Serenity in the midst of pain

On Sunday of my sabbatical, while being serenaded by Chris Rice in his classic hymns CD Peace Like a River, I cooked up a breakfast of uber-healthy pancakes (1 c. fat free cottage cheese, 1 c. uncooked oatmeal, 6 eggs, pureed in blender) with lightly cooked fresh blueberries and pineapple, brought to me by the letters Y, U and M!

 I had to stop in the middle of breakfast to capture this heron (?) who landed right behind the boat dock. I scared him off while doing so and was hindered in witnessing his lift off by a tree:

He landed

I could tell he was aware of my presence even though I was a long-way off using a super zoom setting

When viewing the world through a zoom lens, I'm not very quick or intuitive. (Is that a metaphor for my life?)

I wrote all day and into the evening. When you don't know what you're writing, you can write pages and pages before you feel a direction start to form, or find yourself hitting upon a truth that needs to be told. It's very two-steps-forward-three-steps back.

I decided to take a break and hit my photos. I kept humming an old Wynona Judd song: Old Pictures. "Looking through my old pictures, faded photographs. Some of them bring me close to tears, others make me laugh. Old memories seem to come alive..." (double-clicking on photos will enlarge them)

Read

Old Pictures Lyrics

here.

I spent ALL the rest of Sunday and most of Monday spreading pictures out on this massive dining table and all around on the floor. I threw away probably a third of them...the duplicates, eyes-closed shots, the faded sceneries from long-ago vacation...all the ones nobody would ever put in a scrapbook or in a frame. I am proud to say that I have now reduced 30 years of photographs (not counting all the ones that are already scrapbooked) into the top three decorative boxes in this stack. It was a nice stroll through memory lane. I've got some really cute kids!

Katrina blowing bubbles to Caroline

Our family had a bluegrass band in the early 90s. This is us performing at Silver Dollar City in Branson. I'm on the left.

Jared trying to catch a frisbee with his stomach

Danica, when she found out I had bought her tickets to Wicked for her birthday

THEN, I went through my computer and organized all my digital shots in appropriate files with appropriate tags. In true "If you give a mouse a cookie" form, that made me remember that I never made the digital scrapbook of my parents 50th wedding anniversary party almost two years ago. I had it completed and uploaded by 11 p.m....hopefully it will arrive in time for my mom's 71st birthday on September 19!

I'm pretty excited about what I've accomplished. Now about that "pain" part...

Somewhere in the middle of all this (probably the two hours I sat cross-legged on the hardwood floor, getting up and down to sort pictures, I hurt myself. My low back/hip are KILLING me! I can't sit in one position for too long, but changing positions is excruciating.

(Can you spell O-L-D?)

Lord Byron said, "The great art of life is sensation, to feel that we exist, even in pain." Part of completing the puzzle I'm here to assemble is understanding my existence in the world. This morning, I'm pondering the fact of my pain in the midst of my serenity and wondering what God might be drawing me into through this path...

and I like that it's call ART.

A moment of perfect clarity

So....I got a job. I should start in the next few weeks. The enormous loss of our entire life savings and retirement several years ago through a Ponzi scheme (our investor is in the same prison as Bernie Madoff), combined with this recession, have made it imperative that I find "real" work, and I am beyond grateful that a friend of mine has asked me to be his executive administrative assistant for his high-tech, cutting-edge database software-as-a-service (SaaS) for churches.

I'm like a ping pong ball, going back and forth between excitement and fear, relief and sadness. I've been mostly a stay-at-home mom for the 26 years I've been mothering, finding ways to earn an income from within my own four walls while juggling it around parenting, marriage and ministry. Though it gets hectic at times, it has worked! It's been one of the most amazing blessings of my life. I see that now, of course, as it's about to end. The truth is, at times, I've wished for an escape to new horizons.

Well, here they come!

In one last hurrah, I'm currently engaging in a much-needed sabbatical at a friend's lake house for four whole days. It's not rustic--it's VERY nice!

I brought about two weeks worth of work with me...a couple of tasks that can never be done in the time and space of my own life...I'm either going to sort and organize all my photographs, or write, in hopes of finishing up the jigsaw puzzle of my past year's experiences that included Africa. Or try some combination of the two.

