"Where feet may fail"

People say that you can see God in the simple things - a baby's smile, a beautiful sunrise, a lover's touch. And I believe that. But how do you come to know Him? When things were good, success abounding, I acknowledged God. I praised Him, gave Him the glory, all that good stuff we followers of Christ know we should do in times of plenty or want. Then when things were challenging, I continued to worship my God, to praise Him, to fix my eyes on Him and claim that He was all I needed, He was getting me through, and that He was the source of all my strength. But when things became unbearable, when the one thing I had placed above Him, the one thing I really believed I couldn't live without, the one thing that I had actually really placed my hope in, let me down, that's when I truly came to the end of myself and started to really see - and trust - God, to really know how magnificent and awesome and powerful and merciful He is. It's telling that, with so much else stripped away, I have come to know Him more intimately and that, after I've lost what many consider to be so much - that loss allowed by God - I trust Him more than I ever have. I'm still working on it, but the worship, the praise, the glory I give Him - they mean so much more to me now. He means so much more to me now. And my faith is stronger now than when "everything" was great. Interesting.

"You call me out upon the waters,

the great unknown where feet may fail.

And there I find You in the mystery,

in oceans deep, my faith will stand." Hillsong

The Great Physician: The doctor is in!

Let me ask you this: If your friend told you she had been hit by a car while training for an upcoming 5K and that, as a result, she couldn't stand on her leg without excruciating pain, what would you tell her? Ok, so now let's assume you're a sensible person (which I'm sure we all claim to be) and you tell your friend to get to the doctor's office right away. You may even offer to take her there yourself if you're able. Now, let's say she listens to you, goes to the doctor and he tells her that her leg is broken and she needs a cast. Your friend calls you and says, well, the doctor says I need a cast for my broken leg, but I need to use my leg, so I don't think I'm going to get the cast. As a sensible person - and a good friend - what would  you tell your friend next? Let me guess: in not so many words, you would tell her to hang up the phone, get her leg set and deal with it for as long as the doctor says. Right?

Now, let's say that after the prescribed amount of time, said friend has her cast removed. She calls you and says that, although the excruciating pain is gone and she only has occasional twinges of discomfort, the doctor has advised her that she cannot go back to training for several weeks, and that if she does, she will cause permanent damage that will ensure she never runs another 5K without a lot of pain and ongoing discomfort. Would you tell your friend to ignore her doctor's advice? That from what you figure, she's followed doctor's orders long enough, and that she deserves the joy of running a 5K. "I mean, the guy who hit you with his car is out there running 5Ks like crazy. You deserve some of your own."

Hmmm...I doubt it. Then why is it that many of us, even those who profess to follow Christ, relax our standards a little when the body part in question is the heart? People who haven't had the chance to heal - truly heal - from emotional devastation should not be encouraged to "pay it forward" by entertaining anything even remotely resembling a romantic relationship. It's just foolish. Foolish to think that because someone isn't breaking down every five seconds anymore, she's ready to go out and get back in the mix. In any way. The pain of a broken heart lasts so much longer than the initial despair, anger, hurt and other outward signs of the utter devastation it causes. And the repercussions of using that broken body part before it is fully mended are potentially much more far-reaching than running a 5K on a leg that hasn't set properly. You're not the only one who gets hurt - everybody in your life does.

As hard as it is at times, I am letting the Great Physician heal me, love me and make me feel precious, valued and beautiful before I let anybody throw his hat in the ring - even if he "just wants to get to know me."

"You walk with me through fire, and You heal all my disease..."

The blessing of isolation

I am getting a divorce. That statement has been rolling around in my head all day - not because I just realized it, but because I realized that, for me, until I write those words, it isn't real and I can't move on. So, I am getting a divorce. And, surprise of all surprises, I have decided to share what I've learned (and what I'm still learning) on this journey that far too many people have been on, are on, and will be on in the future.

Contrary to my nature, I will begin not with one of the first lessons I learned months ago, but with the most recent - one I have learned over the course of the past week:

One of the worst things I have experienced during this breakup is a terrible sense of isolation. I am a relational creature, you see, so when my most important human relationship fails, I am left feeling bereft, heartbroken, and most of all, isolated.

