My Thanksgiving Wish

Maybe it is pressing the invisible brake on time, as we're days out from our first college tour with our baby boy.

Maybe it is the numbness from the horrifying news of the bus crash in Tennessee, on the cusp of this holiday weekend.

Maybe it is that this weekend holds horrible, terrible memories of our own in losing our firstborn the night after Thanksgiving.

Maybe it is sharing in the pain of loved ones facing the chaos and sorrows of life.  Unexpected upside downs.

Or maybe, it is the mixture of it all.  All the melancholy, on the heels on "the most wonderful time of year".  Whatever, it has me extra grateful for time off, a slowing down for the season.  Welcomed relief and rest, space for self-care.  Retreating and staying in with the ones who mean most.  Serving others and giving thanks.  Coffee and board games.  Random acts of kindness.  PJs and pie.  Family dinners.  Fireplace and Christmas movies.  Kitchen messes.  Macy's parade.  Christmas tree scents and sparkles.  Laughter and tears.  Memories and mementos.

Unplugging and reconnecting.

And so I'll leave you all with this, my wish for each and every one of you.
Be kind to yourself - and kinder to others.  Seek gratitude.  Embrace and treasure the day, whatever it brings.  Prayers it is filled with goodness...

 

The Pause

There's a bend in a road I travel occasionally that takes me back to when Tim and I were first dating. Whenever I drive it, no matter the weather, I roll the windows down and remember what the breeze felt like all those years ago.  Riding on his motorcycle, my arms around his waist, nestled up to his strong back, there was a warm safety that continues to do this day.

Back then, young and full of dreams, I would envision our life together.  Thinking of our future always filled with me happiness and I couldn't wait to be his wife.  Being with him then, wind in my hair, our love felt carefree and that's how I imagined our marriage would be.

Twenty-some-odd years later, there has been much joy and days upon days of happiness, but there has also been loss and heartache, sickness and pain.  I don't know a marriage that doesn't have a mixture of it all.

Last Saturday night, I was stewing a bit and not feeling the hearts and butterflies of that young love.  Tim had been an absolute grump and was not my favorite person.  And even though I more than a little frustrated with him, I sat thinking about how often little hiccups like ours send some couples right apart.  Maybe it is because we've endured most of life's big ones, but I just don't understand how easy it is for marriages to simply end.  So often I see emotions dictate permanent decisions.  It saddens me to see others fall "out of love" faster than they fell in, as I don't know how that's possible.

Maybe I'm extra sappy from the week's experiences, but Tim is my person.  My best friend.  My soul mate.  And I can't imagine life without him.  

Almost exactly a week ago, I wrote about prayer.  Little did I know that God was preparing my heart for a storm.  While my mind was heavy with the needs of others, I neglected to see those of my husband.  

After over twenty years together, I should've seen his grumpiness last weekend for what it was.  My husband was not well.

I went to bed in tears Saturday for his attitude and awoke in tears for his safety.  Waking for church, I finally noticed signs that something wasn't right.  Struggling for nearly every breath, we locked eyes and he admitted what I saw.  Hearing him ask to go to doctor, while clutching his chest, is a snapshot in time I'd soon forget.  Though I remained calm, there were pieces of me breaking inside, as they

they took him back for tests in the ER.  

Sitting with my back to the same shared wall that I said goodbye to my son in eight years ago, I questioned my peace.  Was I dreaming?  Was I really back here?  For awhile, it was as if I had a foot in both places, remembering my screams that November night and quietly petitioning for Tim's healing in the room I now waited.

To date, we still don't have answers and he is still struggling.  We spent a long night in the hospital with every test coming back normal.  While I am grateful, it is hard to watch the love of your life hurting, uncertain, and not being able to do anything but pray.

As such, I've spent a lot of time at His feet this week.  

At one point in the hospital, my body so physically tired from watching over Tim and mind racing with prayers, I just mentally imagined myself there.  I didn't know what else to say, what other prayer to offer, so I simply said, "I'm here, Jesus....I'm here."

