Category: my story

Floundering

Have you stopped to consider that even when you’re floundering, or feel as though you are, God is still present, still at work on your behalf, still working all things together for good according to His mercy (His great-great mercy!)? That is, for our/your good and His glory (His great, great glory).  Throughout these last few years I’ve surely seen day to day proof of this. His mercy. His great, great mercy. His great mercy *even* in my floundering. God’s not thwarted by our floundering and He’s not thwarted in our striving. He’s not thwarted or diminished in our thriving. Imagine that! Nothing, absolutely nothing we do thwarts the work — the incredible, indescribable, unfathomable work — of God.

We may think (I have thought) that God’s not deeply moved by the inconsequential things that really get to us — things that, in light of eternity, truly are inconsequential. But they feel big.  They feel so big! To us. They feel insurmountable to us. They may even feel like “the end” to us. But to God? No. Nothing’s impossible for Him. Nothing’s insurmountable to Him. Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

I know this. I’ve seen this. I’ve lived this. I’m living it still. Nothing. Absolutely nothing is tooooo hard for the Lord. He is at once our Creator, our Sustainer, our Provider, our Deliverer, our Redeemer, our Guide, and He is our Lord. At once. All at once. And yet. And yet I dare to say: I flounder, Lord, I’m floundering!

And He sees it. He knows it. He allows it. And… He is bringing me through it. Through it all, all this floundering. Through this long time of floundering.  And He carries me. Still. That’s how loving and merciful the Lord is. To me, to you, to us all.

He says: “Be still and know that I am God…” And I trust Him. I trust him to see me through this floundering, this season of floundering. And I trust Him for the fruit of it all.

John 12.24 “Verily, verily, I say unto you, Except a corn of wheat fall into the ground and die, it abideth alone: but if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit…”

As I write this, I pray that whoever reads this will be encouraged to press on… to carry on in faith that the Lord is allowing a season of floundering for your good and His glory. For your good and for the good of another who might be floundering. Maybe you’re a woman standing at a crossroads.  Maybe you’re longing for peace, for redemption, for wholeness, for Truth, and for life. God’s not willing that ANY should perish but that ALL would come to repentance and follow Him as Lord. It’s that simple. It’s the truth. Jesus is standing at the door.  He is the Way, the Truth, and the Life… no one comes to the Father but by Him.

Regretful Years: IBLP/ATI

  Drinking from my saucer bcz my cup’s overflowed.  But that doesn’t mean regretful things don’t resurface and flood my mind from time to time. And my mind surely is flooded these days.

 

From March 2014

The Welcome Home

For a few months we had been inching toward the sale of our home. One year ago today was the first of three days of showings. We’d been blindly taking steps forward, guided by the unseen Hand. 

Now over twenty five years ago we were looking for a home that would be just right for our growing family. “Looking” is far too weak. We were searching, yearning, praying for such a home. We searched and searched—drove around day after day looking for that forever home.  It had been suggested that I make a list of things I hoped the home would have. I made that list. I still have it, somewhere tucked in the pages of an old journal.

A series of events led us to drive through our town and notice a small sign on a post: For Sale By Owner. It’s a sweet, memorable story… the home had most every single thing on the list: a porch, a Willow Tree, enough bedrooms, a clawfoot tub, a large kitchen, land, space, a shop… We bought the forever home—the just right home for our growing family. And it was; it was just right. And one year ago today, after the For Sale sign went into the ground, dozens and dozens of showings began. I look back on that day now with melancholy reflection and no small measure of regret. But that Unseen Hand? That Unseen Hand was guiding us. And though I still do not have gladness in my heart about the decision, I do have a small measure of peace. Peace that it was God’s plan and peace that further along we’ll know more about it…

At the end of the lane where that original For Sale sign was posted, and then 25 years later, our own, is a ‘Dead End’ sign. It was always going to be a dead end, but I’m sure never ever saw it that way. I saw it with eyes of joy and a heart full of gratitude. It was The Welcome Home… our forever home.