Surrounded by prayers and love, family and friends, I still found myself feeling, in my heart of hearts, that I had been set adrift, left hanging out to dry by friends who didn't know what someone in my situation needs. The truth is that, no longer a part of a loving couple, no longer a co-parent in a two-parent family, no longer a logical addition to the list for gatherings that include mothers, fathers and children I am drifting, but not because my friends don't know what I need - it's because they can't supply the most important thing I need. They can't fill that yawning void the end of my marriage has left in my heart and in my life. And, lo and behold, they're not supposed to.

The lesson I've learned in the last week is that, as much as I would have preferred that this cup would have passed me by, it didn't, and my feeling of isolation is a necessary part of this journey. As I grieve, heal and redefine my life, I need to keep my focus upward so I can stay extremely close to God. And I can't do that if I keep looking outward for comfort and answers. While He created me to need fellowship and human relationships, He created me to need Him above all else. And how glorious He has shown Himself to be through this by providing just the right people I need at just the right times, but especially by making sure that nobody else is available when it needs to be just my Father and me. He has shown me that I am never alone.

"In the storm, in the rain, through the good times and in the pain, You're always beside me."

Healing Day

Although I wrote the following poem several years ago, it wasn't until recently that I understood what it was really about. You see, when God inspired the words in me, I was in the most committed of relationships - I was married to the man of my dreams - and so, to my thinking, had no reason to write the words I did.

Then, in the way life has of knocking everything on its ear, the words suddenly had a very real, personal meaning to me. And not for the reason you may think, but because I realized that God had given me the words so that I might pull them out and allow them to minister to me at such a time as this. This latest trial of mine has opened my eyes to the truth that this poem was never about a man or a relationship. The poem is about fear. And the healing that comes when we let it go.

Healing Day

Alive, the sky,

with trails of light,

the air with morning dew,

erasing darkness 

of the night

and memories of you.

And with each ray

of morning sun,

my broken heart will mend

until each memory,

each one,

becomes nothing again.

But if the rain 

precedes the beams

of light that I await,

its healing drops

will blend with tears

that flow from the floodgates,

until there's nothing 

left of pain

that's all that's left of you.

The new day heals,

with sun or rain,

as light reveals the truth.

What Happens in the Valley ...

... shouldn't stay there.

(I wrote this in 2008. At the time, I was coming out of a tough time in my life that I had written about on this blog. I think it's fitting that I start this up again with this post. I hope that it ministers to someone and that those of you who were with me through that time four years ago will accept my thanks again for being there for me.)

I've been out of the valley for a while now, waiting for just the right words to write about my freedom. I have been waiting for a few months for something inspired to come to me that would allow me to wax poetic about this life-changing experience - something that someone out there would read and feel that her (or his) life had changed the moment the words were consumed by hungering eyes. And so I wait.

And wait.

And wait.

Okay, I'm not known for my patience, so I'll just go with what comes to me today and share the awe-inspiring insights at a later date. When they come to me. If they come to me. Here's what I've got today: I'm convinced that I made it through this latest valley because of two very important things.

1. I was able to share some of what I was going through with people who were willing to listen to, pray for and love and support me. Thank you so much for that. 
2. When I stopped being afraid of being in the valley - when I truly opened my heart and listened - I discovered that I had never been alone. My God had been waiting for me to open up and let Him in to heal, to comfort, to love me. He sat quietly next to me in the valley, patiently waiting. Then, when I was finally ready to see that, He went to work. And I thank Him.

The following poem, originally published April 24, 2008, was written on the trail out of that valley.

He seeks me in the darkest,

deepest reaches of my heart

and knows the hidden yearnings of my soul.

He fills me with His essence,

with the fullness of His love -

His breath of life alone can make me whole.

He meets me where I’m searching

for a hand that I can hold

and leads me to the place where I am loved.

He soothes me with His presence,

gently whispering in my ear,

“Don’t worry – in My eyes you are enough.”

He saves me from the shadows

and He calms me with His touch,

embracing me just like a faithful friend.

His promise is a covenant

He’s made with me in faith

that He will be my lover ‘til the end.

He loves me with a fierceness,

with a power that conveys

His strength and His desire for my heart.

Protector and my Lover,

He pursues me night and day -

our joining means we’ll never be apart.

What Would My Savior Have Me Do?

My last post, just about nine months ago, was about adversity. Since then, believe it or not, adversity has not changed - it still affects all of us. What has changed, I can hope, is me - how I cope, how I adapt, how I choose to become better, rise to life's challenges and help others do the same. Even in the midst of devastation.

