Unbroken

They say nobody goes through life unbroken. We all have our scars and storms weathered.  Some more than others but none of us leave unscathed.

There have been points in my life when I have been both physically and emotionally broken.    Moments that brought me to my knees.  I've had seasons of spiritual brokenness, where I questioned my faith or was betrayed by those entrusted with the gospel.  And we've certainly had our share of financial breaks, where we faced unemployment, income shifts and unsurmountable medical debt.

But despite what life and evil has brought our way, we are still standing.  The constant through it all is that God never left us.  Even in the seasons of doubt, anger, or deep grief.  

This week, leading up to Easter, one of my devotions spoke on unbroken bones.  (Ps 34:20)  

When you think about all the injuries and pain Christ endured on the cross, it is unbelievable that none of his bones were broken.  God spoke of this before it ever came to be.  

As we sit in the midst of Holy week, instead of focusing on the One who is ultimately in control -Whose hand holds the past, present and future...the world dwells on doom.  With the solar eclipse approaching, conspiracy theories and claims of destruction abound.  People are anxious and filled with worry with what may come. 

I've had periods of worry, some points of time that it nearly overtook me.  My husband sometimes jokes that he never has to worry because I do enough for both of us.  Being a planner, I like to think of it more as an assessment.  Working out all the details and possible outcomes with solutions.  But I've learned that worrying adds nothing good to the problem.  As I've grown older and longer in my faith, I've given more of my worries to God and found unexplainable peace in knowing He is ultimately in control.

Jesus suffered greatly this week.  Unimaginable torture and affliction.  But he was not fully broken.  

God promises that for us too.  No matter the trials and suffering of this life, He is with you.  This world cannot break us because it is not our home.  Whatever we face is temporary.  Hope and Heaven cannot be broken.

Marked Blessings

All boys seem to have a love for stones and rocks when they are little but our oldest son, Austin, was fascinated with them throughout his life.

In his younger days, he thought a piece of gravel was cool. I have fond memories of walking with him and stopping whenever he found a new treasure. He'd squat on chubby legs, eyes bright with excitement, as he held the discovery in his little hands. After turning it over a few times, it would get shoved into his pockets, as he was ready to continue in his search.

I don't remember why Austin began gathering rocks, but over time his collection and knowledge grew. He studied about them and could tell you what a rock's scientific name was or where it could be found at a glance.  Proudly displayed in his room were some of his favorite finds and he loved nothing more than to share stories about them.

These stones have been on my mind lately, as I've been studying the Bible.  I'm currently reading a devotion in Joshua and the importance stones had then.  It's even more interesting, as our family had a discussion the other night about blessings God has given us in our life and how that related to stones in Biblical times.

There's a space in the front of my new Bible that allows you to record milestones and blessings, to remember what God has done, is doing and will do within your family.

It was easy thinking of major events, like the boys' births and baptisms.  But there came a point when my memory stalled and I asked the guys for help. I'll admit there was a moment of silence when we reached the year Austin passed.  It is bittersweet because the pain still lingers, even though there is joy in knowing where he know calls home.  As we continued through our timeline, it became apparent how quickly we fail to recall the blessings of our life, both big and small.

 That was the purpose of the stones back then.  Marked monuments to tell future generations of all that God had done.  Reminders of His promises, big and small.

In this gloomy month that begins a new year, I can feel Satan's pull and hissing in my ear of all the things I've yet to accomplish.  Goals not reached.  Failures.  Inadequacies.  He would have me to focus on the things I have lost or didn't get and would want nothing more than for me lose trust and not cling to God's promises.

So instead I've been picking up imaginary stones, marking the simple blessings that come with each and every day.  And as I'm not too far into the year, I went back from the start of 2017 and lifted thanks for each one.  It's a joy to say my pockets are full and lumpy, beyond my expectations.

I can't wait to continue the search for more treasures to come.

Restored

My soul has been praying for restoration for our family for many years.  Perhaps from the moment of losing my oldest son.

In the depths of chaos and unimaginable grief, even in those first hours, I knew peace and restoration from God would be the only way we would survive.  Back then, I tucked the hope for being restored deep within my heart, for I was hurt and scared -even mad at God- and unsure if He'd ever answer another prayer of mine.

For those early years, we were held together only by His grace, but slowly, piece by piece, I began to see signs of being restored.

Our family laughed again.  The dark cloud that consumed my husband was showing signs of light.  Fear began to give way from my youngest son's eyes.  Joy was returning.

It was a gradual change.  A see-saw of emotions at times.  While we experienced some highs, in looking back, it felt like the wind was knocked out of us again and again, year after year.  Every time we'd glimpse a peek of mountain tops, we'd come crashing back down with a new blow.  The last couple of years were unexpectedly rough, for very different reasons, but again we saw our family being torn apart before we could return together whole.


In the midst of that new grief, my prayer became a constant, louder whisper from within my heart.

Restore us, God.  Restore.

Not just in our family of three but within the circles of others we loved.  So many breaks and fractures since losing Austin, perhaps all in some way connected.  Some from poor choices in grief, some from a lifetime of mistakes.  But I knew that the only way we could ever be whole again, even if patched together, would be by the hand of God.

Though God led me to choose "Forward" as my word for 2016, the underlying theme has always been restoration.  Forward was just where He wanted me to look.  To let go of hurts from the past and see the good He has in store.

Restore has been my prayer, from my seat in church, in my bed, hands locked with my husband and knees bent.

All of this came swirling around me upon our entrance to the Women of Joy conference last month.  Though I'm sure at some point I heard or saw the theme of WOJ, it didn't resonate until that very moment.  As I looked down at the pamphlet in my trembling hand and saw the screens in the distance, it was as if God himself was revealing the message.  Immediately a sense of peace about the weekend -and all that is to come- washed over me.

God is so good.

He has restored our brokenness.  He has calmed our storms.  He has promised good to come.

Restore to me the joy of your salvation 

and grant me a willing spirit, to sustain me. Psalm 51:12

Still Standing: October

Life sure has a way of knocking you down, while you're down.  At least that's how it feels around here sometimes.

Before we've even had a chance to catch our breath from a bumpy summer and unexpected change in our family, we receive more unsettling news this week.

We're really not at a place where we can share just yet, but prayers are appreciated, especially for my husband.

Though the future is uncertain we're holding on to the One who holds our future.

October is among my most favorite of months, but I'm realizing a trend that makes it difficult to love it fully as I used to.  It's very much a month of before...

I captured what I called the "Calm Before the Storm" in my first post as a contributing author for Still Standing Magazine.

Thanks to Timehop, I was reminded that I've had the honor of writing for this beautiful place of support for those facing child loss exactly two years ago.

My latest post with them has received a response I wasn't expecting.  Often it is those pieces I pour out quickly, which seem to resonate the most.  While the loss of a child is as unique as the person grieving, whatever my heart shared a few days ago met and matched many.

If you've faced such a loss, perhaps you'll find comfort that however you're feeling, you're not alone.

Who is a Grieving Mother

All that to say, sometimes I have to look back to see how far we've come.  No matter what temporary trial we are enduring, we've already faced the unimaginable.  And yet...

we're Still Standing.