Holding onto Truth during Suffering

I really don’t mean to keep wading around in the suffering talk, but I’m walking in it, and it’s all around me. My brain is still wrapping itself around the fact that I’ve finally entered the phase of life where people from my own circle – my personal, intimate friends – are grown up enough to be facing and having to personally deal with big-time stuff. Not that younger people don’t, but when we were younger we had the buffer of our parents, protecting us from certain information, handling details and logistics and relationships, and taking the ultimate responsibility for collecting information and deciding what to do.

My sweet, sweet friend recently went through a painful separation and divorce and now finds herself the single mother of three young boys. She has been such an encouragement and inspiration to me – not just because she has remained standing in the face of some difficult trials, but because she has done so with authenticity, bravery, and grace. She recently shared her testimony of what God has been doing in the past few years and ended with this list of truths that she’s gripped tightly in her fist. As I walk through my own trials and pains, I find this exercise of identifying what I know – truths I can hold onto – to be extremely helpful to survival. It’s helped Kathy. It’s helping my friend Heather. Maybe soon I’ll be able to share mine. I’d love to hear yours.

Here’s my friend Heather. I hope you are as encouraged by her today as I am.

*****

Six things this I know for sure:

1.  I couldn’t change my husband. All I could do was work on my heart and become the daughter that our Father has always wanted me to be.  My husband wasn’t ready to change.  What I have to do is pray for him on a daily basis.  I have to pray that he will an outstanding father to our three boys.

2.  I know that I am His daughter.  I belong to Him.

Isaiah 43:1-3 says:
But now, thus says the Lord, your Creator, O Jacob,
And He who formed you, O Israel,
Do not fear, for I have redeemed you;
I have called you by name; you are Mine!
When you pass through the water, I will be with you,
And through the rivers they will not overflow you,
When you walk through the fire , you will not be scorched,
Nor will the flame burn you,
For I am the Lord your God,
The Holy One of Israel, you Savior.

3.  I know the He is holding me in His hand every minute of every day.

Psalm 91: 11-12 says:
For He will give His angels charge concerning you.
To guard you in all your ways,
They will bear you up in their hands,
That you do not strike your foot against a stone.

4.  While this has been a truly humbling experience, I know that I am not to be ashamed.

Psalm 25: 1-3
To You, O Lord, I lift up my soul.
O my God, in You I trust,
Do not let me be ashamed;
. . . Indeed, none of those who wait for You will be ashamed.

5.  I know that God wanted to get my attention, and He did it in a dramatic way.

This is a quote from a book I love, When God Interrupts (M. Craig Barnes):
“It can be pretty dramatic when God comes looking for us.  We tend to think of grace as the concession of a polite God who says, “Well, that’s all right, Sweetheart; please try not to do that again.”      Grace is whatever it takes for God to come and get us.  It can be confrontational, frightening, disruptive and demanding, but in the end it saves our life.  Sometimes God has to come and get us when     we are giding in our grief, nurturing a broken heart.  He gently whispers, “You are not alone.  I love you.”  Sometimes He finds us lost in sin and  whispers, “I forgive you and restore you.”  Sometimes     He has to chase us down as we are heading the wrong way.  That is usually when things get dramatic.  It’s as if God then says, “You need a Savior.  Let me demonstrate that to you.”

I’m not saying what happened to my marriage is all my fault and it’s certainly not what God wants for my family.  But He did allow this to happen for whatever reason.  He has my attention, and I know that I need a Savior.

6.  The final thing I know for sure is that I struggle with Acceptance. Accepting that this is what my life has become:  a single mom of three boys, life style changes, going back to school at my age, and being alone.  As I was reading through some of my old journals preparing for today I came across this quote from Charles Swindoll that I’ll end with:
“Acceptance is taking from God’s hand absolutely anything He gives, looking into His face in trust and Thanksgiving, knowing that the confinement of the hedge we’re in is good and for His Glory.”

Valentines Galore

Been sick since Saturday (which really, really stinks . . . I have NO time for this, and my abs and obliques are completely sore now). And of course, I had to figure out what we were going to do for my 4-year-old daughter’s “Valentine’s Day box” and valentines for 13 precious kiddos. Yikes!

