Grace

I wouldn't say that I'm clumsy; rather, I don't possess the skill of balance...or luck.  Perhaps my middle name should've been Grace.  It would've been Noah's, had he been a girl.  But that's a story for another day.

This morning, I'm pillowed-up hospital bed style trying to recover from a recent fall.  As with most falls in my life, it was less my fault, more being in the wrong place at the right (er...wrong) time.

Steps are my nemesis.  Over the years I've dropped, knees first, while managing to keep a cake from falling to its death.  I've hurled from the top step, after my heel caught the "safety grade" and sent me flying, ironically in a hospital stair well.  Spilled out the door on icy steps and injured myself more in trying not to fall than if I'd just let it happen and landed in the snow.  And I've fallen through steps as they disintegrated underneath my foot.

Even when steps aren't involved, I've gracefully tripped over rugs and slid like stealing home base on the pavement.  Fallen into random holes that magically open up in the yard only when I walk through it.  And of course there was that time I flew off the back of the motorcycle when that lady ran a stop sign and nearly killed hubby and me.

Thankfully most of my falls didn't require much help or healing time. Granted the motorcycle wreck called for the lengthiest amount of assistance and time to heal, but this latest fall has required more than I prefer.  Perhaps it is that I'm pushing 40 and this body just isn't what it used to be.  sigh...

But this go around, I've been dependent on my family as bruised ribs prohibit you from doing all sorts of normal activity.  Like, for instance, breathing.  Now that fluid has set up on my remaining good knee, I'm feeling rather incapable.  I'm sure it's a funny site to watch me hobble, moan, wince, and waddle around the house.  Asking for help isn't my cup of tea though and it often puts me in a bad mood for having to.

I know I've complained, snapped or whined way more than I should.  My family gets the worst of it because I have to put on a brave and good face at work all day.  By the time I make it to the comforts of home, my guard falls and the real me shows.  The one that needs lots of Grace.

Thankful to have this family in my life, even when I don't deserve them.  Yet, isn't that what love is?  Even when we fall short, mess up, and share all our short-comings, they love us anyway.

What better feeling is there than that?

Actually, it's the kind of love God has for us.

A love that cannot compare on any level to even the deepest love of our family.
Forgiveness.  Peace.  Joy.  Mercy.  Hope.  And all-flowing grace.

Even though we don't deserve it.

Sufficient grace...That's something I can fall upon and find rest in.


Linked with: #DanceWithJesus

Joy through Darkness

This post is probably one of hundreds that will be written this week inspired by the shocking death and apparent suicide of Robin Williams.  I don't have any higher wisdom than anyone else but couldn't shake the need to say something.

When I heard the news last night, I was on my way to bed so we didn't talk much as a family about it.  There was just stunned silence in the room.  Hearing it on the radio this morning, the kids and I discussed it again on the way to school.

Noah said, "This is pretty much all we're going to hear about for a day or two, I think"

Because it is such a shock, I told him.
When you picture Robin Williams, you smile.

Robin Williams = happiness

He made so many laugh through the course of his life and it just saddens me to think of the pain he was hiding inside.  Often, it is those who bring light to others that are holding the darkest secrets.  Laughter is avoidance and it distracts from how you're really feeling.

I know because I've mastered it myself.  In this life I've been hit with many blows and yet I still stand.  The biggest, deepest, darkest of all those, of course, is losing Austin.  And time and again people comment about how strong I am, how they don't know how I manage...  But few rarely took the time to see how I really felt. Few know the true pain I've experienced.  Because few are allowed behind the veil.

Is it irony that my latest post, about losing friends amidst the pain of child loss, published today on Still Standing Magazine?  It's one of the darker pieces I've written and admit it felt like I was exposing myself -more than I'm comfortable with.  But it was truth and needed to be said.  I know others are facing this unexpected hurt during a time of greatest grief.  Maybe my post will bring awareness to one friend to reach out, even if the other party doesn't seem welcoming.

And that's really what all of this is about.  We must, as a society, remove the stigma that comes from depression.  People don't just get over things.  This world is hard.  Life is hard.  And every single one of us battles something.

In the course of your day, you probably come face to face with someone screaming on the inside for just one person to reach out.  For just one hug.  One REAL "how are you?" that truly wants an answer of more than one word.