Last week's earthquake in Haiti has, I'm sure, affected anyone who has a heart and can lay claim to any positive human emotion. For some of us, it hit close to home, for others, it hit home. So far, I've lost one uncle in the catastrophe and have at least one first cousin and several distant cousins who are unaccounted for. Other family members are affected, either because they are there or because they are here and have lost people close to them. I do not know many of these relatives. Some, I have not seen or spoken to in years. And yet, they all are, always have been and always will be, my people. And they're suffering or they're gone.

My prayers go up for all the injured, the miracles waiting to happen - the people who are trapped and will be rescued, the family members, the friends, the relief workers, the troops and everyone who is saddened by the catastrophic effects of an earthquake of this magnitude on an over-populated city that was already ravaged by poverty, hunger and disease. And for those of us who would like to do more, but don't know where to begin or how best to use our gifts to help, I send up a special prayer. I send up a prayer that we would start with the most important and the easiest thing we can do. Pray. It doesn't cost anything and it conquers everything.

You didn't spare Your Son

so You could save me -

You let Him die up on that cross.

You sacrificed the One

to spare the many -

sent Him to find and save the lost.

The blood He shed for us

poured out in rivers.

He suffered just to cleanse my sin.

His blameless body bruised,

its battle over

so that salvation might begin.

What would I do to help

Your precious children,

to show Your love to one or two?

How do I share a drop

of what You've given?

What would my Savior have me do?

How does imperfect flesh

reflect Your mercy?

How can my mortal soul thank You?

How do I touch one life

or help the many?

Please tell me, Savior, what to do.

Adversity

It's been a while, huh? Well, there have been some developments in my household that have kept me away. For those of you who don't know, my husband lost his job in January, a loss that has repercussions I don't care to discuss at this moment. Then, in March, we found out that one of his sisters had been brutally murdered. I don't have to tell you that it's been a trying, shocking time on the old home front. 

As difficult as it is to keep the faith right now, we are not alone and, sadly enough, still better off than many. You see, we are one of an exorbitant number of families facing unexpected challenges right now. People do it every day. I would venture a guess that not a second goes by without someone, somewhere, receiving life-altering news. Adversity does not spare any of us. And, as we've recently realized, it doesn't wait until we've recovered from its last jab to hit us with its powerful right hook.

Recently, a man for whom I have a great deal of respect told us that "adversity is a liberator." That really hit home with me. You see, when my husband lost his job, it immediately became clear to me that, other than the psychological effects that losing his livelihood would have on him, we hadn't really lost anything - nothing irreplaceable, anyway. For the first time in a long time, I started to think in terms of how much we really do have when you strip away all the stuff. Don't get me wrong - I love my house, the club, all the perks that our hard work has brought us. And anyone who knows me knows that I will never be one of those people who sells all of her stuff, buys a tent and moves into the woods with her family. I am not now, nor have I ever been, a minimalist in that sense. And yet, with my family by my side and my God at my back, I will walk away from all of it, without looking back, if I have to.

What I realized was that the adversity at this point of our life has freed me to let go of the things that aren't necessary. It has freed me to find out that, as India Arie says, "I am not my hair" (substitute hair for house, car, whatever I've been clinging to). I am not these things, my satisfaction does not come from my bank account or my social standing. It has freed me to make some decisions - to stop putting off the things I believe I was called to do, the things I believe I am required to do, without the clutter of trying to hold on to things that are temporary and replaceable. It has freed me to focus on what matters most - my family and faithful friends, being present in every moment with them, our health. It has freed me to really appreciate the amazing man I married, to develop a new level of respect for all that he has done and is willing to do to take care of, provide for and cherish his family. I have always respected and loved him, but now, I truly realize how blessed I am to be by his side in good times and bad.

Adversity has, strangely enough, alleviated some of the fear I never knew I lived with. The unknown - what would we do if - no longer is a hypothetical. It becomes "what's the next step in this adventure we're on?" It becomes, "How did I not know how amazing these people I call family and friends are?" It becomes, "No matter what happens, we can get through it with faith and a firm commitment to what matters most." 

I don't know what the reasons are or God's plans to use these challenges. What I do believe, with every fiber of my being, is that He will use them, is using them, for our good and the good of His kingdom. What I hold on to is that Adversity, when it liberates us to do all the things we now must do, becomes Hope - hope for something new, something better.

