my story – Page 6 – The Welcome Home

One year ago…

Though in many ways it seems longer, it was a year ago today that the Lord gave us a great gift in the form of a miracle. We know it was by the grace of God that Timothy, who was deathly sick with cerebral malaria, awoke from a coma.

Our family had been at the Oregon Coast for a family reunion; Timothy had just returned from Ghana, West Africa. He was sick and getting worse by the day.

After several days and medication for what was thought to be Typhoid, his condition was grave, he was so thin and frail; hardly responsive at that point: we knew Timothy needed to get to a hospital right away. Clearly, the medication he was taking was not addressing his sickness. It was there after some initial treatment and many liters of fluids that Timothy was slipping into a coma and the doc in ER of Samaritan Hospital began the transfer plans to have Timothy airlifted to OHSU in Portland. I wrote the story of this whole miracle — you can read it here.

I don’t really know why I snapped the photo (below) with my cell phone that day… I guess it was perhaps a thought that it would be my last opportunity. I don’t know.

More from my journal that day: “I cannot be bitter should it be God’s plan to take Timothy.” I read a quote that afternoon inside Timothy’s Bible, “The sovereignty of God is a precious thing if you’re on the right side of it.”

Later, I wrote, “It’s the middle of the night… the waiting room looks strewn with sleeping bodies — all like me, waiting for news, waiting for the morning or maybe the mourning… It just struck me as the nurse told me to come back in 45 minutes, Timothy might not make it. We might leave here alone — without him. The thought leaves me unable to breathe.”

It’s a bright and sunny day… it’s now a year later. Timothy doesn’t remember much of that week, very little of the time in the hospital after he awoke and now, so much has transpired from that time to this.

Timothy has once again traveled to Mexico, to cities in the States for the gospel tent meetings and just returned from Ghana, West Africa. There is so much work to do, so many who need the gospel… the Lord is not yet finished with his servant, Timothy. I’m so thankful.

Time takes time

In my drafts bucket I have a whole bunch of half-begun and mostly unfinished drafts of letters and blog entries I intended to send or post. Many never get finished. I either don’t have time or I don’t have enough of the “rest of the story” in my head to complete the work. Usually, it’s the former, not the latter.

So, time takes time. I’ve said this to myself, to my children, to other women… I’ve thought this many, many times. I’ve usually thought this as a self-reminder when a situation seems to be unchanging or a problem seem to linger: give it time. We all know that things take time — wounds take time to heal, friendships take time to bloom, paint takes time to dry. But we’re impatient, aren’t we!?! We want what we want: now. We weary of waiting. We need answers. We must have resolution. We can’t wait another day… and on and on.

I recall saying many times: time heals all wounds (in my head I add, for personal entertainment: time wounds all heels). But then I mentally slap myself for retaliatory indulgence and determine not to think that thought again — for I sincerely do not wish to inflict injury on anyone – but can’t resist the play on words. And though I still believe that time heals all wounds, I think I’d better clarify that it’s not the passage of time that heals wounds — it’s what goes on in the passage of time that heals wounds. The Word and work of God heals wounds — and it seems He uses many things to do so. Faith heals wounds. A different perspective over time heals wounds. Repentance (ours or theirs) heals wounds. Humility heals wounds. Forgiveness (again, ours or theirs) heals wounds.

But it takes time. Things take time. Time takes time.

In the fall, we plant garlic. Preparing the soil takes time. Marking the rows takes time. Planting takes time. All through the winter, the ground looks barren. Nothing’s happening — or so it seems. In the spring, the little sprouts appear and by early summer the garlic looks mature enough to harvest. But it’s not. Not yet. It needs a little more time. Even after it’s harvested, we hang it up to dry… still more time passes. Time… takes time.