So armed with some last minute inspiration from Family Fun (I thankfully had craft supplies and Dum Dum’s on hand), here’s what my daughter and I created.

Phew. Valentine’s Day at school – Check.

So thanks, Family Fun, for bailing me out. In return, I’m spreading the news about you: go check out Family Fun’s website! It’s a great resource for all sorts of things.

Things Kids Say

Haven’t posted some of my daughter’s quotes in a while. Here are a few to brighten your Friday!

D: Daddy, I need money for my purse. Dad: I just gave you some. Where’d it go? D: I don’t know. Me: Welcome to the rest of your life…

Daughter ate a particularly tart piece of Clementine. When I asked if she wanted more, she declined on account of being “super tarted.”

Me: D, No jumping from atop the chair back to the pillow when Dad isn’t here. Dad: And let’s not do it with your eyes closed, either! (AGH!)

Daughter, playing Rudolph, insists on returning to the car after each “stop.” When asked why, her reply: “Because it’s just too far!”

D:1 little monkey jumpin on the bed. He fell off & bumped his head. Mama called the Dr & Dr said: That naughty monkey! He has to go to jail!

D: Mama, I can’t think, my brain is full. Me: Wow, that’s crazy since you’re just four. What filled it? D: I’m storing food for next winter.

D: Mama, is that a manhole? Me: Yes, it is. D: Why can’t women go down in there?

D: (upon waking up this am) Mama, I slept the entire time I had my eyes closed!

D: Mama, if I made a poop bigger than God . . . I would win a prize. (debated about posting, but after sharing with a group today, oh well!)

D: Mama, if you were the mommy for all the kids in the world…we’d need a lot of bunk beds.

D: Mom, do you know why I pick my nose sometimes? Me: Why? D: So I can sell my boogers… Am I proud or totally grossed out??

D: Mama, why did I throw up on @kpinion when I was a baby? Me: Well, you were really upset and had just eaten. D: Actually, it was my plan.

Me: Honey, why were you so grumpy this afternoon? What’s up? D: Well, I just left my smile at home.

D: Can God see even outside my heart? (We talk about him being inside our hearts…) Is he getting all bloody in there?

Me: We’re having a baby shower at our house tonight! D: Do I have to get into the water, too?

D-2 grandma (re: getting a shot) – I’ll hold your hand if you want. But if you start to say Ow, then you’ll have to hold my mom’s hand.

I keep trying to correct her but, my daughter just can’t seem to get it straight . . . she still wants me to put “pall nailish” on her toes.

Sunday Morning Leftovers

To be honest, this is more like last Tuesday’s leftovers . . . and in reality, it’s been on my mind for the past month. But today seems like an appropriate time to talk about it: suffering.
Most of us are familiar with the James 1 passage that goes,

Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing. James 1:2-4

But in two specific friendships, I’ve been so amazed and encouraged by a steadfast faith during times of trial. And until recently (oddly enough), never really put the pieces together that the testing is actually producing the steadfastness. I think in my mind, I just assumed their steadfast faith was shining through the trials . . . which in some ways it is. But at the same time, Scripture clearly says here that it’s a product of the trial. That’s such a deep encouragement to me because when I look at these friends and the trials they face, I wonder if my own faith would remain steadfast. If I would continue to bless the Lord, in spite of the pain of chemotherapy. If I would walk humbly and in the Word, even when I couldn’t physically get up out of bed because of nausea and overwhelming fatigue. But doing those things relies upon my own strength to remain steadfast . . . not allowing it to be a product of what God is working in my life.

So Kathy and Luke, I’m praying for you and thinking about you. That God would make you perfect and complete through these trials. And I’m so thankful for how your steadfast faith has fortified my own.

I’m leaving you all with a journal entry from my friend Kathy. She’s given me permission to post it here, and I wanted to encourage you with how she’s “counting it all joy” despite a truly miserable week.

January 25, 2010
It’s 1:37am the night after my first chemo treatment. I have been trying to sleep for hours and can’t, even though the chemo drugs have “hit” me and I feel like I’ve been run over by a truck. So instead of tossing in my bed irritated that I can’t sleep I am choosing to type some of the thoughts rolling through my head and heart.