My first assignment was to sit on the porch gazing at the lake very early this morning while I waited for my coffee to brew. It's a private lake, and it was beyond quiet. It was perfectly still.

The view from the back porch

The movement on the waters was so slight it could only be called an occasional shimmer, as white skies were reflected back with mirror brightness. Every leaf on every tree was as motionless as those in a painting.

I thought I saw a few branches dancing high up and far-off, but they settled down immediately when I saw them, as though they were misbehaving children in church who've just been given a lowered-eyebrow-warning from a parent. Not a bird tweeted nor a cricket chirped. I even watched a cloud through a break in the trees for several minutes, and it didn't change shapes in the slightest! I remembered:

The Lord is in his holy temple, let all the earth keep silence before him.

This place is His temple. I am His temple. He is found in the praises of His people (Psalm 22:3), and in the still small voice after the fires and whirlwinds of our lives (1 Kings 19:11-12). He says "in quietness and confidence" will be our deliverance and strength (Isaiah 30:15).

It's hard to find still and quiet places in order to still and quiet our minds, but when we do, we will find that we already know something we've been striving to see (Psalm 46:10). The puzzle pieces that look to us to be scattered and jumbled across the surface of a table, are already assembled into the picture He's been painting. When that which is known in heaven becomes visible on earth (Matthew 6:10), we will see with perfect clarity the picture on the box. That is my earnest expectation this week.

Happy Sunday morning to you, with prayers for the clarity you are currently seeking!

Poem Archive

A compilation of the [bad] poetry I've written:

Morning 3/30/09
Everlasting 6/15/09
altar call 11/11/09
adrift 1/20/10  
full of emptiness 2/7/10
Dancing on the High-wire 2/23/10
tight-fitting skin 6/5/10
The Breath of Corruption 8/10/10

Archived Posts (2008-2009)

The template for this blog was an independent one and it had many glitches. I don't know enough about HTML to work them all out, so I never was able to get the full archive section to work. If you're interested, here are some of the old posts that don't show up on this list to the right.

Welcome to this Writer's Blog 11/10/08
I Believe (an awesome video) 11/12/08
Where Did I Put That Word? (an attempt at humor) 11/13/08
Every Drop of Sun 11/14/08
My Book is In! 11/26/08
A "Sign" of the Times (my first-booksigning) 12/7/08
An Unexpected Loss (nostalgia and pics of my firstborn) 12/19/08
Life Comes at You Fast 1/1//09
The Curious Phenomenon of Spiritual Renewal 1/15/09
Shut De Doh 1/15/09
Let Go and Let God 1/22/09
An Ephiphany about Truth-Telling 2/21/09
We Will Flee on Horses 4/16/09
Enlightenment 4/27/09
Wanting: A Cure for the Common Wait 5/7/09
A Minor Miracle 5/10/09
Clean Particle Emissions for World Peace 7/24/09
Singing a Hero 8/21/09 (about my mother)
What's your favorite pain-avoidance activity? 8/28/09
Where's My Round Tuit?  9/4/09
One Point for Tinsel Town 10/17/09
Some more "Physician, Heal Thyself" 11/2/09
Sometimes scales clatter to the floor 11/8/09
I'm certain there's too much certainty in the world 11/9/09
Speechless 11/30/09
How Will You Learn This Year? 12/30/09

Big emotions need space to flow

The River of Your Emotional Life 

by Bridgette Boudreau

Think of your emotions like a river.


When you overeat, overdrink, overshop, whatever, it’s like building a dam with sticks, but the only thing that happens is the river builds up behind the sticks until it flows over and through them. The river actually becomes more powerful and concentrated the more you try to stop it. The way to make a river gentler is by widening the banks and smoothing the slope, which in terms of your emotions means allowing them to exist. When your emotions feel big, create a bigger space for them. Allow them to flow. Don’t try to constrict them with dams made of Cheetos and cute shoes.

The Mystery of God's Will

Twenty years ago, a new friend of mine was telling me her story. I sympathized with the part where she got herself into some trouble as a teenager. What I meant was, "I could so easily have gotten into that situation myself." What I said was, "There, but for the grace of God, go I."