A couple of years ago I pruned, dug up, divided and replanted a very large hydrangea. It looked pitiful. Last year it, and the divided plants, looked pitiful, still, with its sparsely leafed, woody canes and no flowers at all. This year it’s filling out nicely — but still, no flowers. And it may well be that there’ll not be a single flower on the whole bush again this year. But it’s nicely shaped and its leaves are strong and full. Time. It just needs more time.

Life breaks and falls apart. Sometimes it’s relationships, sometimes things. When things in our lives break we learn to pick up the pieces, bond them together and patch the cracks. In time, we carefully begin to use the vessel again — this time, more patiently, more carefully — knowing from experience that the vessel is precious and the cracks have added much value to its worth.

Sometimes in life we get to experience the humbling reality with keen awareness that the broken thing was repaired not discarded. The Lord’s work, in time, healing all wounds.

So, in the passage of time — whether in the garden or in my home or in my heart — I’m learning that I must often stand still and let some time pass. I must stand still and see the salvation of the Lord in that circumstance. But in that standing still, I’m not just standing still. I’m waiting. I’m watching. I’m trusting. I’m yielding. I’m obeying. And, though it might look like nothing’s happening outwardly — the work that’s being done inwardly is priceless: I’m leaning on the Lord and He is working in me by His grace, the gift of patience and hope.

Knowing this, that the trying of your faith worketh patience.
But let patience have her perfect work,
that ye may be perfect and entire, wanting nothing.
James 1.3-4

My-o-my, I’m learning these things… and they’ve been so worth the learning! I’m learning to redeem the time! Time takes time… and it’s priceless.

Stuff’s going to work out.

I know. I’d probably grimace if one of my kids started an essay: “Stuff’s going to work out.” But, it’s on my mind today: stuff — and how it works out. But I want to begin by saying: stuff’s probably not going to work out how you thought it would — or even how you hoped it would — but, truly, in the end, stuff’s going to work out.

Last year, the year you’ve heard me describe as the most sorrowful year of my life, I heard a song… it was one of two songs that so resonated with me that I played them over and over and over again. Hymns and psalms and spiritual songs minister to my heart, they lift my thoughts heavenward and they seem to dispel the darkness of doubt and despair.

Over and over in my head I would hear the words, It’s going to be alright. I knew this — because I knew that God only does all things well — but I also didn’t know this — do you know what I mean? I didn’t know – know – know this because of what I was *seeing.* What I was seeing looked to be anything but alright. But in my wrestling, I knew the it was so big God must be in it. In my wrestling I knew that none of it had escaped His gaze and that He would work it together for good. He could not do anything other than that. And I knew that. But for ninety-seven days I struggled. Struggle still. Sometimes.

On the night that my whole world seemed to come crashing down around me I didn’t see that it was going to be alright. I didn’t see how it could be alright. Through a series of events, that led to one of our children leaving home for ninety seven days, I learned to see, believe, trust and hope in God as I never have before — and what I didn’t know at the time was that God was, indeed, using that event as an instrument to both chasten and strengthen me — to both humble and lift me — to crush me and to fill me. I needed all of that — I needed it much more than I needed to know that it was all going to be alright. What I needed to know was something I thought I knew but didn’t. It was something I taught I knew but didn’t. Maybe that’s a bit harsh — I guess, in reality, I knew as much as I knew of that truth — but I didn’t know as much I know of that fact now.

That child was longing for love, attention, time, affirmation… and I was busy. I was distracted. I was doing good things but not best things. And that child went away — to my great shame, regret and sorrow — but by the grace of God returned ninety-seven days later. Returned home, broken, completely restored and strengthened in faith and was genuinely welcomed home — such a beautiful testimony of the mercy and grace of God. I, on the other hand, very humbled, broken and filled with such regret and sorrow, was still trying to gather up the shards and pieces of my life. I am only now beginning to understand all that the Lord had for me in that lesson. And, I so do not want to miss anything He had for me in that very expensive and painful lesson — and though I’m not speaking financially at all, it was, truly, a very costly lesson — I cannot afford to miss what He had, or has, for me in it/through it.

