You can read the post: The Dash-lights in Marriage there and also take some time to browse/bookmark her site for numerous encouraging articles along with various resources for you and [...]]]> I have the honour of  “guest posting” today at Jennifer’s Renewing Housewives site.

You can read the post: The Dash-lights in Marriage there and also take some time to browse/bookmark her site for numerous encouraging articles along with various resources for you and your family).

I write what I’m learning… I share what I see, what I experience, what God is teaching me.  You know; through a [...]]]> You know I’ve written about internet addition… e-mail… group list mail addiction… AOL… Geocities… One-List… eGroups… screen addiction… information addiction… whatever could be looked up… early on: Ask Jeeves. Bling.  Ask him… ask him anything.  Then Yahoo, then Google… click, click, click… Bling.  You’ve got mail… Bling!  Click, click, click… Blogs! Bling!  Facebook. Bling! Pinterest. Bling!

I write what I’m learning… I share what I see, what I experience, what God is teaching me.  You know; through a series of trials, disappointments and losses I was presented face to face with the reality that I was/am an internet addict.  By the grace of God and through the love of my husband, I had to face this reality and, after some time had passed, learn to make changes — and when it was obvious I could not be self governing, I had to have boundaries — literal restrictions — placed on my computer.  Like a drug addict, I am powerless over media.  And… like a drug addict, I didn’t realize what was going on around me, nor did I realize I was causing others to resent me — the time I was spending online and the time I  was not spending with them.  And guess what the fruit of this was/is?  Yes… in many ways, family and friends addicted to media.  That is not sweet fruit.

So… I implore you today.  Get fences.  Get restrictions on your media.  Get pruned.  Get staked.  Learn to live within the boundaries so that you will be more fruitful, more fragrant, more productive… You’ll see.  And you’ll be amazed.

Two years ago, when I handed my computer to my husband, I knew I had to come to grips with internet addiction/family hurts and my walk with the LORD.  Then, months later, when I had worked through and walked through where I was, what I’d done and what I needed to do: my one hour’s use per day almost seemed like a worse prison than no computer use per day… but that time was actually a school of prayer and more repentance, more revelation of what had happened (and why it happened) and what needed to happen.  What I thought was a punishment was a blessing.  What I thought was too hard was actually a marvelous mercy.  What I thought was too restrictive has become my greatest freedom.

Now, as in this little window of allocated/measured time, I have freedom — permission — blessing — to use this computer and I can choose to use the time to browse,  listen to sermons, to research,  to read/write devotionals, blogs, connect with my children and friends… bcz I’m in step with the plan for my days.  It’s freeing.  This humbling limitation has given me so much assurance and freedom.

It’s joked about sometimes around here — this restriction — and it reminds me of people’s comments to me early on when we only had one vehicle for many years and my husband was gone all day.  I could walk to the store for my groceries — returning with what could be carried or hung on the stroller.  It was freeing to me to not “run around” in the car — to plan my days and outings, to live within those boundaries.  I didn’t always know it and probably couldn’t appreciate it.  But I know and appreciate it now.  These things affirm to me that God never wastes a thread.

It’s especially easy to forget things in a moment of panic, in the tyranny of the urgent or after a long span of time. Or, in an obituary. Or at a memorial service.

I’m thinking you know what I mean.  Attending numerous funerals and memorial services through the years has kept this thought pretty fresh in my mind.  Time has a way of softening rough edges in some relationships [...]]]> It’s easy to forget some things — many things — really.

It’s especially easy to forget things in a moment of panic, in the tyranny of the urgent or after a long span of time. Or, in an obituary. Or at a memorial service.

I’m thinking you know what I mean.  Attending numerous funerals and memorial services through the years has kept this thought pretty fresh in my mind.  Time has a way of softening rough edges in some relationships — sharpening them in others — and has a way of distorting things when the accumulation of days, experiences and memories ceases.

It’s sometimes necessary to overlook things at that point.  You find yourself reasoning in your head: Look, the guy’s dead — let it go already.  Or, Okay, so he was a creep — he’s dead, pay your respects and move on.

You may find yourself glancing around the room of family and friends gathered to remember, gathered to grieve, gathered to console, gathered to laugh at the wonderful times, gathered to show support, gratitude or devotion.  Whatever the case, it’s interesting: all that goes on at such a time as a memorial service — or in the writing/reading of an obituary.  So much could be/must be/needs to be said.  And, usually, so much is forgotten overlooked when recounting the story of a life.  And, I suppose, in a sense, that’s how it should be — if tact or the preservation of personal dignity are the criteria for why what’s shared is (or isn’t) shared in the memorial and/or obituary.

Every now and then, however, the rest of the story is told.  You’ve probably experienced this from time to time — when someone dies and there’s a painful side to the relationships the person was involved in — or other self inflicted woes and regrets.  So, in those times, the honest and open, yet tactful, acknowledgement of basic realities brings healing to the ones closest to that individual.  Sometimes, the brief recounting of some of the struggles helps those who are grieving to make some sense of the tragedies or helps to bring closure to disappointments or whatever.  Somehow, being able to say: here’s how it went, here’s how it felt and now we go on, brings the beginning of healing — a turning point, perhaps, so that what was can be acknowledged and what can be can begin.