She stopped and said, "What do you mean by that?" She thought I was implying that she was in that situation because of a lack of God's grace, and if so, why did He give me grace to avoid that sin and not her? And maybe I was implying that, because, after all, hadn't I thanked God that I had not fallen into that pit?

Thus began my earnest voyage to uncover the mystery of God's will; a voyage, I might add, I'm still sailing on. For years I struggled to make sense of the complexity of the faith/prayer/God/healing connection. There obviously is one, but it's so inconsistent!

Sorting Out Responsibilities
Blaming and/or crediting God are two sides of the same coin. That coin is faith that God can influence what happens in our lives. I see three dilemmas when it comes to this universal tendency (for even nonbelievers will blame or credit God, the universe, Karma, etc.):

A) If we get what we want/prayed for, our souls beg for a source for our gratitude. "Who do I send my thank you card to?" If we don't thank God that we got the job, that our child arrived safely, that someone's illness was healed, why pray? The idea of not thanking Someone is unthinkable! And since "every good and perfect gift comes from the Father," (James 1:17),  it makes sense to thank HIM.

B) If we didn't get what we want, we naturally link this to some failing on our part or a fatal flaw in God's character.

C) As if that's not bad enough, the B's have to sit next to the A's in life. The very act of an A thanking God for answered prayers feels to the B's like a reproach for their insufficient faith, or that God plays favorites. In reality, for every "answered" prayer there are countless others that weren't, (and most likely, vice versa) despite tremendous faith on the part of the pray-ers. (Ask any A if they've ever been a B). And it doesn't help when A's actually do imply that a B's faith wasn't strong enough.

Our habit of linking any and everything we experience in a direct, cause-and-effect path to what God does and what we have done is part of the crazy-making. We try to determine whether it was our prayers/faith/lack of faith/sin/God's capriciousness, etc. that produced the outcome. Was it the number of prayers, the quality of the wording of the prayers, the way we held our mouth, the presence or absence of fear or doubt that made it work--or not?

As Clear as Mud 
I'd like to tell you that the Word of God will clear things right up, but scripture doesn't always help, especially when we line it up with the reality we have seen. For example, by saying, "ask and you will receive" (John 16:24), God HAS made it clear that we have some part in the outcome of events, and yet "time and chance happen to everyone" (Eccl. 9:11).

Sometimes we don't receive because our requests are for our own pleasure (James 4:3), yet He told us "in EVERYTHING...let your requests be made known to God" (Philippians 4:6).

He says that we will reap what we have sown (Galatians 6:7), but we all receive life, even though we deserve death (Romans 6:23)

It only takes a mustard-seed's-worth of faith to move mountains (Matthew 17:20), yet obviously none of us has enough of it, since none of us have moved mountains yet!

And here's one of my favorites: Sometimes prayers aren't "answered" because of a lack of faith (James 1:5-7), but Peter miraculously showed up at a prayer service for his release from prison and nobody believed it was him! (Acts 12:1-16). They didn't really believe God could answer their prayer, yet He did, despite their doubt!

What Works For Me
When the dust settles, the reality is that God's ways are a mystery. Trying to sort it out into some kind of flow-chart that explains it all has been a futile, head-banging exercise for me. The only thing that has given me peace is coming to:

an unwavering trust in His love for me  

a certain knowledge that there is a God and I am not Him

and
an almost fanatical belief that "all things work together for good"
(Romans 8:28)

These were not easy hurdles, but doing battle with these concepts has proven far more effective than doing battle with Him.

The mystery of God's will is a crazy labyrinth from which I eventually escaped with this simplistic conclusion:

He said we can judge something by the fruit it bears.
(Matthew 7:16)

The fruit of trusting His heart when I can't trace His hand in the events of my life is that I arrive more quickly at peace. I feel love. I behave better.(and more often than not, arriving at this state seems to be the point when my prayers are answered)

On the flip side,
if I doubt, I suffer.

~

God's will is not a puzzle to be solved, 

but a mystery to be lived into. 

It is a mystery whose contours emerge as we journey on.

Wendy Wright

~

Recommended reading: The Mystery of God's Will by Charles Swindoll

~

How do you feel about the mystery of God's will? 