When we moved into that home, I wrote on the front door: Welcome Home.  Thus, it was named. It became the theme of that home… for in that home we welcomed three more babies, raised our eleven children, ran a swimming pool business, we took in several who needed a place to live, we fed strangers and friends, hosted Bible studies and a house-church, had huge gatherings, weddings and memorials, ate fruit from the trees and vegetables from the garden, grew flowers, made wedding cakes, birthday cakes, a gazillion cookies, thousands and thousands of meals and so much more.  So much more.

But it is the memories of mornings sitting on the porch beside the enormous Willow tree, in what we adoringly called the Garden of Eden, that make me teary today. We’d become nearly “empty-nesters” the last year there and that porch was kind of an oasis, a sanctuary of sorts, for us.

I purposely did not blog this whole event nor much of anything else for nearly a year now.  I was journaling accounts of each day — for which I’m very grateful now. As I’ve looked back, I’ve read the many grievous, heart-rending accounts of all that happened after we accepted the first and then the second offer and the months between the sale and the move away from that dear home.

I haven’t been back to our home—the once beautiful ‘slice of heaven’ with its majestic trees has been forever changed, destroyed, really, but it’s a new year, it’s time to move on. What’s done is done. The beauty and majesty of The Welcome Home is but a precious memory now.  I must note that our buyer loves the home, has big plans and dreams for The Lost Willow Farm. I’m glad.

 

 

Hope

In the late 70,s/early 80’s my husband and I were involved in a couple of multi level marketing companies/programs. What we experienced in those days is still being used of the Lord to guide us today.  We had no idea at the time that our thoughts and ideals were being shaped by some teachings that were anything but Biblical. But it all sure seemed to be at the time. And then it didn’t. We were never positive enough,

The Power of Positive Thinking, PMA or Positive Mental Attitude, were a couple of buzz phrases of the day, and positively, we were thinking positively. We, along with our friends from church, became well versed in the ‘think and grow rich’ or ‘what you believe, you can achieve’ ideologies. It all felt so great — the enthusiasm, the patriotism, and the high moral standards and behaviour we saw exhibited. The “Soap Company” was squeaky clean and we were all in. Until we weren’t.

I share all that, in part, to say that there’s nothing new under the sun. What was buzzing in those days continued and is buzzing today. The words may not be the same, but the motivation and the intent are the same. You Got This, You are enough. I am more than enough. You are deserving. I am deserving… you get the idea. More of the positive mental attitude that puts self in control, or self as the priority—seemingly regardless one’s circumstances.

I wrote the above portion of this entry one year ago. One year ago at the dawn of the New Year 2021. A new year that was filled with unknowns. I’m not sure why I didn’t complete this blog entry — perhaps I had a subconscious knowing that I had absolutely no idea where to take the “positive mental attitude” concept in a time I had anything but a positive mental attitude.  In many ways, less so, now.

I just finished a book by Kate Bowler, No Cure For Being Human (and other truths I need to hear). Early in the book as she’s describing one of her many stays in hospital, she shares an exchange regarding books in the hospital gift shop. Prominently displayed was Joel Osteen’s book Your Best Life Now. Kate had just had one of a number of major surgeries related to invasive cancer.  She commented to the shop’s manager that that book (and a whole stack of other Christian bestsellers she’d piled on the floor) was not suitable to be sold in a hospital.

I’m almost embarrassed to say that I laughed out loud reading that — given her devastating condition. Yet, it was that very condition that gave her the perspective—and the authority—to make such a bold declaration.  Throughout the book I found various observations of life’s absurdities to be so instructive.

I’ve been reflecting on the adage, You don’t know what you don’t know.  It takes a whole lot of living to really get the deep meaning of old adages — though we so often readily agree with them. In theory. Over the the past year as I’ve wallowed in grief, depression, regret, disappointment and more emotions than I could possibly have been able to understand, I’ve been assured that things will get better, or to look on the bright side, or a host of other well meant assurances. Maybe I just needed to browse the Christian Bookstore’s best seller section and read the glowing titles.  Or not.