I won’t elaborate on the details of those days — but I’d like to say that the lessons I learned in that valley were and are very, very precious and have given me great hope and great faith in the Lord’s dealings with me — with us all. He showed me, in so many ways, how resourceful and creative He is. He showed me that none can pluck one of His little ones out of His hand. He showed me that He cares for my child — my children — more and better than I ever could and He showed me He loved that little one… and never shifted His gaze. And He loved me, too. No matter that I did not deserve His mercy and His love. He showed me that He loved me too much to leave me where I was – going on the track I was going. I needed that correction. I needed it so much.

One thing kept ringing through — I knew for certain all through that dark valley was that I was going to to need what I received there – I was going to need that faith, that hope and that trust in God. I didn’t know how, I didn’t know why and I didn’t know when — but I knew I was going to need it. I said to myself over and over: you’re going to need this. You’re going to need this one.

And I did need it — not only for the following, but for many things since: Only a couple of months later… it didn’t take long and it wasn’t at all difficult to figure it out when our missionary son returned from Africa – and then the following week lay sick in the hospital — in a coma, very sick with cerebral malaria. It was then that I knew that I knew… the Lord truly is all I have and all I need.

It’s a real risk sharing stuff sometimes — but I think it would be pretty selfish not to. If you barely hanging on… if you feel like you’re sinking in too deep… if there’s some pain that’s tearing you apart, then, would you cast your cares upon the Lord Jesus — would you trust Him that it’s all going to be alright — that He truly is going to work everything together for good — for your good and His glory. He who cannot lie — cannot fail. And He, who loved you first… loves you still. And stuff’s going to work out. Really… you have His Word on it. Maybe not like you thought and not like you hoped… but stuff’s going to work out.

The words to the Sara Groves song: It’s Going to be Alright

It’s going to be alright, It’s going to be alright

I can tell by your eyes that you’re not getting any sleep
And you try to rise above it, but feel you’re sinking in too deep
Oh, oh I believe, I believe that

It’s going to be alright, It’s going to be alright

I believe you’ll outlive this pain in you heart
And you’ll gain such a strength from what is tearing you apart
Oh, oh I believe I believe that

It’s going to be alright, It’s going to be alright

When some time has past us, and the story if retold
It will mirror the strength and the courage in your soul
Oh, oh, I believe I believe,

I believe, I believe

I did not come here to offer you cliche’s
I will not pretend to know of all your pain
Just when you cannot, then I will hold out faith, for you

It’s going to be alright, It’s going to be alright

It’s going to be alright
It’s going to be alright

I can tell by your eyes that you’re not getting any sleep
And you try to rise above it, but feel you’re sinking in too deep
Oh, oh I believe, I believe that

It’s going to be alright
It’s going to be alright

I believe you’ll outlive this pain in you heart
And you’ll gain such a strength from what is tearing you apart
Oh, oh I believe I believe that

It’s going to be alright
It’s going to be alright

When some time has past us, and the story if retold
It will mirror the strength and the courage in your soul
Oh, oh, I believe I believe,

I believe
I believe

I did not come here to offer you clichÈ’s
I will not pretend to know of all your pain
Just when you cannot, then I will hold out faith, for you

It’s going to be alright
It’s going to be alright

What you’ve been through…

Browsing through a bunch of papers and stuff… a slip of paper… the quote:

“It is in the quiet crucible of your personal private sufferings that your noblest dreams are born and Gods greatest gifts are given in compensation for what you’ve been through.
–Wintley Phipps

The paper is yellowed, the ink is smudged. I mull the quote over in my mind – having done so many times before, I reflect on what it’s meant to me – what it means to me today. I know it’d be real easy to just think on the first part… the crucible part — the suffering part. Then it’s easy to move on to the dreams part and camp there for a while and consider what dreams have come from times in the crucible — the times of suffering. But my eyes leap to gifts. God’s greatest gifts. I can’t even carry — can’t even recount — all the gifts the Lord has given. You might not think this just looking at my life… you may see the high points, low points, the scattered tragedies of misunderstandings, losses, failings, joys and sorrows, blessings and wasted days. You may see all that and more… God sees a girl He’s redeemed.