Some Kind of Battle, Part V

I've been trying to report a mix of TYPES of battle, including those that are short term and those that are long term. Today's is definitely long-term. It's been going on for more than13 years. I'll start by quoting my friend Terry's friend John:

When I think of a woman who has a life of selflessness, my friend Terry Spencer comes to my mind. A single mother who loves and cares for her severally disabled 16 year old son( who has the mind of a 3 year old). He is the center of her life. Terry receives very little help from the father or either family. Also, she works fulltime as a nurse (working with children). She walks a path very few people could walk (including me). Now that is a story worth reading!!

Geoffrey has one of the Mitochondrial diseases. Brain degeneration when he was a toddler resulted in deafness, mental retardation and other difficulties. He cannot speak, bathe, dress or feed himself. Terry also has a grown, fully-functioning daughter with the disease, as well as Juvenile Diabetes.

Terry's schedule revolves around Geoffrey, yet she manages to work full-time as a nurse, attend church with him, maintain friendships and squeeze in an extra Bible study whenever she can. I have never heard her complain or act as if Geoffrey is a burden. In fact, she wrote me once that though God did not choose to heal Geoffrey, His hand has been evident in such things as the fact that "multiple specialists (at MS, Duke, and mitochondrial specialist at Children's) tell me that they cannot explain why he hasn't gotten worse.  When he was a baby, his brain was degenerating, shown on several MRIs.  Now it is not and genetic degeneration NEVER stops.  They also said that they cannot explain how he is functioning at the level he is because people with MRIs like his are in vegetative states.... yet he walks and interacts...No one can explain that."

Though she grieves the loss of Geoffrey's health, she is thankful to still have him with her and never feels sorry for herself. Geoffrey seems to bring purpose to her life, while at the same time gifting her with extreme compassion for others with difficulties. He clearly loves her and is in-tune with her moods.

As Terry's friend John said, "[hers] is a story worth reading!"

Some Kind of Battle, Part IV

I was unable to post yesterday because I was helping someone in their battle.

We met with a couple last week who is in the most painful and unenviable position I have ever seen in all our years of ministry. They are literally walking an emotional, spiritual and legal mine field where every step, no matter how careful or prayerful, WILL effect someone negatively. Sadly, in the six months since they started fighting this battle, they have found few people to care, listen and pray with them. I think the thing that broke my heart the most was how bad they felt for feeling all the things they were feeling, how much they needed to hear that it was reasonable that they would be hurt, angry and scared.

As per Satan's usual tactic, the battle has gone within and now their marriage is under attack. While spending several hours with them yesterday, I kept thinking, "how does one let God fight this battle?" In most battles, there are physical things you have to do and conflicts you have to enter into, which could easily escalate to US fighting the battle.

I saw their struggles and concluded that our job, when we're letting the battle belong to the Lord, is to:

1) Fight the FEAR that constantly threatens to overwhelm us, blinding us to the land mines in our landscape and stealing our energy through hopelessness.

2) Fight the LIES of Satan that lead us to jump to conclusions, assign meanings and act out of our flesh.

3) Fight to keep LOVING everyone involved (ourselves included), no matter what they're doing.

4) Fight for FAITH and a conscious determination to trust God's promises and his heart, even though everything around me says I can't.


We fight these battles because every earthly battle is ultimately a battle between God and Satan for our hearts.

Some Kind of Battle, Part III

I do not begin to place this battle alongside the others in the area of magnitude, but it did carry an emotional whollop, and I share it because I want you to validate your own battles that aren't tragic enough to make the headlines. I have been fighting the battle of my son Jared's accidental enrollment in the wrong high school for almost two weeks. My first contact with the district was not promising, They said he would probably have to start at the wrong school because there just wasn't time to pull the necessary committee together to make the decision this close to the start of school. This was when I hit my knees. By the next day, they called to tell us a meeting was scheduled on Monday. We had the meeting with the grim-faced committee this morning. It was like they were purposely going out of their way to be unencouraging and serious. Still, I feel good about it. The beauty of this battle was that several seemingly unrelated spiritual battles were won in me on the "stage" of this conflict.