What I do know is that each morning as I’ve opened the Word, I’ve been met right where I’m at. I’ve been met by hard truths and gentle persuasion, affirmations of God’s loving kindness, tender mercy and His Providential care.  As I embark on this new year, I do so with hope.  Not necessarily hope for my best life now, but hope in the Living God who does all things well. And loves me.

And you.  And in this year ahead, may we positively rejoice in Hope.

Life’s Greatest Hindrances are its Greatest Teachers

More and more I find that what I used to consider my greatest hindrances were, in fact, my greatest teachers.  I used to believe that my troubles were attributable to lack of finances and consequently, thought all of them could be solved by a surplus.  I considered disadvantages and often almost totally overlooked the great trust and creativity I was developing and gaining over the years.   I used to overlook what God was placing right before my eyes.  Troubled with how things were going to work out—crippled by fear that they wouldn’t, days were difficult and money seemed scarce.  Little did I know at the time that I would look back on the more difficult days and remember them with sort of fond, perhaps bittersweet, emotion.

I’m sorry for the young woman who was so fearful, but happy for the way the LORD did provide and for the ways she learned to cope, learned to be creative, learned to be hopeful, learned to trust and increased in faith.  But the younger woman who used to live in my shoes was often plagued by the “what will people think” albatross, and was shackled by doubts and insecurities – as I suppose we all are from time to time, but when they become interwoven in every thought, they’re like that heavy, paralyzing albatross.  The LORD worked through all those sorts of situations and blessed me with a sort of “blindness” to my situation— a sort of “rose coloured glasses” tenor to my life—and brought me through those valleys.  I began to see things less and less for what they were and more and more for what I hoped they would be.  Sure, the lack of finances still was a hindrance, but I stopped allowing myself to feel as though that defined me or my family.  I decided to stop getting tripped up in the trappings of the have’s and have not’s in life—they weren’t helping me.  I decided to not let my possessions define who I am—other people may have judged me in that manner—but I never wanted to be that shallow and I knew the LORD didn’t want that for me either.  He was taking me through the school of contentment.  Had I not had lack or loss, I’d not have learned to be very creative with what I do have.  I suppose I might’ve become smug or assume it was my doing when there were increases or “successes.”  I surely know that whatever good has come, whatever gain I’ve experienced: successes, benefits or blessings have all been of the LORD.

Some of the deepest valleys produced the richest fruit and it’s faith from those lessons that has guided me through the more recent years and the struggles or trials we’ve faced.  When trails have been forged or mountains scaled, the path is a bit less daunting each time it’s traversed. And with each passing, faith is strengthened and trust is deepened.  With each passing year, the have’s and the have not’s are less and less noticeable to me and my concern is less self-focused.   Pride is an ugly thing I came to see, for it is often pride that keeps us from living and giving—pride is that gripping thing that prevents us from being transparent, from being open and vulnerable.  We all have it to some degree or another and sometimes, when we very least anticipate it, pride wells up and swallows us. Gains and losses are the great equalizers in life—they happen to all of us.

Because I know my Redeemer lives and ever lives to make intercession for me —for us—I know that I can trust Him beyond a shadow of doubt: that what He has promised to do, that will He do. He promised to never leave me nor forsake me and He promises in His Word that He will complete that which He has begun.

So the LORD has used trials as teachers, loss as gain, and lack: to fill me.  His faithfulness is great, His mercies have been new every morning.

 Quintessential Motherhood

Throughout the week I wonder what the LORD would have me to write. In an attempt to convey a message from my heart, I have the usual distactions.  Distractions, buzzers, timers, calls, the dryer’s beep-beep-beep, the knocking at the back door… distractions.  And then I thought: distractions? No: life.  Life is what’s happening when we’re waiting and planning for something else to happen.  And then I think on this further and wonder: is this the story of my motherhood experience?  Has it all happened while I was waiting for something else to happen?  Have the days passed by while I was looking for a brighter tomorrow or a better way of doing things?  While hurry-scurrying around, gathering, sorting, washing, folding, packing… suddenly the time comes.

Suddenly the time-clock runs out and this game is over or the hour comes for the leaving…  This is quintessential motherhood.

