatives for “survival.”  Over and over again deceit will creep in — and deceit is a big creep!  Deceit will convince you to believe things you would, ordinarily, absolutely reject as false — but in that weak moment you give in and believe the lies.

Thus, rejecting lies becomes, or must become, one of the highest priorities for  me (or for  other women) to survive the fallout of CSA.  Is this true?  Is this what the Bible tells me?  Is this from the LORD?  Is this what the Lord says/thinks about me?  Is this God’s clear plan for me?   If the answer to any of those questions is ever, No, then I have to act on my resolve to answer/react with Truth.

Emotional bridges to nowhere need to become connected by, and to, truth.

I’ve made it my personal “mission” or pursuit to pick a Truth to stand on and, when faced with deceit, look for another Truth to connect to.  Eliminating the concepts “never” and “can’t” are imperative.   I must not say: I never do this right. I must not say: I can’t ever get past this. In faith, I can — through Christ alone who strengthens me: I can.  I can love, I can trust, I can hope, I can rest, I can commit to this or that thing or person.

CSA causes an explosion and that explosion that’s hugely impacting and produces great fallout.  Sometimes, years down the road, that fallout triggers seemingly unexplainable reactions — can an adult survivor of CSA overcome the fallout?   In faith, I trust so.  In Jesus, I believe so.

 

A special birthday

When Timothy was born, there was a brief hush over the delivery room — enough time for me to realize there must be a problem.  Fearing the worst, I asked my husband if the baby had died.  No, he said, he’s going to be fine.

As Timothy was born, the doctor could see that the cord was wrapped around his next and as he  loosened it, it was obvious that there was also a complete knot in his umbilical cord the hush was their surprise that he was just quiet and still — completely fine.  The team of attendants appeared to be amazed.  The doctor inserted an instrument into the knot, shaking it loose, and then continued to gently massage his little body.  He told me that that knot had been there for many months as that “little guy” must’ve turned himself around and swum through the loop of the cord.

The next morning, as the doctor was making his rounds, he came in to check on me and baby Timothy.  You are so lucky, he said.  And I told him, no… no, I’m really very blessed.  God has been so good to me.  I knew that then.  I know that now.  Out the window that morning I could see a lone daffodil in a planter… the ‘tea-cup’ flower had just opened.  It was a bright encouragement to me — and the site of blooming daffodils continues to bless me over the years – for that  and so many other event’s meanings.

And so, today, twenty three years later I’m still in awe at what the Lord has done in the life of that baby – now young man.  There have been many instances through the years where the Lord clearly marked his life — times of sickness, times of great spiritual growth, times of God’s clear hand of guidance, direction and protection.  From a very young age, this young man had a clear and present awareness of the Lord’s call on his life – a matter that Timothy continually shared with others.

And he has answered that call and for many years has walked by faith in the ministry of the Gospel.

I have no greater joy than
to hear that my children
walk in truth.
3 John 1.4

It is with great joy that we celebrate this son’s birthday today — and, happily, we’ll even celebrate it with him this year as it’s been many years since he’s been home on his birthday!    He flies in late tonight!

We’re thankful the Lord has used him so sweetly in our family… that He’s used him in Ghana and now in Mexico.  Today we’re reminiscing as we recall the many blessings of the Lord through the years, the many ways God’s worked on his behalf, many ways God has uniquely gifted and provided.  We thank the Lord for the many times He’s healed Timothy from various sicknesses, from many bouts of malaria and the many adventures God’s brought him through.  We also recall, with tears of joy and humble thanksgiving, the great miracle of healing the Lord gave Timothy last summer.

Timothy is a joy to me… to us all.  For all of this — for the gift of his life, for him, for all these miracles — we are so grateful to the Lord.

 

The Love of the Truth

Can you believe we’re living in these days?  That in the history of the world — His-story — we’re alive in these days!  Remarkable!  Truly remarkable!  These thoughts and more came to me while reading in 2 Thessalonians 2 and elsewhere today.

All over the world there are great surges of sensational events  — and they truly are worldwide; the world is in chaos.  And the catastrophes  are piling up!  The multifaceted cataclysmic tragedy in Japan seems to me to be a great picture of these days — especially within the church.

And a subtle, but similar rumbling is afoot in the church today —  the  resulting conclusion will be the same: mass decimation.  Great spiritual death is occurring as the church succumbs more and more to great delusions (this example is but one).  People are seeking answers  for the  troubling questions they face and all too often are grasping and believing the most detrimental teachings to come along in the church.

 

The church — not separated from the world, believes worldly answers — easy answers given by the smooth teachers (especially when these teachers are well known and “popular” in bookstores and other Christian circles.

For what is a man profited, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul? or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul?”
Matthew 16.26

Thus, mainstream preachers teach lies to appease the masses by teaching easy stuff, entertaining the flocks, tickling ears with provocative messages.   Then, selling millions of books, deceiving great multitudes… giving in to the great lies of pride and humanistic thought they lead millions to believe great deceptions.

And with all deceivableness of unrighteousness in them that perish; because they received not the love of the truth, that they might be saved.”
2 Thessalonians 2.10

The church is but one example, though,  because, in reality,  it’s seeming as though the whole world’s going completely mad.  Consider the great moral decline, the lack of sanctity of marriage, motherhood and human life.   Add to all that, the duping of America by those elected to lawfully govern — the empty promises, the great fallacy of budgeting by redistributing ill-gotten  funds, the preposterous demands, the assumption of entitlement and the fighting over non-existent  funds. Upside-down…

And even as they did not like to retain God in their knowledge, God gave them over to a reprobate mind, to do those things which are not convenient;” Romans 1.28

Relationships are out of balance —  if you’ve not experienced tension, misunderstandings, disappointment in relationships lately, don’t be surprised if/when you do so.   That cataclysmic tragedy in Japan yesterday is on a greater scale what’s happening in marriages, families, friendships and churches.