Often in this life, we don't get the answers we're looking for and sometimes we have to wait.  Neither are easy but I trust in His timing.  And I'm listening to what He's trying to teach me in the pause.  

Displaced Christmas

This has been the most disorganized-fly by the seat of my pants-wait until the last minute-procrastinating Christmas season I've ever experienced.

And that is so. not. me.

Normally, by this time I would have everything checked off, completed and under the tree.  Meals prepped, planned and done in batches.  Traditions accomplished in a beautiful timeline.  Decorations fully out in November.

Not so much this year.

It began with the decorations.  Though a nice gesture last year, my hubby surprising me one evening and letting the kids put everything away did not result in the happiest of endings.  My fears of chaos ensued when this year, even after multiple trips to the shed, there are items still missing.  When one has as many snowmen as I do (many years I don't even put them all out), you might question how I would I know that I am missing anything, but I can.  And I am.

I find myself looking to areas where said snowmen or decorations would and should be, sigh in despair, but chalk it up to the season of disarray.

My gift shopping for the past several years has been done on Cyber Monday.  Maybe I just wasn't in the mood, but nothing enticed me.  It didn't help that finances were tight, as hubby was the midst of losing/changing jobs.  So, I waited.  And waited.  And waited some more.  Poor Noah has gifts scattered all over the house from the here and there shopping I've managed to do.  I'll be lucky if I get them wrapped in time and don't forget where I hid everything.  If I do, maybe I'll find them in time for his birthday next month!

We did a bulk grocery trip Sunday, after a long, full day of church, a farewell lunch for Tim's nephew who is joining the Air force, and a visit at the hospital to my niece (more on that below).  I went without a list and was already exhausted so you can bet I have forgotten at least one ingredient for every dish we have planned.

And traditions.  Well, this seems to be year of non-tradition so far.  Noah has a job and that has changed some of our annual outings.  Tim switched to third shift and we're still trying to teach his body bedtime is no longer dark-thirty!  Our calendar just doesn't seem to be cooperating and all the things I planned or looked forward to from years past isn't happening.

I could let it ruin my Christmas.  It would be easy to focus on all the things that haven't gone exactly as envisioned.  Or, I could sit in the messy beauty that is this year and be thankful.

The first Christmas, after all, was rather displaced and unexpected.  

But so very perfect, in every way.

In a way, it reminds me of what my niece and her husband are going through this season.  My chaotic Christmas seems a blessing in disguise.

Much like Mary and Joseph found themselves, they are expecting a child and have been sent on a journey away from home, in hopes of protecting their baby.

Haylea is only 24 weeks along but her pregnancy has been a whirlwind.  Diagnosed with hyper dynamic cervix, her body is fighting to keep sweet Isaiah in the womb and safe.  This past weekend she reached the milestone of viability and was able to get steroids for his lungs.  But the hospital she was in isn't able to care for NICU babies until week 27.  Given that she could deliver anytime, we prayed for a better option.

Thankfully, she's been sent two hours from home under the care of neonatal specialist in a hospital that provides for preemies on a daily basis.  We're still prayerful she will carry as long as possible, but we're grateful she is among seasoned professionals prepared for any outcome.

But it means she'll spend Christmas away from family.  Newly married, this most certainly isn't the Christmas I'm sure she imagined for their first year together.

Just as I'm sure Mary's journey was anything but expected and planned.

My prayer for them this season is that they are held by God's mighty power and strength, can put their trust in Him, and feel the peace which only He can provide.  For if He can bring His son into the most unlikely of circumstances, born in a manger, we are faithful and filled with hope, as little Isaiah is in the same caring hands.

If you would like to support this young family, struggling this season, and share a little hope, please consider giving at their link below.  Michael has been unable to work steadily, due to the lengthy and frequent hospital stay his wife has had - and is expected to continue.  May you be blessed for your gifts or prayers for them this Christmas.  

Help for Isaiah:
https://www.gofundme.com/j2fyzyj3

Lead Me

Tears brimming.  Voice shaky and cracked when words escape.  The stress from the past few days overwhelmed me as I broke down in front of my husband.  