Years ago, I came inside from the chilly porch where I hugged one of our sons and waved him good-bye-for-now as he drove away. The darkness was giving way to light with the early morning sun casting a pink glow on the snow, tears flooded my eyes and instantly, all the compelling rush was completely forgotten in the haze of the exhaust and the taillights slowly dimming in the distance. I stood there in the cold-still waving… the asl sign for i-love-you… and found myself wondering—questioning—what significant thing had I contributed to that remarkable boy’s life?  Was there anything noteworthy?  All at once  I thought of many things I’d forgotten to remember—things I suddenly realized I meant to say.  Memories instantly flooded my mind — sort of like those endearing slideshows you see at weddings — the emotionally gripping photos that chronicle lives and bring tears and laughter simultaneously one frame after another.

Part of the calling of motherhood is that there will be suffering.  There will be days of joy and and days of sorrow.  Sort of that paradoxical truth that in every adversity there is triumph and in every joy there is an inextricable mix of delight and sorrow.  The sorrow part is the part we didn’t read in the fine print.  The sorrow part is one of the consequences of endearment — one of the consequences I didn’t perhaps expect when I first received the confirmation call from the doctor’s office or when we first saw the indicator lines in the home-pregnancy test kit.  No, in those days, we had no idea what lay ahead, what tears we’d shed or how many sleepless nights we’d spend waiting and walking.  Waiting for a child to return home or walking a crying baby from one end of the living room to the other: round and round.

No, in the early days, we had no idea what lay in store a few years down the road.  We had no grasp of where those first baby-steps would take those feet.  We had no concept that snow-tires would eventually replace those training wheels.  Even now, I probably have no real grasp of what the consequences of motherhood are.  Just as I can’t fathom the exhilaration of tremendous joy, I can’t fathom the plummeting sorrow—both are those inexplicable consequences of endearment and motherhood.

I’ve often said I wasn’t prepared for these years—the gripping anguish of regret and disappointment, the overwhelming joy proud moments bring and the unstoppable ticking of the clock and the turning of the calendar pages.  It seems new calendars are purchased more frequently now.  But in reality, nothing and everything prepared me for these days. The LORD has been with me, guiding, abiding and upholding me —preparing me for each of the next days He’s brought.  The preparation has been in the living. Bidding farewell to passing seasons and ushering in new ones prepares us for these goodbyes.

It’s quintessential motherhood: fully experiencing of all the seasons over and over. Experience, history… photographs and memories all prepare us for these goodbyes. As I look out at the morning glow on the snow… and then at the leafless, frost covered branches of my weeping willow tree, there’s sort of a melancholy hopeful looking forward to what this day will bring and how I’ll one day look back on this day.

I smile as I realize that with every good bye… there’s a welcome home.  In the end, the true joy is looking to the ultimate welcome home.

May the LORD bless you and bless you in your home today.

The Eternal God is thy Refuge

The days seem long but the years are quickly passing. As I typed that, I recalled saying something similar in the early years of motherhood: the days are long and the weeks fly by. 

I never thought about the swift passage of time in terms my own mortality but in terms of our children growing taller, learning new things—getting older. Now I think of them as young —in their 20’s, 30’s and 40’s— so much life ahead while our years are swiftly slipping away.

Early on, older women would tell me to enjoy the children while they’re young, it’ll go so fast; or, these are the good old days.  I remember nodding and smiling in agreement (I had no idea!).  Some fifteen or twenty years ago I began to tell weary mothers they’d one day cry for those days. I meant it then.  And I really mean it now. The years went by so quickly; our eleven children are all grown now… so are a couple of our grandchildren.

In the ten year trap of depression I’ve done more looking back than looking ahead — the regrets of former days, the regrets of what was and wasn’t done, what was and wasn’t said encircled me in an abyss of defeat. The cycle repeated daily like a broken record skipping and repeating. It still could if I weren’t vigilant——and for that reason, among others, I resolve to stay vigilant.

The Word says the Lord’s mercies are new every morning. And, for me, God’s proven that to be so.

