Where's your Focus?

My husband's simple prayer at dinner one night this week nearly brought me to my knees.

We were both struggling with back pain, though for different reasons.  I've been blessed to not really have back issues until the past month or so.  It has been one of the few parts of my body I can count on (or could!). Whether from age or changing needs at work, I come home most days lately in pain.  Tim is battling a kidney stone (ouch!) something he's been lucky to avoid for many years as well.  

As we eased down to our meal, we were both hurting but the words my husband spoke completely changed the focus.

"If it be your will, help us with this pain, though we know it is nothing compared to what your Son endured this week for us."

Lord, help me...

My temporary pain seemed so trivial compared against what Jesus suffered for my sins.  Was I really just whining about the inconvenience?  At the same time I was both upset and frustrated for Tim.  He's had a rough six months medically.  It's difficult to watch someone you love hurting, knowing there isn't much you can do to help.

When we're in the midst of troubles, it is easy to wallow around in a pity party and question why we go through the trials we do.  I know I've even tried to quantify it in the past, as if God is keeping a tally sheet and I'm somehow eligible for exemption based on a lifetime of pain and loss.

Yet, it's made me ponder since, how often do we get so wrapped up in our hurts and hangups that we have blinders to anything else?  

This world is so hectic and fast paced, even on an ordinary day we can walk right past someone in need without noticing.  But it's much more likely we miss them when we're bogged down by own issues and pains.  It's certainly hard to help someone when you're hurting yourself.

And that's just where the enemy wants us.

Friends, life is hard.  He wants you so focused on your needs that you don't have the ability to see anyone else.  Or, to be so inundated with physical and emotional needs that we have no time to dwell on the one that means the most - our spiritual health.

Facebook is flooded with prayer requests.  Every day I read stories that cause me to shake my head in disbelief.  Heartbreaking needs that pause me to pray.  We're so quick to ask for prayers on social media that sadly there are now even fake chain requests.

And I'm not saying we shouldn't pray for those hurting or in need of healing.  I believe in the power of prayer and am grateful for an extra outlet to lift those up in need.

But aside from my Lifegroup and a dear prayer partner, I rarely get requests to pray for someone's salvation.  When is the last time you saw a status update asking for prayer for someone who is lost? #prayingforsalvation

It just doesn't happen.  Maybe because we're so weighed down with the every day chaos that is life.  However, we have the power to change and shift our focus.  To lean in closer and hear the whispers of God.

When an ache presses me to move or take notice, my new hope is that it reminds me to pray for someone who is facing eternal pain.  If I feel overwhelmed from a minor issue, may it help me to refocus on what matters most.  Whatever we endure here is temporary.

Nothing - no pain on this earth - equals the void and loss that comes with not having a personal and everlasting relationship with Jesus.  

As we enter this Easter weekend, my prayer is that I'll be more burdened to notice those with the greatest need of all.  If I'm focused on One that matters most, I know He'll lead me in the right direction.

Joy in Pain?

When pain is present it tries to take over everything.  Priorities shift without your consent.  Focus is lost. Panic spreads. Fear invades.  Pain is controlling, isolating, debilitating.

My poor hubby is still battling lots of pain and little answers.  He's been strapped onto a health roller coaster the past six months and all of us are ready for departure.

Watching someone you love hurting and being unable to fix it is the absolute worst feeling.  This past weekend was spent in a cloud of chaos and emotions, as we witnessed him suffering with nothing to do to ease his pain.  At times, the pain was so great that there was no position to find comfort and sleep wasn't even possible.

He had every reason to be grumpy or irritable but wasn't, even when we made a wasted trip out for help or when two giant needles were shoved into his knee.  Through it all, he joked around, shared kindness and left people with a smile.  He continually amazes me.

I'd like to say his wife modeled the same but instead I stewed...and worried...and showed frustration.  Sunday I snapped at Noah to get out of bed and ready for church, then slumped onto a footstool in tears, pouring out my prayers at His feet.

I was saddened for Tim, scared for our future and angry this was happening.

When you've faced great suffering in life, there comes a point when you feel the quota has been met.  At times I just wanted to scream, haven't we been through enough?  Bitterness can easily creep in and fill the spaces, pushing out any chance for hope, if we let it.  I could feel emotions bubbling, as I battered back and forth with God.  From irritation to desperation.

Yet every time the enemy would hiss and bring up flashes of all we've endured, I would find myself countering with all God's blessings and promises.  And my heart would lift up scripture from deep within that would bring me peace.

In this life you will have trouble...

but do not worry about tomorrow...

for our present troubles are small...

not worth comparing to the glory that awaits

In the midst of Tim's struggles, our family has been in constant prayer for the new pastor God is calling to our church.  I know it isn't a coincidence that as I have served in this role, we've been under ongoing attacks.  I also know the enemy wants nothing more but to distract me from the task at hand. This could easily discourage me, yet the fact that Satan has been so busy fills me with excitement for what is to come.  Big spiritual attacks mean bigger plans for salvation.  