Jared has a friend who plays sports with him. His name is Boris. In May, his sister asked if he could stay with us this summer so he could attend football conditioning training. Their mother was sick and in the hospital and they (five children, ranging from 20 to 8) were staying with a friend who lived too far to transport Boris everyday. We said yes. On July 1st, Boris's mother passed away from breast cancer. His father lives in France and is not a suitable guardian. The friend they are living with has only known them a year. Last week he moved with them into an apartment so they could continue in their same schools. Boris's 20-year old sister Rolanda has managed her own college enrollment as well as one of her sister's, and the enrollment of the three younger children (and all that goes with that), while grieving the loss of her mother. Boris is a sweet kid who started calling me mom while he was here. He plans to be back often, but we miss him.

Your face is beautiful
And Your eyes are like the stars
Your gentle hands have healing
There inside the scars
Your loving arms they draw me near
And Your smile it brings me peace
Draw me closer oh my Lord
Draw me closer Lord to Thee

Captivate us, Lord Jesus
Set our eyes on You
Devastate us with Your presence
Falling down
And rushing river, draw us nearer
Holy fountain consume us with You
Captivate us Lord Jesus, with You

Your voice is powerful
And Your words are radiant bright
In Your breath and shadow
I will come close and abide
You whisper love and life divine
And Your fellowship is free
Draw me closer O my Lord
Draw me closer Lord to Thee

Let everything be lost in the shadows
Of the light of Your face
Let every chain be broken from me
As I’m bound in Your grace
For Your yoke is easy, Your burden is light
You’re full of wisdom, power and might
And every eye will see You

 

Some Kind of Battle, Part 2

Today is my second installment of highlighting battles I've witnessed up close recently. Most of them have that special combination of praise due along with continued prayers needed.

I didn't write about this while it was going on, but our preacher's 11-year old son Skyler was dangerously sick for six weeks or so with a variety of scary and deadly diagnoses being floated and some of them confirmed: Tuberculosis, Viral meningitis, MRSA. At one point, he was battling not only for his life, but his sanity, as complications from the illness led to an internal rash that doctors said felt like ants crawling around inside him, while an external rash turned him blazing red. He still has some surgery and recovery ahead of him, but he turned a corner and has managed to eek out a few weeks of summer fun and is feeling great. Though there was a physical battle involved, Skyler's mother Tara became the closest thing I've ever seen to a Warrior Princess, battling Satan, building up her family and her own strength through the word of God and enlisting literally thousands of prayer warriors through social media. She taught me alot about fighting battles.

Recently, I mentioned in my blog post Like There's No Tomorrow that I have a friend (Laura) who is experiencing an accidental adoption. We had one of those; where you're not planning one, but the opportunity falls in your lap. Like most adoptions, it's got it's scary moments as hormonal birthmothers and emotional birth-grandmothers waver and panic, and reluctant birth-fathers remain indecisive. In the meantime, they are bonding with sweet Kaelyn and trusting God...like there's no tomorrow. They will not rest well until the adoption is final. From my own experience, I know that these are tumultous times for the heart.

My friend Barbara and her husband Tom have been fighting a battle to protect their beloved hill-country property from neighbors set on destroying their view, their eco-system, their property values. This week, their pond was purposely polluted with toxic waste. Many many hours are having to be diverted to legal processes, but even those will not fix the problem any time soon or unbreak their hearts at the violation of the dream home they have been toiling for years to create.(That light green blob in the center is from the oil and diesel pumped into their pond.). Barbara blogs here, and a bunch of other places.

If you have a battle of any kind, I hope you will take courage that you are not alone. I hope you will be like my friend Tara and reach out for reinforcements. I pray you will let God do your fighting as you use your energy just to cling to Him.

Please let me tell your story. (calvertgina@gmail.com)

"The battle is the Lord's."

(1 Samuel 17:47)

Some Kind of Battle, Part I

You may have noticed a lot of talk about battles lately on my blog and facebook page. I've been, more than ever, tuned into the compassion Plato called for when he said, "Be kind to everyone, for everyone is fighting some kind of battle." Every day that passes shows me just how true this is. When I take the time to become involved in other people's lives and stories, the struggle and the strength I witness inspire me to lift my nose from the grindstone of my own battles. It implores me to care and to feel, not only for them, but for myself.