Interestingly, this past springtime  has brought many deaths — many opportunities to reflect on lives and the accomplishments, beliefs, decisions, etc., etc., of each of  those individuals.  The words preached, the sprinkling of laughter and tears, the memories shared at the different memorial services still play back in the theater of my thoughts — it seems almost daily,  the poignant memories, testimonies, etc.,  continue in the forefront of my mind.  I think that must be why the Scriptures tell us that is it is better to go to the house of mourning than to the house of mirth or feasting — for it seems to me that much instruction is found in the house of mourning.

Over the last couple of days you’ve no doubt been hearing, as I have, the many different accounts and tributes to the life of Chuck Colson, I read a very thoughtful and insightful article by Tim Challies. Brave one, he.  I’m linking to it — bcz he’s succinctly detailed some errors while remaining respectful.  O, sisters, there’s much we must learn — and, in this case, much we must discern from a life of significant influence, but also, a life that added a dimension of conflict and compromise regarding Biblical truths and, what I call, pragmatic faith: Faith that goes along to get along… and, yes, you guessed it: that’s not really true faith at all.  We’re seeing it (probably experiencing it) all over!  We don’t want to offend our neighbours, our family and friends.  We don’t want to come across as holier than Thou, we don’t want to be embarrassed or cause trouble.  But!  O, sisters, we must realize that hell is filled with un-offended neighbours, family and friends.  May we have courage to speak the Truth.  In love. With tact.

More than ever, we must be circumspect regarding what’s being taught as Truth and may the Lord help us be witnesses of His Truth.

Edit:
I know I took a real risk sharing as I did and commenting as I did regarding a couple of the errors in a life so influential and powerful.  I want to reiterate something that I think might’ve been lost and that is that he did do marvelous things and his contribution is significant and I don’t doubt his sincerity/faith/salvation/etc., etc. for one moment.  I only want to emphasize the tremendous impact of a life and how imperative it is to NOT compromise or live pragmatically/compromising regarding Biblical Truths.  When “religious” beliefs are in conflict with the Bible, we mustn’t err on the side of compromise, we must adhere to the Truths of the Word — and this will often NOT be popular and others will be offended.

Another birthday for one of our children.  Another day to reflect on the many blessings, provisions and calling of the Lord on this son’s life — the golden child, the brothers and sisters call him.   We all have a smile when someone says this or refers to him in this manner.  They all know they are — each one to me — a golden child, though they’d insist he is the golden child.  ~smile~

So another year, another [...]]]>  

Another birthday for one of our children.  Another day to reflect on the many blessings, provisions and calling of the Lord on this son’s life — the golden child, the brothers and sisters call him.   We all have a smile when someone says this or refers to him in this manner.  They all know they are — each one to me — a golden child, though they’d insist he is the golden child.  ~smile~

So another year, another birthday… another celebration that doesn’t look like one here tonight.  We’ll make up for it when he returns from Africa in a couple of months — but for now, we have had a day of reflection, stories and melancholy, misty eyes.  Well, maybe that was just me with the misty eyes most all day today.  It’s not that I want him to stay around here — I really don’t — but he’s such a delightful person… just missing him especially much today as I’ve been reflecting on the many things that have been particular to him.  I think back on his love for anything-pooh-bear to his love for a favourite blanket and the shiny blond hair of his younger years.  In those days his hair was cut much longer than he’d ever wear it today — in a “bowl cut” — the same style of haircut I gave to each of the other boys before and after him in their younger years.  Two brothers older and four younger than him.  Funny to hear them talk now of how they all loved their hair that way — what they don’t know is that it was the only cut for young boys I knew how to do very well.  I glanced at a pooh bear today…  stopping for a moment to remember… and smiled.

One of the wonderful advantages of the passage of time is that we accumulate many stories and  happy memories — these both bless us and bring us tears when a day such as this comes along.  And while we all miss him for as many different reasons as there’ve been minutes in this day, we’re blessed by the knowledge that he’s right where he ought to be.  And somehow, that makes everything perfect.  Just as a cake & ice cream would be the perfect thing to serve were he to be here at home tonight.

I’ve been reflecting on God’s tender preparations for me for these years — and in different ways, He’s actually prepared all of us for these days.  Showing Himself strong on our behalf, He’s orchestrated quite a mixture of joys and sorrows — gains and losses — working everything together for our good and His glory.  I see this more and more clearly as the years pass.

So, Timothy’s in Africa… adding another birthday to the number of birthdays he’s spent away from home.  I’ll get used to this — perhaps, in a way, I already am.  I think of the years he’s been in Mexico or in Africa and each time I recall, as I’ve done today, that there’s really no place I’d rather have him be.  In the hand of the Lord, anywhere in the world, is the safest and best place to be.   He’s there ministering to the saints, visiting different remote villages and participating in ministering and teaching in Bible seminars.  The opportunities have been a great source of joy and blessing to him as he spends time with old friends and new.  So you see how I could not wish for him to be here and miss all that.

Once again my heart is filled with thanksgiving — knowing I don’t deserve the great honour and privilege of all these years of motherhood.   My thoughts linger here tonight… thankful for  a son who’s in the gracious and merciful hand of the Lord.  God’s been so very kind to Timothy.

May you always be blessed. ♥