"What do we do?!" 

Heavy uncertainty lingered in the room.  My husband's hand on the door, waiting.

I whispered, "I guess we just keep praying."

"You're right," he said, as his hands left the door, clasped with mine, and he led us in prayer.

My worries melted and, despite the pain of the moment, I found myself lifting up prayers of gratitude to God.  Forgetting the current struggle and celebrating, as my soul pondered what a beautiful gift this husband is.  Oh, what a change He has made in him!  And us.

Most nights, now, I drift asleep to the sound of my husband reading the Bible.  

Tears falling at the magnitude of this single sentence.
How many years...the number of prayers whispered. 

For so long I prayed for my husband's relationship with God to grow.  After we lost our oldest son, I feared those prayers would never be answered.

Not only did I hope for him to be stronger in the Lord, I yearned for my husband to become the spiritual leader of our home.  To be the man I knew God had planned for him to be.

Most of our marriage, I took the reigns when it came to our Christian walk.  My constant prayer was that Tim wouldn't just join me at church but lead us.  To not just attend but be present, engaged.  And there were many years I doubted.  Wondered if God heard my pleas.

Austin's been gone nearly seven years.

Unimaginable pain we've endured.  Unspeakable loss.  A broken that isn't easily mended.  My husband's shattered heart was visible, even from the outside.  The spark had left him, as well as his trust in the Lord.  He was angry, uncertain, hurt.

To fast forward to where we are now.  The progress and change that has evolved the past few years.  It can't be summed up in a few lines for this post.  But what I can say, simply, is that God can move mountains!  In all things He works for the good.

As I write this, my soul connects to other women I know facing this prayer.  I join them, knees bent.

If this is you today, my sister, please know God hears you.  He knows.  It has already been planned.  In the midst of your storm, He has already formed your rainbow.  Just cling onto Him.  Trust in His timing.  And have faith that He only wants the very best for you - and the man you love.

Don't lose heart!  Never cease praying.  

For when the answer arrives and you witness the powerful change that only comes from the hand of God, oh, what a blessing it will be.  How wonderful His mercy and grace!

In gratitude for the leader God's gifted to our home.


Linking up today with:

Under Pressure

There's a new love in my life.

Actually, in my kitchen.  Sometimes, I'm embarrassed to talk it about though, for fear it makes me sound like I'm a grandma.

My husband found it for me.  He's a sucker for anything that sounds like a good deal.  Salesmen see him coming.  For this reason I get a little antsy when he visits EBay or there's an unexpected knock at the door.  And I keep the remote clear of the shopping channel. But somehow, we fell upon an infomercial several weeks ago.  It was a lazy Saturday morning and I'll blame it on the fact that I hadn't had enough coffee.

Because, I have to admit, even I got sucked in to the selling points.

"Dinner in 20 minutes?"

"All day flavor in less than an hour"

Tim called to see the cost, not wanting to wait until the "but wait there's more...."  They didn't answer so he hung up.  I googled it.  Then, miraculously they called back.

Discovering I could drive to the nearest store and purchase it gave us negotiation power.  We ended up getting our power pressure cooker with free shipping and accessories.

Last weekend we tried it out for the first time.  I made Tim help me.

Normally I'm very confident in the kitchen but pressure cookers take me back to my childhood and the stern warnings of my grandma that if I came near it, my skin would peel off.  Now she didn't nearly give that graphic of a picture but that's where my imagination went.  When the whistle would steam, I'd scamper to the other room.

But together we tackled it and put a solid brick of frozen deer roast inside the metal container.  15 minutes later, we were enjoying moist succulent roast.  I was amazed!

I've been a lover of slow cookers for years and literally own more than I have storage space for.  And I'll probably still turn to them for an easy meal to come home to.  However when the pressures of the day leave even a planner like me at a loss for what's for dinner, this gal is turning on the power!

It really is incredible the transformation that takes place when you toss in a frozen, jumbled mess and end up with something wonderful to serve your family, just because of pressure.