I'm lucky.  I can't explain how I've made it through the fog, how I found joy through the darkness, other than to say that God took me by the hand and pulled me out.  In the same breath though, I know others who are just as strong in their faith and God wasn't enough.  Medicine or therapy was required.  And that's ok too.


If you're hurting....ask for help.  Reach out.  There IS someone who cares.
If you're healing...look for someone hurting.  Reach out.  There IS someone in need.

Let's love each other more.  Be kinder than necessary.  Spread JOY.

Faithful Friday: Send Me God

"Christ has no body on earth but yours, no hands but yours, no feet but yours. Yours are the eyes through which Christ's compassion for the world is to look out; yours are the feet with which He is to go about doing good; and yours are the hands with which He is to bless us now." ~Saint Teresa of Avila

 

 

 

As my husband is in the fire service, we are frequently shown the needs of this community, and of those passing through.  We meet people at some of the most critical moments of their life.  Aside from him doing his obvious job, Tim very often goes above and beyond in helping those in greatest need.  It's just his nature and one of the reasons I love him so.

When I was in fire service alongside him, it was my natural inclination to be drawn to the children involved.  I prayed on the way to a wreck or house fire.  Once on scene, I would gravitate to the little ones.  Whether it be to calm them for medical care, or distract them with a teddy bear, the mother in me would seek them out to help.

Last night, on our way home from a school function, Tim received a call seeking help.  I believe it was no coincidence that God had us directly across the street from where the need was. 

An immigrant family, who spoke little to no English, was stranded.  Having traveled many miles, with many more to go, they'd reached the end of their abiliy to continue further.  We felt blessed to help in the small way we did and to join a team of others who provided care.

Upon meeting the father, and him thanking us repeatedly in broken English, he went to his van and opened the door.  Out jumped two of the most beautiful little boys, bouncing with energy.  Oh, my soul they were heartbreakingly cute.  Though we didn't speak the same language, our smiles spoke to each other.  Loving, sweet, bubbly hugs from both of them filled my joy tank beyond capacity and I've replayed that simple, yet profound scene, over and over since.  I think the stickers found in our truck to share with them filled theirs.  Happy squeals are universal, even if I didn't know what they said to their mom.

On our way home the kids shared what an impact that made on them and how good it felt to help someone in need.  We all went to bed feeling grateful for God to putting us in the right place at the right time.  It's amazing the opportunities that he'll send your way, if you just open yourself up to him and SUBMIT to him to be used!

 

For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me.   Matthew 25:30

 

Faithful Friday: Thanksgiving

Coffee and PJs...a roaring fire...Macy's Parade on the TV...turkey roasting in the oven.  Such has been our Thanksgiving morning for about as long as I can remember.  But yesterday that changed into what I hope can become an annual tradition for us.

We swapped all of that homey comfort to get up and out early.  To give back.

To make a difference...

Our church cooks a Thanksgiving meal for those who would otherwise do without, or have to work on the holiday.  My family was blessed to be able to help in the deliveries.

We were actually giddy with excitement the night before and throughout the morning.  We opted to drive both our vehicles, to make room for the food trays we'd be delivering.  Having an extra spot in my car, we brought along another kid from the youth group who wanted to help.

Routes in hand, the scent of Thanksgiving drifting through the car, we headed out on a mission.  Our first few stops were at businesses, bringing lunch to those who had to work.  Many of them were surprised and that tickled the boys, as they placed meals into their hands.

They were both so well mannered, saying "God Bless You" to each person and wishing them a Happy Thanksgiving - and it was sincere.  After each stop, they'd talk about the smiles or thankful faces and how good it felt to do this. 

Our route led us to an apartment complex and on into a more rural area of our county.  In most cases, they were single, often elderly women, possibly widows.  It was a wake-up call for the kids that not everyone has a family on the holidays and how many needs are right in our backyards.  On our drive we would mention things we might pray for about individuals we had met.  For all of us, it was a reminder of how much we each have to be thankful for.

The church sent us with two extra meals, just in case.  I told the boys to pray that God would lead us to whomever might need them most.  On one of the stops, Noah noticed a little girl in a far corner of the room.  From my position at the door, I had not seen her, but as we walked away he said, "Mom, I think we need to go back and offer another meal."  After he explained, we went to the car and got one of the extras, knocking for a second time at the door.  The lady was so grateful, saying that she didn't want to impose, but that her granddaughter would love it.  Hugging Noah on the way back, I thanked him for being observant and could tell he was touched through helping.