I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t see many things as gifts from God if I hadn’t been through the valleys I’ve been through. And I surely didn’t walk through them alone – I may not have seen this at the time, but I surely see now… looking back, God’s been with me through them all. ‘Seems He’s sometimes been with me in the front. Other times He’s been with me from behind. Sometimes my footsteps have left no imprint in the valley — those are the times He carried me through — and the print of the valley is on my heart. Still other times I see now that it was His hand firmly around mine that guided me through the dark.

I don’t see these valleys from mountaintops, not really — though the many mountaintops have been great blessings and cherished gifts. I actually see the valleys better when I’m in them. Recently, walking through a valley, I had the keenest sense of awareness that I’d passed this way before. A few times, actually. And I had the strangest yet most familiar feeling of security… the valley imprinted on my heart. And then I knew for sure… ahhhh, yes, Jesus has been this way — He followed me here… He watched over me here… He guided me here… He covered me here… and He carried me out.

I don’t know what you’re doing today – I don’t know what you’re going through — but I do know this: whatever it is, wherever you are: Jesus is near. You may not even know Him as Saviour and Friend, but He truly is near. Even if you’re in the darkest valley of despair – His hand is not shortened that it cannot reach you. Nothing you’re facing, nothing you’re going through, nothing that’s concerning you is a surprise to Him. Nothing escapes His merciful gaze. Do you know that? Do you know that in Him you *will* — you surely will — find all you need?

I’m praying for you right now. Turn around. Look… call on Him. If you, in faith, call on Him, He will — He surely will — answer you. Repent… turn your eyes upon Jesus; give Him your life. The Bible says: “That if thou shalt confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus, and shalt believe in thine heart that God hath raised Him from the dead, thou shalt be saved.” — Romans 10.9 And you can rest in His Truth: “If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” — 1John 1.9

He will live in your heart… whatever you’ve been through. He tell you that you’re clean and forgiven. His love for you will say: welcome home.

Springtime came…

I smile as I look back and recall a blog entry I wrote on the 22nd of March called Springtime… seasons. At the end of that post I wrote: “… 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.”

Additionally, in that post I included the lyrics of a song Spring Time’s Comin’ that’s surely become even more meaningful to me since that post was written — because just two weeks later I opened the door to receive a package someone had sent to us. I could not have known on that day that the Lord, indeed, had a marvelous surprise right around the corner.

Remember the lyrics to that Spring time song? “…Right before your eyes, God has the sweetest surprise, all the new things He has planned to colour your world… Spring time’s comin’.”

As I looked at that package, I wondered what could this be?!? I even called my husband to tell him a package had come – mostly bcz he is the one who receives packages more often than anyone else here in our home. I thought it surely must be a business related package. But, oddly, it was sent by UPS from UPS. Strange. And so, the phone tucked between my ear and shoulder, I opened the box… dug through the zillions of packing chips to find another box. Open it, open it, he exclaimed! And as I opened the box I saw a letter… three pages… and I began to read… Wes, still listening…

Again, remember the lyrics to that Spring time song? “…Right before your eyes, God has the sweetest surprise, all the new things He has planned to colour your world… Spring time’s comin’.” Well, right before my eyes God did have the sweetest surprise… After reading the first page, I turned to the second…. what?!?!? Itinerary?!?! *Our* names?!?! What?!?! Then, a book: Hawai’i!?!?! What!?!?! Then turning to the third page… what!?!?! We’re staying here…?!?!? Omygoodness, this must be a joke… how can this be?!?! Who could have done this wonderful thing?!?!?! How can this be?!?!?

“…Right before your eyes, God has the sweetest surprise, all the new things He has planned to colour your world… Spring time’s comin’.”