Hope is There

Hope is there when the storm is raging.

Hope is there when you've lost it all.

Hope is there when the darkness falls.

Have no fear, hope is there.

Hope is there when your world is crumbling.

Hope is there when the pain abounds.

Hope is there, even in destruction,

even in despair, hope is there.

Hope is there for us to lean on.

It will guide us through it all.

And when the suffering's more than you can bear,

say a prayer, hope is there.

Hope is there when the battle's over,

Hope is there when you've lost the fight.

Hope is there when the tears are flowing.

Hope is there, hope is there.

Hope is there for us to lean on.

It will guide us through it all.

And when the suffering's more than you can bear,

say a prayer, hope is there.

Say a prayer, hope is there.

Just say a prayer, hope is there.

Hope is there.

Happy New Year

I wanted to write this yesterday, on the first day of the new year, but, as is often the case, life does not wait upon our whims and mine kept going on, as if it didn't know that it was a holiday. So, I write my New Year's message on the second day of the year. That's better than doing it in July, right? 

I hope everyone reading this is as excited as I am about the new year. Things are not going the way many of us would like them to, but, as a friend of mine said on New Year's Eve, that's all the more reason to celebrate, to ring in the new year - we had to put an end to the last year to arrive at the hope and promise of a new one. Still, in the spirit of saying a fond farewell to 2008, I will focus on some amazing things that have touched my life in the last 12 months (this list is not in any particular order and definitely is not all-inclusive):

• My family is loving, healthy, resilient and intact.
• We are still okay financially - great jobs, roof over our heads, food in our bellies, etc.
• My dear, dear friend completed chemotherapy and has taken steps to live life to its fullest.
• I am blessed with the most amazing family and group of wonderful friends (some new and some tried and true) that I could ever ask for.

Last, but certainly not the least of my blessings from 2008, is the realization that last year's leg of my journey brought me - that I am, always have been, and always will be involved in the most amazing love affair of all time - my Savior's love affair with me. While I don't do New Year's resolutions (I set short-, mid- and long term goals for myself in the new year), I resolve this year to actively explore my part in this love affair, to do what I can to uphold my end of this relationship and give back to God - not what He gives me, because that is not possible, but to give what He created me to give, to work on being whom He created me to be, to focus on loving, worshipping, praising and glorifying Him the way He uniquely equipped me to love, worship, praise and glorify Him.

I wish you a blessed and prosperous 2009 and thank you for having joined me on the journey through 2008.

He wraps me in protection, 

in security, in love,

strong hands that bring such comfort 

to my soul.

This world and its distractions 

melt away beneath His touch.

In wonder, I let go of 

all control.

I'm letting go completely 

of myself, of all but Him

to let His love, His goodness 

fill me up.

I revel in His power, 

in His strength and all He gives,

and when I thirst, He's there to 

fill my cup.

I seek Him with a hunger 

that will never go away,

a need to feel His presence 

in my life.

I'm nourished by His nectar, 

by His faithful, holy grace,

completed when I'm walking 

in His light.

I love Him, I adore Him, 

my beginning and my end,

the Rock that keeps me steady 

in His way.

I live to give Him glory, 

to put a smile upon His face,

my purpose is to please Him 

night and day.

Thank You

I'd like to thank everyone who took action when asked. Not only did many of you take the time to read the poems and rank them, you shared with me your reasons, opinions and feelings about them. Thank you for taking your precious time to help me decide on something that means so much to me. There was no easy answer (which kind of surprised me) or clear-cut winner. Because of that, I chose not to enter the contest at all. KIDDING! Seriously, I have entered the contest and will let you know the outcome, as well as the results of the voting on this blog, as soon as I know the results of the contest.

Thank you, thank you, again and again, for your help and encouragement!

Action Requested

Okay, so I need your help with something here. I am going to enter one or more poems in a Christian poetry contest and I can't decide which of them to use. So, I am going to trust my one or two faithful blog readers to tell me which poem(s) to enter. Here's how it will work:

Read the three poems and rate them with #1 being your top choice and #3 your last choice. You can either respond by sending me an e-mail or by sending a comment (of course, I'd prefer a comment, but I know some of you are shy, so ...) to the blog. I really do need your help, so please take the time to read and rate the poems. I will submit the poem(s) based on the responses I receive. Please submit your responses by Tuesday, Aug. 26.

Thank you in advance! (And please forgive typos - I can't even keep my eyes open right now!)