“As thy days, so shall thy strength be…
The eternal God is thy refuge
and underneath are the everlasting arms…”
—Deuteronomy 33.25, 27

Strength today and bright hope for tomorrow,
great is His faithfulness.

And great His faithfulness has been!  His faithfulness is great. Great. On the bright days (and there have been many!) and on the dark days (and there have been many!).  Learning to take every thought captive, to be vigilant to watch for that roaring lion lurking about seeking to destroy, to be patient in the process has borne rich fruit.  Interestingly, as I write this we’re in a testing of faith, a stretching of faith, a s-t-r-e-n-g-t-h-e-n-i-n-g of faith!  Truly, we are learning to “count it all joy!”  And surely, there’s nothing like a trial or a test to fortify and/or verify one’s faith.

Whatever’s happening round about you or me, one thing I know: God is only good all the time.

Over the last decade of deep valleys and bright mountaintops the constant is the Word of God.  Truth always wins. Truth always defeats the foe. Truth always sets free. Prayer is peace. The Word of God is life.

“Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true,
whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just,
whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely,
whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue,
and if there be any praise, think on these things.”
pips 4.8

“Have not I commanded thee? Be strong and of a good courage;
be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed:
for the LORD thy God is with thee whithersoever thou goest.”
Joshua 1.9

The Gathering

The gathering happened and afterward I returned home again  to my warm, comfortable, familiar, safe haven.  Now, nearly two weeks later, I look back with heartfelt gratefulness.  It was such a stretch for me, but I’m so glad I met the people I did and am thankful for the messages that were shared.

Over the years I’ve headed women’s ministries, Bible studies, retreats, and other church events. So I totally get the gatherings deal and the sincerest efforts to create a space where women will gather, feel the love, be ministered to, and not feel like they’re on the outside. I know the planning that goes into making each woman feel as though the evening was planned specially for her.  I’ve worked at fine tuning programs to include levity, food, chocolate, and messages that touch the heart, to stir responses and affirmations of faith, joy and hope.

That gathering had those elements—by design or incidentally. It was beautiful, warm and welcoming—and the food was delicious. I now recognize that I’ve longed for such a gathering—to feel the familiar and to receive much needed encouragement.

I’ve reflected on the blessings of the warm conversations and the messages of each of the speakers and much inspiration has come from the things they shared.  And since I began writing this entry it’s occurred to me that I’m so not alone in longing for fellowship such as was visibly demonstrated in the elements of that gathering.

And upon further reflection, I’m sure there’re older moms just like me—moms who find themselves journeying along in the midst of moms who aren’t in this next season yet—this season of moms who’ve raised families, who are dealing with adult children, grandchildren, aging parents, aging issues themselves, regrets, desire to still be useful and on and on.

Maybe, like me, you attend a church where younger moms fill the positions of leadership and are beyond busy with activities and programs for women and all the children—you know, doing all the stuff we used to do. And now, we are the older women we used to tell to ‘rest and enjoy, we’ve got it handled, thank you.’ And the older women faded into the margins. And eventually died… along with their stories.

I so don’t want that to be me and I don’t want that to be you.

So, hopefully this blog might minister to older moms-of-many in need of the same encouragement I’ve been desiring.  I’ll keep using this platform and the ACH site I’ve had for over 20 years… I’ll endeavour to write more regularly and hopefully minister to those longings… and encourage us both to stay in the game!  It’s taken me ten years of climbing out of regret to resolutely determine to not be super-glued to failures and disappointments. They’ve been emotionally paralyzing me from being able to confidently move ahead.  And to dare to go to a gathering of “strangers!” I’m so glad I jumped off that highdive!