Now that dream — that wonderful dream — is part of the beautiful collage of memories we have. And it is, undoubtedly, one of the more beautiful memories of our whole life – truly being the best and longest time we’ve ever spent alone together. It was a dream – but better – a dream come true.

Later we would have confirmation that all that was contained in the package was indeed true and was for real. Emails from Aloha For Reals gave more confirmation (and more questions… more what in the world?!?!? more how can this be!?!?!). It was then that we began to dream… and that’s when I wrote that post A new start and an old dream.

Weary of the winter, grieved over disappointments and misunderstandings, lost in wonder how to put life in proper perspective and move on from trials and failings… Springtime came and with it the hope of a brighter tomorrow.

As I wrote, while we were in Hawai’i, we asked the Lord many times: why are we here? why have You so blessed us in this incredibly lavish way? Well, initially, we saw the great blessing of just being there – the beauty, the brightness, the warmth, the aloha!, the joy of being alone and in love, the peace and quiet, the rest… but then I began to see God’s great message written everywhere we went: God is not without witness! God preserves a witness – He preserves a hope and a future. Beautiful, fragrant flowers growing in tens of thousands of acres of lava fields gave witness to this great and precious truth: God is not without witness anywhere! And… thus: in my life, springtime came. I’ll share tomorrow some more things the Lord showed me there and when we returned home. More significant to me, with each passing day, is the fact that God was demonstrating all winter long, all through the early Springtime, He did have a marvelous plan for us… and it wasn’t just that wonderful trip – it was that, and more.

More of that song again:

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…
Spring time’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.

Spring time’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…
Spring time’s coming.

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

The Birthday Card

I received such a beautiful card yesterday. It was a birthday card — but yesterday was not my birthday — well, not technically, anyway.

But in a way, it was my birth-day, for twenty-five years ago yesterday I gave birth to our first daughter — third child, first daughter. As I look back, nothing and everything prepared me for that day. O, it wasn’t the gap between her birth and the birth of the son five years previous — though it was. It wasn’t that I knew I was to have a daughter — I didn’t know that; it wasn’t that I was surprised to be having a baby — though I was, initially — for I had prayed for years to have another baby — but years went by; no baby. I guess, in reality, what I was unprepared for was the absolute, astounding, overwhelming joy I experienced that day. The stunning joy and practical disbelief that washed over me at the hearing: it’s a girl… it’s a girl. Crying, I repeated the refrain, it’s a girl, it’s a girl. It’s a girl!

The Lord gave me a gift that day — a gift for which I was and am so undeserving. The inestimable value of the gift of that child remains to this day a mystery to me. The child I prayed for was not the child I received. You see, I didn’t then, and do not now, have the capacity to pray for such a gift. And so my request was insignificant compared to the answer I received.

A few weeks or so before her birth, I began to write down names…. O, the oft rehearsed list of favourite names came easily to me. But then one Sunday morning, during the singing of a hymn in church, a word in the chorus seemed to ring out so boldly to me: Grace… grace… God’s grace… Grace that will pardon and cleanse within… Grace… grace… God’s grace… Grace that is greater than all our sin. My hand resting on my round tummy — the baby moving within… I heard & sang the words: Marvelous, matchless, wondrous… infinite grace… freely bestowed on all who believe…

Grace… I stood there… praying: Lord, I prayed, if this is a baby girl, then one of her names will be Grace… and I will tell her about You.

So, you see, nothing and everything prepared me for the gift of the baby girl that day, twenty-five years ago. Space and time do not allow for the recounting of the ways the Lord has blessed me through the years in the gift of this ‘baby-girl.’ As I told her again yesterday, were it not for her, I’d never have made it through the years. I meant it: I don’t know how I’d have made it were it not for her. What she has given me, what she taught me, what she has been to me, I can never repay. Her gracious, tender, generous ways — her eagerness, thoughtfulness, industriousness and a host of other gifts all wrapped up in merciful loving-kindness carried me through motherhood.