And it kinda reminds me of life.  Because it's when we're put in moments of pressure, that we're shaped and transformed.  It is when we're under pressure, that we're most likely to give up - or give it God.  If we do the latter, He'll turn our mess into something beautiful.

Going in, we might find it hard to believe that any good can come out, but God never falters.  His Power will transform us under pressure.  His Power always, always brings good.

You know that under pressure, your faith-life is forced into the open 

and shows its true colors.  So don’t try to get out of anything prematurely. 

Let it do its work so you become mature and 

well-developed, not deficient in any way.

If you don’t know what you’re doing, pray to the Father. He loves to help. 

You’ll get his help, and won’t be condescended to when you ask for it. 

Ask boldly, believing, without a second thought.

James 1:2-5 The Message 

Faithful Friday: When Life is Hard

Sometimes in life things happen that can't be explained.
Sometimes, life just isn't fair.

We live this reality every. single. day. in the loss of our first son.

Throughout our somewhat still-young life, we've had more than our share of heartaches.  At many points, we've felt like we were being tested.  Sometimes, you can't help but ask why?

And I know many of you, who come each week, have your share of burdens and brokenness.  For those, my heart goes out to you.  I lift up prayers for my readers and share in your hurt.

But we can't dwell and linger on past pains.  Even in our situation, it is a delicate line we walk - in remembering our son but still moving forward.

Moving past the pain and into the next phase is sometimes among the most difficult parts of healing. For when you move forward, guilt arrives.

Sadly, for some, they never transition beyond the crisis.  Whatever happened in life that slammed on the cruel brakes has forever suspended them.  They can't imagine anything else so they just stay - locked inside the darkness and pain.

For the "Why did this happen?" questions in life, I want you to know I don't have those answers. Sometimes, truly, there is no answer.  And often, even if we had one, it wouldn't take the pain away.

Yet, I want you to know there IS an answer to whatever trial you're facing.
But it is one I can't easily explain.

If I had a dollar for every time someone has said, "I don't know how you do it/You're so strong/I could never survive something like that," I'd be writing this post from some fancy beach resort.

Do you know what I say to them, every time?

I didn't do anything.  God did.  I'm weak, God is strong.

As I've shared so many times on this blog, He is the only answer I can give you for how I'm not just surviving but thriving through this journey.  With each and every blow life has handed me through the years, He has been the constant.  Though I'm rarely at a loss for words, with this - it is just difficult to share the how and why.

The short answer, I guess, is that I have faith.  Faith is something that has grown in me because of those difficult moments.  Faith is something that has always existed within me but comes more and more with time.

Faith is the substance of hope, the conviction of things not seen, 

and accepts even that which appears unreasonable.

The hurts we've experienced have, at times, been unimaginable pain.  There were points we felt like there was no way out.  No hope.  No future.  No joy that would ever come from it.

But blessings have come, from every situation, every painful moment, every loss.  

Sure, sometimes they may not seem to equal out.  A small moment of joy or the gift of a blessing may not stand up against the mountain you are facing.  And you may still feel like it isn't fair, or that you've been shorted in this life.

Again, all I can say is that there is more.  Some day.  On the horizon.  There is hope.  

One day, you won't even look back because the view looking forward is one you never even imagined.

Keeping the faith until that One Day is here for us all.....

When Life Is...Life

Mercy, it's been a week and it is only Wednesday!

The start of my commute to work yesterday morning was a bit apprehensive, as we'd had another round of Winter.  For hours this weekend, I listened to ice hitting the windows.  We awoke Monday to a blinding white, crystallized snow.  Thankfully, our campus was like every school in the state of Kentucky and closed for the first day of the week.  Tuesday however, I needed to brave the weather and get back to work.

Just getting out my door was an event but, thanks to my hubby's loving and strong arms, I felt secure.  It was just as much a process to get inside the truck, as the doors were frozen shut.  Again, thanks to my DH and a trusty can of de-icer I was eventually set and on my way.

Our subdivision road was an icy mess and it is often how I judge the condition of others.  I know this isn't usually true, but to look out and see a plastic sheen across the road tends to discourage travel from this chicken little. 