All meals delivered, we took the longer route back to the church, as we had one container left.  The boys were looking at businesses we passed, hoping to find someone working. From the backseat, Alex shouted, "How about that gas station?" and we pulled in, seeing one worker.  Perfect.  As Noah stepped out, he realized it was someone we knew, a former neighbor.  The man was shocked and very thankful for the timely hot meal.

"The service you are offering helps God’s people with their needs,

 but that is not all it does. It is also bringing more and more thanks to God."

- 2 Corinthians 9:12

We returned and gathered as a church, and a family, sharing stories of our visits. Much like any other family, kids clustered together to play ball or hangout.  Adults remained busy getting our food together, for those who worked, and anyone who wanted to join us for a group meal.  We filled the old sanctuary, prayed, and feasted on an enormous potluck.  

Though the kids were happy playing "Thunder & Lightning" outside, we coaxed them home to greedily get in a nap before going to my sister's for another meal.

  

Though tired, Tim and I spent some time talking about the experience.  We found ourselves mentioning it throughout the day, and then again last night at the close of our day. We were just so grateful to have spent the better part of it giving back, and it blessed us beyond our expectations.

This holiday is rough one for our family, as it was our last with Austin.  We tiptoe through this season, never knowing when painful memories will attack.  And even though tears fell in missing our sweet boy, we know Austin was very much a part of the day.  Having the heart of a volunteer, I'm certain he was smiling down and watching over every mile.

The pain from losing him never leaves, but helping others was such a healing way to spend this Thanksgiving.  And what we plan to do every one to come.

#blessed

Faithful (Sat): Belated Help

Ooops!  I forgot to write a Faithful Friday post yesterday.  Of course I realized it was Friday - I mean who can miss such a great day of the week?  I just neglected to ever put a post together, until this morning.  My hope is that you'll excuse me, as the afternoon was spent preparing for some upcoming "RAK" ideas I have.

As the saying goes, it's better late than never, right?  And that is also true for helping someone.  While RAK can be either planned or spontaneous, we often overlook helping those in need because "time" gets in the way.  Maybe someone you know has just suffered loss or was recently in the hospital.  You missed the funeral or weren't able to visit them in recovery.  So we sometimes shrug, maybe say a prayer, and go on with our lives.  It's easy to not do something because time has passed.

But it's never too late to do an act of kindness.  Even if it is a phone call or hand-written letter (yes, people still do that), just to say you've been thinking of them.  What I know from tragedy is that the pain and the need doesn't go away after the first few days.  Perhaps your delay in offering help was God's plan all along.  You were sent to that family at just the perfect moment they needed a ray of hope.


Is there someone out there today that you could be a help to?

For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me.’ Then the righteous will answer him, saying, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink? And when did we see you a stranger and welcome you, or naked and clothe you? And when did we see you sick or in prison and visit you?’

And the King will answer them, ‘Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me.’ -Matthew 25:35-40

Faithful Friday: Big Lil Sis

My little sister is all grown up.

It's not like this just dawned on me; I mean she has a child of her own in kindergarten now, but lately I've just realized it more.  Probably because I've needed her more than usual lately.  Each time she steps in to help me, juggling three babies, a new marriage and going back to school, I'm amazed and thankful she's in my life.

She's been there several times through our latest medical ordeal with Tim.  Whether it's been to take care of my kiddos, run an errand, or even babysit my hubby, she never hesitates to come to my aid.  In coming weeks, as we visit potential surgeons, she'll be there big time to watch over our home, kids and doggies.  All this plus taking care of her own household. 

Bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ. - Galatians 6:2

I texted her the other day "you're a lifesaver" and she quickly responded, "No, I'm a sister and it's what we do!"  Today she asked me for a small favor and I wish I'd remembered this response, as she shoved money in my hand for gas.  Perhaps I'll tuck it on a post-it note with the cash when I sneak it back to her?!

Truly, it is a joy to know that you have family to count on.  Those who are always there, no matter the hour or the request.  And while I'm blessed beyond measure to have my little sister, who's taken care of me more than I am her these days, I'm also grateful for other "sisters" who never hesitate to share my burdens. 

You know who you are and I'm sending much love to each of you this Faithful Friday...