Though I’ve been sick for over 4 years with various issues, no one at any point guessed or even wondered if I had cancer. In fact multiple doctors thought there was “no way” I could have it until the surgery and pathology report on December 23 said otherwise. There were three surgeries in three weeks (including a full hysterectomy which is a major deal), a trip to the ER, an infection, multiple bad responses to meds, an incredibly bruised and painful port which was the “talk” of the chemo room today because it was so bruised…just to name a few things that have kicked off 2010 as not my favorite year of my life.

I decided that whenever I talked about my cancer I wanted to do so in a genuine, honest way that reflects what I really feel and think. I didn’t want to play the despairing victim because I don’t feel that way. Nor do I want to communicate that I like this. I don’t. I have and will experience very real and intense physical and emotional pain. And if given the choice I would walk away from it. However, since God chooses better than I, there are 11 things I have clung to that have made this experience bearable and in certain brief, sweet moments worshipful. In no particular order, due to my early morning stream of consciousness, here they are…

(1) There is nothing that has happened in the past month that makes me doubt anything about God or His Word. I have very much not liked this experience but I see now more clearly than ever that the Bible is 100% true. It tells of a world where you and I live where there is pain and suffering of every kind. It tells of world so impacted by the sin that entered it in Genesis 3 that the earth groans to be released from the oppression. It tells of a world where both Christians and non-Christians suffer; it tells of a place where Christians don’t get the “easy” card and get to take a “pass” on cancer. Nothing I’ve experienced the past month contradicts His Word.

(2) The fact that God was 100% on target in His description of this world means that He is 100% on target in His explanation of the next. In heaven there will be no pain or sorrow or disease or disappointment or chemo rooms. Yipee!!

(3) Rather than distancing Himself from suffering, God entered in and engaged in it…giving His only Son to be tortured and killed in a most unjust and horrific way. He does not stand aloof and gaze at my suffering as One who is imagining what it is like. Jesus knows. Jesus choose it. And His choice to suffer, die, and be raised again is the only way I’ll ever get to experience a place with no suffering. How blessed am I.

(4) Every nurse and doctor at Texas Oncology, whether they are a Christian or not, are a veiled glimpse of Jesus to me. The enter into an intense season of suffering in my life to give of themselves for me. They compassionately and kindly answer questions, explain info again to new eyes and families bearing the weight of cancer, smile, reek of mercy, and do everything in their power to heal. I cannot for a minute think that Jesus is not present in that place.

(5) There is no fear in death for me. I don’t know whether I will be a cancer survivor or not. But I know that, should Jesus not return in my lifetime, that I will die. And because of Jesus’ death and resurrection and the faith God gave me to believe in that, heaven is mine. Death has been swallowed up in the victory of Jesus Christ who gives eternal life to those who believe.

(6) God chose to give me cancer because He loves me. Romans 8:28-29 tell me so. I don’t understand all that means and it doesn’t stop all the hurt in my heart but I know it’s true.

(7) God chose to bring trials into my life in previous years to prepare me for this one. The multiple surgeries and challenging experiences in the past were not accidents God passively allowed but things designed and given by Him to give me the endurance I need for this one and perhaps ones to come. James 1:2-4. I have not always counted it joy but am grateful for the endurance.

(8) God’s grace is sufficient in my significant weakness. I have nothing to offer but weakness and according to Him, that’s ok. 2 Corinthians 9:9-14.

(9) God’s sovereign provision of meeting a sweet friend, Traci Hancock, as we prepared for a mission trip to Lativa last summer. Little did either of us know the friends we would become or the path we would walk together that neither of us would have chosen. Her husband, Kent, was diagnosed with cancer less than a month before I and I got to cry with her. Then when my diagnosis came she was there to cry with me and so much more. Her husband just “happens” to be the best gynecological oncologist in the area and perhaps the state and country. No only has he treated me during his cancer but today Traci showed up in the chemo room with lunch for Molly (another unspeakably great gift of God to me). And as I arrived home from my first day of chemo was met at the door with the most beautiful flower arrangement ever given to me. Guess who it was from? Kent and Traci. We didn’t know each other a year ago and we now share sufferings, experiences, and hope that will link us for a lifetime.