This I know above all....My God is greater.  My God provides.  My God's promises never fail.

Good - beyond my imagination - is on the horizon and I'm sustained in resting in this knowledge.  Joy fills me, despite the pain we are presently enduring, because I know who holds our future.

Even when we feel weak, we can be strong in God's power.  Even in suffering and pain, we can rejoice.

Ponderings of Pain

Hard to write a post about joy when the world seems so void of it.  But then again, that is what set me on this journey.  And what I found along the way is despite the pain that is always present somewhere, every day there is also joy to be found.

I know a lot about pain.  Both in the physical and emotional sense.

For the past decade, I've lived in chronic pain.  Though most days I get through it, and in many ways have learned to ignore it, there are times when it shuts me down.  No matter how much I want to do, everything stops.

It is constant but also comes in pulsing waves.  Pain on top of stronger pain.  Evenings and Saturdays seem to carry the most for me.  I stay so busy during the day my body doesn't have time to send the signals of pain to my brain, I guess.  But by the time I'm home and settled, it seeps in all around me.  And Saturdays are normally my body's way of saying, "Give me a break, woman!"  The pain is usually so present somewhere that, on a rare day there isn't any, it takes me awhile to process it.

Which is a lot like grief and loss.

The loss of a child is a pain unlike any other.  It is ever-present and sometimes even physically searing.  It also comes in waves, always when you least expect it and there is little to nothing you can do to stop it.  In the moments you are alone, when the day has ended or you awake to another reality they are gone, is when you want to shut down.  A random good day feels like coming up out of water.

For a moment, you can breathe.

And just like an old injury, you will always carry the pain from child loss with you.  As the years go by, it numbs a bit but is there if you press it.  Some days, certain seasons, it flares back up, filling your eyes with tears.


I started this post at some point this month, probably after something horrific on the news.  Sad to say I don't recall which story it was.  Because there are just so many of them.  Which is why most days, I avoid the news.  I've learned that to find joy sometimes means to avoid unnecessary pain.

Search for happiness, leave sadness.

To take one day at a time.  To step slowly, especially when the pain is tender.  To forgive yourself when you can't get out of bed.  And to relish the days you can.  To smile in the midst of pain because it is a reminder of what was before.  To remember the good and laugh when you share.  To know that scars are evidence of an adventure, a life well-lived, where love once was.  And is.

Thankful Thursday

November is days away. Because it holds the anniversary of our son's death, it is a difficult month. Each day on the calendar, as well as the holiday, is a constant reminder of our loss. It's a bittersweet time, as we waiver between favorite memories with Austin, and the horror of those last moments. While a month that is full of sadness for us, it is also a time of Thanksgiving.

One of my favorite traditions from my Grandma Coons was to gather as a family on that holiday and share at least one thing for which we were thankful. Last year, focusing on "Thanksgiving" is how I chose to face each day. Knowing the day would be brimmed in tears, I needed to start my mornings reflecting on what I still had to be thankful for. No matter the heartache, there are still so many blessings in our lives.

Each morning, I began with an affirmation, a statement of what I was thankful for. It carried me through my day, reminding me of a positive during such a negative time. This year, I plan to take it a step further. For the month of November, my blog (and life) will be focused on "Thankfulness" and I'm challenging myself to write a post every day.

Since losing Austin, we've also started the tradition of "Random Acts of Kindness" on his angel-versary. You see, that's what Austin was all about. I have so many cards and letters from those who knew and loved him, sharing small and simple, but powerful, moments they remember and treasure him for. Austin's legacy will always be his warm smile, loving hugs, and helping hands. Because November 29th is such a tragic reminder for us, it is how we've chosen to get through it. Helping strangers has lifted our broken spirits.

Last year, I asked others to join in his memory and I plan to do the same closer to the date. So many messages of support and sharing their acts came through via email and on his Facebook page, Remembering Austin. Each time a wave of grief would overcome me, a message of hope would arrive and hold me. It was such a wonderful way to remember such a beautiful soul.

With each random act, it was as if Austin's spirit carried on and it blessed our family. Because of that, I've decided to dedicate this entire month to my precious boy and will be striving to perform random acts of kindness every single day. It's the only way I know to get through a seemingly impossible time. Each day, each thankful moment, every act of kindness, will be a tribute to Austin, the life he led, and the inspiration of hoping to be a fraction of who he was. I hope you'll join me...

"Never let loyalty and kindness leave you! Tie them around your neck as a reminder.

Write them deep within your heart." - Proverbs 3:3