I saw Eat Pray Love last night, and joined author Elizabeth Gilbert's facebook page this morning, where she posted: "Just about everybody has a story that would stop your heart and that everybody wants to tell and nobody has anyone listening." 


Over the next few days, I want to write in celebration for answered prayers in fierce battles and to ask for prayer warriors to join me in interceding for those that still rage. 

As Plato reminds us, kindness and compassion are the real need in the fighting of battles. Who do you know that could use a little recognition that they are barely holding their head above water? Sometimes, just knowing that somebody sees is all it takes to strengthen them in their battle.

Whether it's you or someone you know, I would like to hear about that battle in order to enlist others in prayer for you and tell your/their story in one of my blog posts this week.(It can be told anonymously, if desired). Email me at calvertgina@gmail.com and let's start talking.

My first two contain a song of praise as well as a need for fresh reinforcements:

On May 22 , in a blog post called Living Your Life is So Difficult, It has Never Been Attempted Before, I referenced my friend Jennifer who was pregnant with twins. One of the twins was at risk, not growing at all. The doctors made it their top priority to prolong the pregnancy as long as possible. She made it to 29 weeks, which saved her life. Kaylen weighed one pound at birth. Today Kaylen weighs more than three pounds! Although much smaller than her brother Dylan, she's doing great. The praise today, however, is that Dylan, who weighed barely over three pounds at birth, came home today, 13 days before his original due date and weighing almost 7 pounds! Parents Jennifer and Landon are EXHAUSTED in every way you can be exhausted, and understandably ambivalent about the "sweetly-bitter" homecoming of Dylan, while Kaylen remains in the hospital. The daily trips to the hospital in addition to both their jobs and getting up with Dylan every few hours is pretty difficult to maintain.

In that same post, I mentioned a new friend, Tara Storch, whose 13-year old daughter Taylor had been killed in a skiing accident over spring break. Taylor's family donated five of her organs and changed five lives. The Storch's have turned their grief into activism for organ donation, becoming the first donors to locate their recipients outside the donor program (through Facebook!), establishing Taylor's Gift Foundation and capturing the attention of Hollywood. (Todd Storch quit his job to make this his life's work).Though I am inspired by the Storch's heroism, one look at Taylor's picture reminds me that their grief is still fresh and searing.

**  It takes less than a minute to become a donor, and I urge you to do that. I did it this morning! 

Texas has the lowest donation rate of all...let's change that! **

If you are fighting a battle (big or small), I want to encourage you to show compassion for yourself and your reactions. Don't beat yourself up for feeling, grieving, being angry, dropping balls, or not being perfect while you're going through your hard time. The kinder you can be to yourself, the more strength you will muster for your battle.

"He knows our frame; He remembers that we are dust." 

(Psalm 103:14) 

"The battle is the Lord's."

(1 Samuel 17:47)

"You have armed me with strength for the battle."

(Psalm 18:39)

Like There's No Tomorrow

A friend of mine is going through the terrifying battle of adoption. She has already brought home her new little girl, but they are awaiting the decision about the father's relinquishment of his rights. She said that she felt herself holding back, not calling herself a Mommy, not giving all her love to the baby for fear that tomorrow she would be taken away. She finally decided to call herself Mommy and love Kaelyn "like there's no tomorrow."

We've all heard of taking things "one day at a time" and "living in the moment." Something about that phrase "like there's no tomorrow" in the context of a scary adoption (BEEN THERE!) gave me an unexpected clarity about this phrase I've always used without really getting it.

 Katrina w/ Danica the day we brought her home from the hospital

In his book "Reinventing the Body, Resurrecting the Soul," Deepak Chopra speaks of the physical toll living in past and future moments puts on our bodies. He says, "living as if you have all the time in the world is functional immortality. This happens to be how every cell in your body is already living. Immortality comes naturally; giving in to time is what requires effort. I'm reminded of a therapist I know whose patients' lives seem out of control. He surprises them by saying, "Go home and clean your house. Make your bed every morning. Don't skip breakfast for a week. Get to work fifteen minutes early. Then come back and we'll discuss what's bothering you." He wants to see if they are capable of addressing the simple things that clutter our awareness before turning to deeper psychological issues. Even what looks like a small change can retune the body. That's why we work up to the most damaging things--trauma, violence, and chaos--by starting with the easiest."