“Not that I have already obtained this or am already perfect,
but I press on to make it my own,
because Christ Jesus has made me His own.
Brothers, I do not consider that I have made it my own.
But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind
and straining forward to what lies ahead,
I press on toward the goal for the prize
of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.
Let those of us who are mature think this way,
and if in anything you think otherwise,
God will reveal that also to you.
Only let us hold true to what we have attained.”
philippians 3.12-16 esv

Jumping Off The High Dive

Now, many decades ago, I climbed the steep steps up to the high dive at our local community pool in Southern California where I was raised. I’d been swimming most all my life (it was a given that most all the homes had a swimming pool) and from a young age I was able to dive and do back flips, etc., off the diving board. I wasn’t afraid of the water or the depth of pools.  But the high dive was daunting. So high. I don’t recall how long it took me to muster the courage to mount those steps or to walk to the end of the board. I know it was not brief. But I did it… I walked to the end of the board and jumped.  As I recall, the water initially felt like hitting a hard surface and then, suddenly, I was down and swimming up to the pool ledge.  And, climbing out, I jumped again.

I thought of this recently when I decided to look into attending a local gathering. I saw the opportunity and instantly wanted to go. I mean, really wanted to go.  And, I had (have) no idea exactly why!  I read the information, and as I read, those old steps began to look daunting and the whole thing too big, too high. Too high for me. I closed my computer and determined not to think of the matter any longer.  A few days passed and I was drawn to consider the event again. What was drawing me to this event? I don’t honestly know — but I know this, if I don’t jump in somewhere, sometime, I’m kinda worried I’ll never “swim” again. My consideration led me to write to one of my daughters… and in so doing I threw out the idea that I’d like to go to this gathering — and described it to her. I was shocked {but not at all surprised} that she wrote back with a, heck yes, I’ll go with you… I’ll pick you up!

Had I been told, ten years ago exactly, that this would be happening as it is, I’d never have believed it. Sincerely, not in a million years.

So now I’m standing at the top of the steps, but not to the end of the board. It’s high and the stretch to the end of the board is long, and in a day I’ll walk to the end of the board and jump into our daughter’s car and go to the gathering.

I’d like to tell you about it all… and I will.

Thanks Giving Is Here

[cp_dropcaps]T[/cp_dropcaps]hanksgiving is here, I heard someone exclaim. And one might immediately wonder how it came so quickly again this year.  I mull this over (and, yes, I do marvel that another Thanksgiving is already upon us), I think: Is Thanks-giving here? I mean… here, here.  Here in my heart, here in my life, here in my thoughts and in my words.

I stop and take a mental inventory of my days of late. How thankful have I been–or have I displayed thankfulness at all? Is thanks g-i-v-i-n-g a characteristic plainly obvious in my life? Is thanks giving part of my everyday conversation? Is thanks giving the tone my ready reply?

And let the peace of God rule in your hearts,
to the which also ye are called in one body;
and be ye thankful.
Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly in all wisdom;
teaching and admonishing one another in psalms
and hymns and spiritual songs,
singing with grace in your hearts to the Lord.
And whatsoever you do in word or in deed,
do all in the name of the Lord Jesus,
giving thanks to God and the Father by Him.
Colossians 3.15-17

I was looking through some old photos this morning and it was there that I really got to thinking about thanks giving and what a thankful or thanks-giving life looks like. It’s easy in the moment (when things are going well, supplies are ample and health is strong and full) to be thankful.  It’s another thing to be thankful or giving thanks when things aren’t going so well — when the yets of God aren’t yet (I’ll write on that another day).

It’s also pretty normal to consider one’s current state of affairs when feeling thankful or not. But those photos I was looking through changed my perspective quite a bit.

 

These photos are 10 years old. I’m thankful for this… all this. All the children living at home at the time, gallons of milk, heaps of food, piles of laundry, hundreds of thousands of miles on the fifteen passenger van and on and on. Thankful, really thankful.

Fast forward to today… less and fewer of everything… more and greater of so many other things.   In between the more and fewer are sicknesses, health, losses, weddings, funerals, births, disappointments, achievements, mistakes, graduations and countless other life events that have clearly shown the great grace of God — things for which to give thanks. Much thanks.  Had all these various things not happened, I’d not known the vastness of the graces of God and how to be thankful, or how to give thanks in/for adversity, loss, failure and regret.

So, this Thanksgiving, this time of giving thanks, I’m truly thankful, very thankful. Thanks giving is here for me. I trust it is for you as well. Or, soon will be.