Perhaps only another mother of many could understand the significance of what I’m saying here. I had this daughter’s loving support and help… year after year. Perhaps only a mother who tried to do to many things and had many things slip through the cracks will understand what I’m saying here. I had this daughter’s tireless encouragement. I had this daughter’s enthusiastic help. And then, perhaps only a mother who failed to stay focused, failed to keep priorities straight, failed to daily live in tender devotion to her children, will understand the gift of a daughter who remained loyal and merciful.

So when I opened that card yesterday… I cried. I cried with joy. I cried with sorrow. I cried with regret. I cried with thankfulness that God, in His mercy, has redeemed me, has restored the years the locusts have eaten, has given me new hope, new zeal, new passion, new eyes for motherhood… though I so often didn’t even see my lack, didn’t even grasp my blindness to so many things. I don’t know how the days will go… I don’t know how some sorrows will be corrected in life, I don’t know how some losses will be redeemed, I don’t know how some bitternesses will be sweetened, I don’t know how some brokenness will be mended — but I do know this — back when “my world” came crashing down around me and I wondered if I would ever have joy again; I wondered if we would ever smile again; a few things happened: the first, and most important was that God gave me a new heart. Sincerely, that was most significant.

But one of the other things that happened in those days, was that this daughter, this gift from the Lord, this grace in my life, stood by me. Stands by me still. Her encouragement… I can never repay. O, how I recall crying to her in those days — sorrowful that I had been insensitive to her, sorrowful that I so often didn’t see her — just saw what needed to be done. I sort of became such a perfunctory mother. This daughter helped me to see all this so clearly, so tenderly. I owe her a debt of gratitude I can never repay.

And so yesterday morning — undeserving, I opened the card — the birthday card — and I read the beautiful sentiment of gratitude, a gift from this daughter; this precious daughter, the wind beneath my wings… this gift of grace from the Lord. Marvelous, infinite, matchless grace.

I smile tonight… thankful to the Lord for the long journey. Regretful for some of the days behind me… but Hopeful for the days ahead. Rejoicing at what He has done. To God be the glory.

Happy Birthday ♥ sweet girl.

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.

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

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.

So, why does stuff happen?

Do you find yourself asking the “why did that happen?” question?

Why in the world did that happen? Or, why did this happen to me? Or, how could this have happened?

We all ask some such question from time to time. Even when we don’t mean to bring up our doubtful questioning in conversation, our comments betray us when we say something like, I don’t know how that could have happened, or some similar statement.

I think we all seem as though we’re surprised when things happen — as if we’d missed something in our vigilant attempts to prevent all problems. Truth is, we cannot prevent things from happening any more than we can make things happen.

When we’re going through hard times, it’s especially common for us to question why the thing is happening — not because we can’t believe it, but because we can’t believe it’s happening to us!

The Word tell us in 1Peter 4.12-13

Beloved, think it not strange concerning the fiery trial which is to try you, as though some strange thing happened unto you: But rejoice, inasmuch as ye are partakers of Christ’s sufferings; that, when his glory shall be revealed, ye may be glad also with exceeding joy.”

In recent years when hard things have happened, I’ve been quicker to consider that the trial or the hard thing has been allowed of the Lord for my good. This is just one of the great blessings of a long walk with the Lord and it’s one of the great blessings of age and experience. The longer we live and the longer we walk with the LORD, the more we tap into the reservoir of His ways in our lives — it doesn’t mean that God is going to answer us the same way twice — for we know that God is not obligated to repeat Himself — but that we have a bounty of ways He did answer and it bolsters our faith that He *will* answer.

God allows “stuff to happen” in our lives so that we will depend on Him, so that we will yield to Him and so that we will have something to give to others who find themselves in situations similar to what we’ve experienced.

You know how that goes… someone’s going through a trial and they confide in you because they know you know what they’re going through. They wouldn’t be able to lean on you, confide in you or glean from you if you hadn’t first gone through the trial or experience or “all that stuff.”