Option 1: The Woman You Are

I am intimately acquainted
with each beat of your heart,
with the depths of your soul
and the woman you are.

I created you with a purpose,
goals you're meant to achieve,
things you're meant to accomplish
with the gifts you've received.

Though some may seem like burdens,
gifts that you'd like to trade,
winning's not all in the cards,
but the way that they're played.

Use your gifts for My purpose,
use your gifts for My will -
they are yours, with my blessing,
for your role to fulfill.

That stubborn streak they talk about
is persistence, you see.
You will need it, I know,
to do your work for me.

And the temper that you cry about
is the passion I've sewn
in the fabric of you -
it will help you go on.

You're aggressive, dramatic
and you overreact,
not to mention the things
others say that you lack.

You could stand to smile more sweetly,
hold your head a different way.
People will always try to change you,
always have something to say.

Don't you know that I created you
and I don't make mistakes?
Every gift I have given,
in My time, has its place.

You have all you require,
it's been given - it's done.
All your needs have been met,
every battle's been won.

Now it's up to you, Beloved,
to use what I've given you -
Use it well and be rewarded.
All I've promised will come true.


Option #2: The Daughters of Eve

The essence of me
that I carry inside
is the beauty you see
when I don’t run and hide.

It’s in every look,
it’s in all that I say
and the way I react
to my life every day.

In the way that I love
with my whole heart and soul
and invite you to learn
all that my beauty holds.

In the way that I offer
all the love that I know
and entice you to share,
to come bask in its glow.

In the way that my presence
draws you in from the start,
how it welcomes you into
the warmth of my heart.

It’s the trust I display
when I let others in,
how I freely give all
that I am from within.

It’s the power in me,
it’s my gift from above,
how my God crafted me
to distribute His love.

Most of all, it is God,
and His will, I believe,
that His beauty would shine
through the daughters of Eve.


Option #3: When I Say that I Love Jesus

When I say that I love Jesus,
I’m not saying I’m a saint,
‘cause I know nobody’s perfect
and can promise you I ain’t

When I say that I love Jesus,
I’m not trying to prove the point
that I’m the saved and sanctifiedest
holy roller in the joint.

When I say that I love Jesus,
He’s the Saviour of my soul,
I’m not speaking out in judgment –
that’s just not the way I roll.

When I say that I love Jesus,
I don’t mean to shut you out.
It’s just my way of expressing
what my life is all about.

When I tell you I love Jesus,
I’m not saying you love Him less
or that you can’t choose your own way
to make sure that love’s expressed.

All I’m saying is that He’s
my All in All, my truth, my light –
He’s my Father and He’s shown me
that I’m precious in His sight.

So when I say, “I love You, Jesus,"
why not think of it this way –
they’re the same three words that every
father’s little girl should say.



Think of this as practice for the election - let your voice be heard. Thanks!

Unfinished Portrait

The artist sees the portrait in His mind,
but 'til He's finished, I will never find
the purpose in what was meant to be,
or the precious beauty that He sees in me.
The barren canvas slowly comes to life
with colors that reflect the shades of me.
How brilliantly He paints my soul in time
and bares the depths that only He can see.


People usually look back and reflect on life at the end of the year. Or at the beginning of the year. Or after some major, life-changing event has occurred in their lives. Well, I'm a rebel and I am going to reflect now. In August.

I have had one very eventful year. It's been emotional, draining, full of ups and downs and valleys and speed bumps and pot holes, along with the good, the bad and the ugly. I probably cried more tears, laughed much harder and gained a much deeper understanding of what it is to love and be loved than I ever had before. So far.

I have grown in ways that were painful, healed in ways that surprised me, and received gifts that humbled me. I have changed more in this one year of my life than I ever thought possible. For now.

With all the changing and growing and learning and loving and hurting and laughing and crying and healing I've done in so short a time (it didn't feel short at all much of the time), I have so much more of those things to do. And some of it will feel much better or much worse than anything I experienced this past year. You see, the Artist is not finished with me yet. Until He is, I stay on the roller coaster ride and do my best to trust that He has the completed me, the perfected me, in His mind and that He will reveal her to me according to His perfect will, in His perfect time.

My Lover

He seeks me in the darkest,
deepest reaches of my heart
and knows the hidden yearnings of my soul.

He fills me with His essence,
with the fullness of His love -
His breath of life alone can make me whole.