More 2 Thessalonians 2.1-5

Now we beseech you, brethren, by the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ, and by our gathering together unto him,  2  That ye be not soon shaken in mind, or be troubled, neither by spirit, nor by word, nor by letter as from us, as that the day of Christ is at hand. 3   Let no man deceive you by any means: for that day shall not come, except there come a falling away first, and that man of sin be revealed, the son of perdition; 4  Who opposeth and exalteth himself above all that is called God, or that is worshipped; so that he as God sitteth in the temple of God, shewing himself that he is God. 5  Remember ye not, that, when I was yet with you, I told you these things?

You can continue reading your own Bible…  as you look at things from a spiritual perspective, you’ll believe you’re reading the front page of the daily newspaper.

And there shall be signs in the sun, and in the moon, and in the stars; and upon the earth distress of nations, with perplexity; the sea and the waves roaring; Men’s hearts failing them for fear, and for looking after those things which are coming on the earth: for the powers of heaven shall be shaken.”
Luke 21. 25-26

And now, one of my favourite words in the Bible — beside the word “but” —  is the word, “therefore.”

Therefore, brethren, stand fast, and hold the traditions which ye have been taught, whether by word, or our epistle.  Now our Lord Jesus Christ himself, and God, even our Father, which hath loved us, and hath given us everlasting consolation and good hope through grace,  Comfort your hearts, and stablish you in every good word and work.”   2 Thess 2.15-17

I pray as I write this that I would be — that we would be — recommitted to “retaining the truth” and that we would increase, cultivate and reaffirm our “love for the Truth” and that the Lord God would be merciful with us all as we rededicate ourselves to the  great calling on our lives, to seek to serve Him more faithfully, to love the brethren and to proclaim His salvation to those who are perishing.

Then help me learn…

So many times — so many times over the years I’ve asked the Lord to help me learn… Lord, help me learn from this expensive lesson.  Lord, I know the situation I’m in is from You… help me learn.  Lord, if You have handed me this experience… then help me learn.  Lord, even if I say to You, I cannot do this, please do not leave me to myself… please help me learn.

These have been the pleas of my heart many, many times through the years.

There have been many “monuments of trust” or markers of faith in my life  prior to, and since, a  significant, pivotal point of trusting in the Lord.  It  actually came  through a series of events,  taking me quite by surprise, some fourteen years ago when my husband experienced a terrible injury to his hand.  With a newborn babe in my arms,  I entered the emergency room that morning and upon seeing my husband’s condition, I immediately said: All God’s ways are good. That phrase would intensify in meaning for me over the days, weeks and months ahead. I would say it over and over again; I would pray it and I would write it on our windows.

All God’s Ways are Good

Financially speaking, that event came at the lowest point in our “work year” in the swimming pool business — February.  In the Pacific Northwest, the swimming pool business-year is relatively brief and by  February, nearly every year, most every dollar’s been spent, most all the supplies have dwindled and doubts about how things will be taken care of begin to creep in.  Well, for that year, in particular, such was the case.

But God.  But God who is rich in mercy, and the love wherewith He loves us, saw us through.  My husband’s  hand, after much reconstructive surgery and minus an index finger,  took months to heal.  Even if jobs had come to him, he couldn’t have completed them at that time — but there was never a day that we did not know the clear presence and provision of the LORD — His mercies were new to us every morning and His grace saw us through.

It was then that I learned to see what some of you hear me say from time to time:  This is so big, God must be in it. For it was, to us, at the time… so big.  It was then, also, that I began to pray for the Lord to help me learn from this (and numerous other experiences), saying, Lord, this lesson is so expensive:  Lord, please help me learn what You have for me to learn in this.

And so it’s been through the years… lesson after lesson, experience after experience, that I have sought *in the trial* or *in the testing of faith* to ask the Lord:  I know You’ve given this to me, I know You’ve handed this to me,  Lord, help me learn…

One Monday afternoon, a number of weeks after his accident, a couple of friends stopped in for a visit. And as they were leaving and saying goodbye’s, they handed Wes an envelope — which, after they left, he handed to me, saying: This is for you! You see, just the day before, my husband had put a sum of money in the offering plate at church — many different people had given us financial gifts totaling more than we needed that week and so Wes offered it in thanksgiving to the Lord.  I had said, what if we need it next week?  He said, God will provide.

Well, you can see where this is going.  I went to the window that stormy afternoon, and while standing there, I looked out and much to my astonishment, there were daffodils ringing the huge old willow tree in our yard.  I’d not even noticed them before that moment. Further, since that was the first winter for us here in our home, I didn’t even know there were bulbs planted around the willow tree.  Looking back, it was as if the Lord had kept them covered until that day.  Surely, the Lord was  ministering to my heart that day. Seeing those daffodils just beginning to bloom was like seeing the promise of Springtime to come.  In tears of gratefulness, I opened the envelope — it contained the exact same amount of money Wes had  placed in the offering just the day before.  The men who had brought it had no way of knowing about the offering made the day prior.  God had clearly provided.  O Lord, help me to learn…

Help me to learn to trust in You.
Help me to learn to wait on You.
Help me to learn to hope in You.
Help me to learn to keep my eyes fixed on You.

Help me to learn  what You would have me to learn in each experience You hand me.  And help me to learn to accept Your will and way for my life.  With joy.  Whatever comes: Lord, help me to learn.