Many times in recent years, when facing difficulties — or hard stuff, I’ve consciously thought: Omy, this is so hard, God must be in it… I’m going to need this!

I’ve been keenly aware that He only allows things for my good and His glory — and so He’s taught me that when I’m going through hard stuff, He’s at work. Sometimes for my strengthening. Sometimes for my chastening. Sometimes for my lack. Sometimes for wisdom. Sometimes for identifying with Christ. Sometimes for pride. Sometimes for my worship… but always for my good and His glory.

Last year, the most sorrowful year of my whole life, I was keenly aware, time after time, that God was allowing all these things for my good and His great glory. They were hard things. Very hard things. Why did they happen? They happened so that I would *know* that I can trust God in *all* things. He is only good. All the time.

A Co-Incident

It just dawned on me that there are a bunch of co-incidents going on right now. But it’s not surprising to me when I’m dealing with something and then I notice several other similar something’s come up around the same time. You probably notice this is true in your life… when you’re going through something you hear about or see similar things all around.

I’ve been writing about CSA (childsexualabuse) for the last week or so. I feel like I might owe readers an apology — not for writing what I’ve written, but for not giving a clear ‘warning’ regarding the sensitive topic. ‘Guess there’s really no sweet way to warn about topic matters or the gravity of a topic or even the graphic nature of a matter. So, if’ these postings have been offensive, please accept my heartfelt apology for offending some sensibilities. CSA’s an offensive topic to read about. It’s offensive to experience.

And what about a “Co-incident”? I use this term to describe those incidents where the Vertical meets the horizontal — or, where the horizontal meets the Vertical. It’s when the Lord meets us where we’re at: A Co-incident.

A few months ago I received a letter “out of the blue” from a man who had stumbled upon my letter to my adoptive father. In that letter,you understand if you’ve read it, I candidly recounted some of the details of my experiences and the CSA with my ‘father.’ I had originally sent that letter (after many years and other letters/attempts to contact) in 2006 — and when it was returned refused, I decided to post the letter in its entirety online and send him a post-card with the imtellingonyou.org link and a note printed on the back… to let him know that I was telling…

Well it turns out that the man who contacted me had had some very unfavourable business dealings and experiences with LM, my “father,” and minced no words, derogatorily describing his past dealings. I was not at all surprised to read the descriptions of ruthless treatment — though, I was surprised to receive his letter – initially. As we exchanged a few letters, it soon became apparent to me that this man had his own battles to face against LM and his vendetta against him was quite different than mine and that my experience was simply an opportunity to perhaps see him leveled. Seeing my father get leveled was not/is not my intent. I’m grateful this man wrote to me – if nothing else, if confirmed to me that “people know” what kind of man he is/was. I’ve always wondered how an influential man or a man of his level of life couldn’t/didn’t have a slew of enemies and seems to carry on in relative ease. Well, as with most things in life, things aren’t always as they appear.

So, then a few weeks laters I received that newspaper clipping with the article from the Orange County Register regarding the mother/daughter effort to encourage people to Tell! — to commit to reporting abuse or CSA.

And then, this week, I received the latest No Greater Joy magazine with information regarding the release of Debi Pearl’s book,
Sara Sue Learns to Yell and Tell.

I’m honestly so thankful for all the Co-incidents — it’s no coincidence!! I know there are times when the Lord opens doors for us to “share our story” with others. We never know whose lives the Lord might touch and encourage with the sharing of our experiences.

Through the years, the Lord’s given me many opportunities to listen to hearts of women as they tearfully share their CSA (or any other) experience. I’m eternally grateful the Lord has chosen to use this very feeble vessel to carry His great good news and to encourage others in the way. I’ve got so much to learn, but He’s shown me so much mercy and given me so much grace as He works in and through this, and many other, life experience.

These are no coincidence… they are Co-incidents.