He meets me where I’m searching
for a hand that I can hold
and leads me to the place where I am loved.

He soothes me with His presence,
gently whispering in my ear,
“Don’t worry – in My eyes you are enough.”

He saves me from the shadows
and He calms me with His touch,
embracing me just like a faithful friend.

His promise is a covenant
He’s made with me in faith
that He will be my lover ‘til the end.

He loves me with a fierceness,
with a power that conveys
His strength and His desire for my heart.

Protector and my Lover,
He pursues me night and day -
our joining means we’ll never be apart.

An Ode to My Parents

Normally, I wouldn't post a blog entry on my birthday. After all, having just completed the special birthday breakfast my son requested, I am on my way to spend a few hours being pampered at the spa, after which I will come home, spend the afternoon with my children and have a celebratory dinner of sloppy joes, waffle fries, baby carrots (our new favorite) and far too much Carvel ice cream cake. This day is all about me. It's my birthday. Me, me, me, me, me. Which is why my wonderful husband sent me an e-mail this morning and then called me bright and early to be the first to wish me a happy birthday today. Which is also why I am sure I will receive many phone calls from people I love wishing me the best (or enjoying the fact that I am getting older by the second).

The "me" factor aside, I want to make this day about my parents. They brought me into this world. They agreed to love me, raise me, teach me, love me, cherish me, teach me, keep me safe, cry for me, cry over me, struggle for me, love me, stay up late waiting for me, let me go, welcome me home, and so on. I don't think any two people have ever taken their parenting decision more to heart or more seriously than my parents.

I love them.

And I thank them.

Happy Florence's Birthday, Mommy and Daddy. You rock.

The Grass Isn't Always Greener...

... on the other side of the valley. Some people may read the previous entry and think that I'm depressed or wallowing in self pity or being overly dramatic. That's okay. I'm here to tell you that I'm not. (Well, I have been known to indulge in drama every now and again, but I wouldn't go so far as to say I'm doing so now.)

What people sometimes fail to understand is that the grass isn't always greener during life's peaks. Sometimes, a valley is right on time. There are certain things I'm pretty sure you don't accomplish as completely during the peaks in your life. How challenging is it to summon a smile when you're at your best? How aware are you of the smallest blessings when everything is going well? How likely are you to appreciate the sunlight when you've never experienced the dark night? (Okay, so that was dramatic. But it worked. Quite well.)

I believe, as I wrote last time, that the valley is the place we end up when God really wants to talk to us, to work on and in our hearts at a time we're likely to be the most receptive. I firmly believe that He wants us to seek Him there, to realize He is everything we need, what we need to fill us. I don't know about anybody else, but when I feel like I'm getting everything I need from my husband or elsewhere in my life, I tend to let my relationship with God take a back seat. It's not that I don't need Him during those times, or that I forget about Him - I just start to believe the lie that another person (or things) can complete me, fulfill me, be my satisfaction. I forget that He blessed me with those people and things and that they are in my life for a season (however long that season is) while He is eternal, He loves me more than even my parents ever could, and He is what I truly need. Without Him, I would not be here and it is only without His love that I am worthless. Since His love is perfect, unfailing, unconditional and, yes, eternal, I am absolutely, unfailingly, unconditionally and (YES!) ETERNALLY precious. Period.

So, if the valley takes me to the place where I am reminded of how precious I am to my Creator, that He loves me more than any human being ever could and that in Him I have all that I will ever need, there are worse places I could be.

Notes from the Valley

Healing Day

Alive, the sky
with trails of light,
the air with morning dew,
erasing darkness
of the night
and memories of you.
And with each ray
of morning sun,
my broken heart will mend
until each memory,
each one,
becomes nothing again.
But if the rain
precedes the beams
of light that I await,
its healing drops
will blend with tears
that flow from the floodgates -
until there's nothing
left of pain
that's all that's left of you.
The new day heals,
with sun or rain,
as light reveals His truth.

I am in a valley. I have been in a valley for quite some time. And, to date, it has probably been the most painful time in my life. I'm not complaining, though (at least I'm trying not to). I think I have passed the "woe is me" stage (several times) and graduated to the "Lord, have Your way with me" stage (again, it comes and goes). This is the stage in which I realize that God uses the valleys to meet me, comfort me and talk with me when I'm most able to listen - when I feel alone and without hope, when I am quiet and the noise of my life is so far away that it can't get in the way. During this stage, God shows me - yet again - that He is always there, able to reach me even out in the wilderness. He uses the valleys to make me turn to Him so that He can show me that He is everything I need, that He is my ever-present help.