(10) Dad, Mom, Cindy, Robert, Michael, Erin, Austin, Owen, and Beth. Not everyone is given a biological family as great as mine and that fact does not escape me.

(11) My biological and spiritual family who have cooked, driven, sent flowers and gifts, mailed cards, written a Scripture verse, taken over my responsibilities, cleaned, texted, emailed, called, encouraged, smiled, cried, and hugged. And most importantly to me, in those moments of my most significant weakness when I didn’t think I could bear one more thing, took a burden that was about to suffocate me and carried it to Jesus for me in prayer. Very few things have brought me to tears during this journey but this one does. If/when I make it through this season, I gladly give 100% of the credit to Jesus and them. None of it is mine.

Jesus, I wouldn’t have chosen this and I know I’m so weak that I would give it back if you gave me the choice. But you are wise enough to know that about me so you didn’t give me the option. I continue to ask for the grace and strength to journey through what you have chosen is best for me.You gave me Yourself when I didn’t even know who You were; I know there’s no way You’re turning Your back now. My heart is broken and full at the same time. I give both the brokenness and fullness as an offering of praise to You. Soli Deo Gloria.

Snapshot Saturday

Okay, seriously. I stared at this McDonald’s kids meal for several minutes trying to figure out how such an obvious joke slipped past marketing. Do you see what I’m talking about?

When I asked my husband what he thought, he pointed out it’s probably supposed to be Alvin’s tail . . . but none of the other pictures on the box show such a “revealing” angle. Just more confirmation of why we never go to Mickey D’s.

The Fragrance of Ice Cream

We’d been sitting in the little ice cream shop for quite a while, as our 4-year-old savored every bite of her gigantic chocolate ice cream cone. The price for the ice cream was a little high, but I think we got our money’s worth out of the sheer number of napkins we used. My husband took our daughter to the bathroom to get cleaned up (for the second time), as I waited in the small seating area in the front.

Suddenly, a sweet smell began to permeate the room. As my husband reappeared with my daughter, we locked eyes – me with a question, and him responding with a look and an affirming nod. Certainly one could expect that a teenage boy working an ice cream shop in the winter would get bored, but smoking weed with his buddies just outside the back door would not be a recommended way to pass the time! What was most surprising, to even me, was that the smell traveled from outside, into the building, through a rather large kitchen, an office, and filled the entire front of the store.

Which (of course!) turned my thoughts toward spiritual things.
The Old Testament is full of examples of people offering their sacrifices to the Lord and him finding the aroma pleasing. 2 Corinthians talks about us being the fragrance of the knowledge of God and the aroma of Christ.

But thanks be to God, who in Christ always leads us in triumphal procession, and through us spreads the fragrance of the knowledge of him everywhere. For we are the aroma of Christ to God among those who are being saved and among those who are perishing, to one a fragrance from death to death, to the other a fragrance from life to life. Who is sufficient for these things? ~2 Cor 5:14-16

Although we may not realize how pleasant or unpleasant our smell, it permeates the areas we walk regardless. Even when we put on a happy face and a good show, our aroma can betray us (or back us up). Just like there’s a point at which you can’t cover up body odor with anything except a soapy shower, we reach a point in our lives where we can no longer hide behind perfume and masks.

The smell of weed still drifts to the front of the store.

So I leave you with that this weekend. Are you an aroma or a stench? As Christians, we leave an impression of God behind no matter what, so if you’re stuck in the latter, perhaps it’s time for a shower.

Photos: My daughter thoroughly enjoying her ice cream. And believe it or not, these pictures aren’t even at the height of her “enjoyment”. (Jan 2010)

Sunday Morning Leftovers

Music began to play as people sat in the chairs to pray. Parents were dismissed to get their little ones from the children’s ministry area and return. Slowly people began to arise from their seats and move forward to receive their portion. But to my surprise, they began huddling together in small groups or as family units. Embracing one another, they prayed, and they took communion together.

I was there to support my friends in the first all-church gathering of their new church plant and also to photograph. I snapped away, but felt emotional at this simple sacrament suddenly taking on new meaning.