"If your body can run on dozens of clocks at the same time, each kept in perfect sync, this raises the question of where the master timekeeper resides. It implies that there is a place that is unaffected by time, like sitting on the solid riverbank to watch the constantly changing motion of a river. This place must be outside time, which means that in some way your body knows what it means to be timeless. Functional immortality was born here, in the awareness that time cannot touch us."

Don 't hurry. Don't worry. You're only here for a short visit. 

So don't forget to stop and smell the roses.

Walter Hagen

As the beginning of school approaches, I find myself living like there are a zillion tomorrows and feeling my body and mind rebel by shutting down, as in earlier hurried days when my oldest daughter actually went slower the faster I asked her to go. I have a sneaking suspicion that living like there's no tomorrow will actually help me accomplish today's task much more efficiently. 

I think I'll interrupt my busy day by going for walk, 

eating some breakfast and 

making my bed, like 

I have all the time in the world.

behold, now is the accepted time; 

behold, now is the day of salvation.

2 Corinthians 6:2 

The breath of corruption

I have been privileged to watch some intense faith battles in the last few weeks, and I see a common theme. The battle seems to turn the corner about the time the warrior cries out, "Where are you, God? Why have you forsaken me?" In experienced veterans, this can take quite a while. It's almost as if God cannot relent until the soldier has discovered the chink in her faith, the edge of her certainty, and confesses, "there it is, God: my doubt. Yet still I will believe, though you slay me. Help my unbelief." Before that, relief can take place, but growth cannot occur on deep levels until that moment arrives.

The same is true of me. My long faith keeps me plugging along, taking hit and after hit, until one day, that proverbial straw hits and I lose it. I cry and cry and cry. That happened this weekend. Rewinding a bit: This summer, we took in a 14-year boy who became orphaned on July 1st. It has been a privilege, but heart-rending nonetheless. Since August 1st, we had experienced one minor catastrophe after another. A series of car repairs were needed (a tire on my car, a tire on Steve's car, both tires on the motorcycle--which is our back-up vehicle, Steve's radiator, my brakes, and to top it all off, I broke off the mirror on a friend's car).

There were health and dental  issues, major financial concerns, relationship struggles and time pressures. I kept saying, "It's only money," "God will take care of us," "This will all work out somehow." The final straw was finding out two weeks before school starts that my son, a freshman, is accidentally enrolled (through MY error) at the wrong school and probably won't be able to be transferred before school starts.

As I said, I cried and cried and cried. All the time wondering, "What is wrong with you? People are dying, divorcing, losing jobs, having real tragedies." It was during the ensuing time spent with God yesterday that an ancient spiritual battle was revealed to me. I suddenly understood that the difficulties of the summer and especially August had penetrated through the strong parts of my faith and reached the edge where I would not say, but definitely wondered in my heart of hearts, "Where are you, God?"

I continue to see the story unfolding of what God was doing in me through my Africa "trial." This morning my time with God resulted in a poem about that process in me, loosely mirroring the events of the death and resurrection of Christ in Matthew 27:45 through 28:9, which followed his actual trial.

Darkness overtakes daylight

from the 6th hour to the 9th

A keening cry echoes through the

catacombs of the heart--

"Why hast Thou forsaken me?"--

rending a veil and unsettling the

earth's foundations.

Stones split, graves open

The "breath of corruption"*

escapes from the whited tomb

where dead men's bones begin

to rattle and collect themselves

Ancient spirits stir and

rise, ghostly and putrid,

seeping like apparitions through

the now unsealed seam,

to appear naked among the living
in the healing light

 

I am ashamed,

and those around me are 

repulsed and afraid, but

He arises once again in me

having stormed the grave of 

my buried wounds

emerging triumphant with

victory and healing

in His wings.

As I go to tell His disciples,

Behold, He meets me on the way, saying

 "Rejoice!"

And I do.




*"the breath of corruption" - a phrase from Fyodor Dostoevsky in The Brothers Karamazov