For we live by faith, not by sight.  2 Corinthians 5:7

Though I try to live by this scripture in life, I so often find myself living by sight.  I see an icy road, therefore I believe the whole trip will be horrible and dangerous.   I braced myself for the worst, only to find mostly clear roads the whole drive. 

God reminded me on my commute to change the way I look at things. 

Not to judge at face value.  To remember there is usually more than meets the eye. 

And to not look ahead at life with worry, but instead to trust in Him.

Running just a few minutes behind, from the scrape-and-spray morning shuffle, the turn for my office was in sight.  I was almost home free.  And then... he hit me.

BAM!

I saw it coming the split second before it did, as I could see him cutting over into my lane to make a turn, with no regard for my presence.  Bracing, horn blaring, my willing it not to happen didn't pause or delay the end result.  Though I hoped for a different outcome, impact was inevitable. 

A morning changed.  Delayed.  Frustrations and inconveniences. 

In this case, every bit of planning and cautious driving didn't change things.  Icy weather didn't cause the wreck, just distracted driving.  Or rather, in the other driver not actually seeing what was right beside him!

Needless to say, it was bad enough to have had the wreck but the fact that he didn't even ask if I was ok and then made an inaccurate statement to what happened made for a very bad morning and day.



Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see.  Hebrews 11:1

This morning I set out, determined to make it a better day.  I got up earlier and was headed out the door un-rushed and ahead of schedule, thanks to the kids having yet another day off school.  Cautiously I stepped out the door on my own, careful to step around the ice and onto the freshly cleaned areas my husband prepped last night.  Easing into the car, I decided to check my own glove box for those pesky little cards. 

Much to my dismay I wasn't any more organized than Tim.  2013 was the most recent I could find.  At least mine were a year more recent than his, I mumbled. 

Knowing my luck, as I could just picture the irony of having some type of accident and being cited two days in a row, I decided to brave the slippery steps again and enter the house to print more cards.

A slow computer and several frustrating moments later, I exited the house with a freshly printed set, now in a rush to make the drive to work on time.  As careful as I was, my foot slipped and I went down anyway.

I'm destined to be covered in bruises.

Maybe it's my life's mission to have swollen lumpy knees.

Are you kidding me?!

It was a miserable trip down and an excruciating trip back up, as my injuries haven't fully recovered from my happy Valentine's spill.  Sobbing, soaking wet, and bleeding, I sat in my car and just broke.

Life is just unfair. 
I quit. 
Enough!

Most of my commute, I complained to God.  Cried.  Yelled even. 

Why were things so hard?  Why do I feel constantly defeated.  Knocked down again and again.

Sometimes literally.

I'm tired of being positive.  I don't want to look at the bright side.
And I certainly don't want to tell others how to find joy. 

(Insert major pity party)

And then God sings to me through my radio....

One million reasons why, you shouldn't even try.
After all you're just one heart, a single candle in the dark.
And there are shadows here, feeding on your fears,
That you don't have what it takes
- who are you to make a change?
But oh, oh, don't underestimate the God you follow.

Whatever you do, just don't look back.
Oh somebody needs the light you have.
Whatever you do, just don't lose heart.
Keep on pushing back the dark,
Keep on pushing back the dark.

The city on a hill, it should be shining still.
Every sinner saved by grace, has a purpose, has a place
Inside the bigger plan, we might not understand.
But if we just keep walking on, we will see the Kingdom come, yeah.

Whatever you do, just don't look back.
Oh somebody needs the light you have.
Whatever you do, just don't lose heart.
Keep on pushing back the dark,
Keep on pushing back the dark.

-Pushing Back, Josh Wilson

And I look at my bleeding and punctured hands from the steering wheel and remember how pierced His were for me.  How selfish and insignificant my little tantrum has just been.  All because life hasn't been sunshine and roses this week. 

But on this first day of the Holy Season, might I pause to reflect on the suffering Jesus endured. 

For me...

No matter the trials of this life....I have assurance in what eternity holds.

Knees bent,

no matter how bruised.