Communion. Conjures the words common and union in my mind. The actual dictionary definition includes the words sharing and exchanging. None of those concepts can be done individually, and yet in all my communion-taking experience, the sacrament is largely individual. We pray individually in our seats, receive the elements individually (whether in our seats or at the front), and take them individually. Sure, we are all gathered together in one place doing the same ritual at the same time, but compared to what I witnessed last Sunday evening, it still feels highly individual. Private. Me and God getting right in our relationship, connecting with one another . . . but not truly connecting with other believers through the experience.

I’m not sure if this communal communion has been a common practice in the smaller gatherings of this church. The whole process seemed so natural . . . so obvious. I do find benefit in spending some private time remembering what Christ did for me. But this scene evoked in me a sense of longing to spend more communal time remembering what Christ did for us.

So this week, I’m left meditating on the beauty of communion. Communal communion. I hope to experience the depth of this kind of communion again soon.

Photo: Communion at The City Church (Jan 2010)

Snapshot Saturday

My daughter got this in a little goodie bag from a sweet friend at school. At first glance, looks innocent enough, right?

Does this seem like a terrible idea to anyone else??

Oppressive Moments of Motherhood

I’d say 95% of the time I relish the privilege of being a mom. Sure it’s hard at times, but the shining moments outweigh the dim ones.

And then there’s a day like yesterday.

Oh, you know, one when you feel like a pot of water just starting to boil, and you’re trying to keep the lid on, but bits of steam keep slipping out and the lid is starting to rattle and clang. You know if the water and steam spews out it will burn anyone nearby, so you try to keep it contained but you’re not sure how much longer you can keep the lid on.

That’s how I felt after four hours of “I’m tired, hungry, and grumpy but I don’t want to eat anything, do anything, or take a rest.” I understood where my daughter was coming from, but you can only do so much for a child refusing to do anything (and doing so with an attitude). Anyway, by the end of that time – but before my husband made it home – the word I kept thinking about was oppressed. I had mom’s group that evening, and I just counted down the minutes until I could get out.

Which made me think about blogging.

Writing and blogging is often my release. My way of sorting things out that are in my head – or sometimes just letting them out before they explode. Lately stuff has been piling up in this brain of mine and in some ways has just clogged up the works from letting anything out. It’s that same feeling when your house is out of control, and as much as you want to reign it back in, it’s so overwhelming that you just don’t know where to start. So you sit on the couch and watch late night television instead.

So here’s my hopeful re-entry back into the blogging world. I’ll leave you with a few ideas on how to escape those oppressive moments of motherhood (just to bring things full circle and all). I’d love to hear your coping strategies as well – for motherhood and for blogging.

1. Join a mom’s group (or something like that). If you don’t have one available to you, consider starting one. It doesn’t have to be fancy or highly organized; just create space for mom’s to get together and encourage one another. Our group just meets once a month, but it is a HAVEN for me.

2. Get out of the house. Sometimes your child cannot handle going anywhere, and you do need to respect that. But you can move your two feet past the threshold of your front or back door for a couple minutes. Sometimes the fresh air and sunshine (if you have it that day) can work wonders on the soul.

3. Let a little steam out. You can send out a tweet, like I did:

So thankful for Mom’s group tonight. Otherwise, the world might be less one cute 4-year-old by tomorrow morning…

which made me feel better just telling someone else that I was having a hard time. Or you can use a lifeline and phone-a-friend. I also sent a text to a friend asking if I could arrive a few minutes early to mom’s group for the safety of my own child. If I had to go much longer on my own, I probably would’ve called someone to just blow off some steam. That way, I could release it in a way that was productive and not harmful to my child.

4. Of course, there’s always praying about it. In moments like those, I can’t offer long prayers, and I don’t usually feel like whipping out my Bible to read. But I send up short, SOS-type prayers to the Father: letting him know of my frustration, asking him for his perspective on the situation, or just asking for strength to make it.

As always, would love to hear your thoughts!

(Photo: My 4-year-old just before Christmas time. I know, hard to believe that she could be anything but sweetness and light from this photo, right?)

Merry Christmas!

Just popping by to say Merry Christmas. True to Texas fashion, it was 75 degrees yesterday and today it’s snowing.