So, I remain in the valley - for now - while God has His way with me. I remain in the valley and treasure each and every realization He brings me (okay, so it's painful and I may not be as enthusiastic as I should be, but ...), along with each and every little bit He opens my eyes and my heart a little more.

I believe I am in this valley for specific reasons, some of which God has revealed to me. I am working on those things so that I can avoid revisiting this particular valley again in the future. I have a feeling, though, that I still need to do some time in this valley, so I am doing my best to be a faithful, attentive pupil and avoid having to learn these particular lessons again because, while I know there are far worse things in life, this place is not somewhere I want to be again.

Sista, Sister

Sistas, we're not sisters
when we put each other down,
when the only thing that feels good
knocks our sista to the ground.

Sistas, we're not sisters
when we judge from seats on high
fellow sistas we look down on
and ridicule as they walk by.

Sistas, we're not sisters
if our only claim to fame
is how we elevate ourselves
as we trash our sista's name.

Sistas, we're not sisters,
not when we believe it's weak
just to rise above the drama,
simply turn the other cheek.

Sistas, we're not sisters
when we read, write and erase,
roll our eyes and suck our teeth,
put our palm in sista's face.

We sistas say we're "sisters,"
yet we have the awful knack
of putting down those we call sisters,
plunging daggers in their backs.

Oh, my sista, not yet sister,
please don't get an attitude.
Why not ask yourself this question:
Is it you I'm talking to?

'Cause if it is, my future sister,
put the drama on the shelf
and realize that how you treat me
shows how much you love yourself.

(I started writing this blog entry last July and think the message is still right on time, so here it is ...)

Yesterday, I hosted a girls-only "soiree in the afternoon" in my home. Not being one to make friends easily (I have built walls, you see), I invited women who have children to come over and spend an afternoon without their children in the company of other women who have children. Some of these women I know fairly well, while others not so much. They all arrived with one thing in common and left, I think, with the realization that they have so much more in common than they knew.

You see, as women, we have so much that unites us. We may look different, think differently, be at different stages in our lives or careers, have different philosophies and faiths, but we really are sisters. We really are in search of a way to get past the things that would separate us and can make us feel so alone. It's just so difficult to focus on the areas of commonality when life makes it so much easier to focus on the differences, on the reasons we really should stay apart from one another - we don't have time to spend together, too many responsibilities and expectations we have to live up to.

There is so much out there that is more important than the ties that bind us together that we lose sight of the fact that we need support to handle everything else. The sad thing is that when we test them, those ties that bind us are strong enough to provide a lot of the support we need. If we would only realize that we are never stronger than when we do stand together and support one another, we would be able to accomplish so much more.

Loneliness is a dangerous thing - sisterhood is a healing thing.

A Deafening Chorus

Rejoice always
and pray without ceasing,
give thanks for all
the bounty He brings.

Do not despair
and give in to grieving -
believe that God
has power over all things.

So, when you hear
of pain and of suffering,
hold fast to faith
and never let go.

The child of God
may not escape trials,
but still she leans
on the Lord of her soul.

Her comfort comes
not from being spared strife,
her solace not
from eluding the blows.

'Cause the One we serve,
with infinite wisdom,
allows pain for reasons
that only He knows.


Okay, so here I am again. Twice in one week is a little much for me, but that's okay. As I've said before, it's my blog and I'll do what I want to.

Once again, this entry is prompted by something that's going on in someone else's life. That's not to say that there is nothing going on in my life or that I can't apply this to myself, but that a conversation I had with a dear friend of mine put this message on my heart. I might be as bold as to say (okay, so I am bold enough and I'm saying it) that this message can apply to any one of us at any given point in life.

So, you're asking yourself, what is this profound message she's going to share? Well, it's pretty simple, really - no matter what is going on in my life, I should always praise God and thank him for not only the calm, but also the storms themselves. To me, giving my heart and soul to God is not about being pain free all the time. It's about recognizing that the pain itself can serve a purpose - it can make me realize how much I really do have, how important the people I love are to me, how precious the people who love me are, how much better off I was the moment before the pain started and how I'd give anything just to get back there.

Would that I could be so fully aware and grateful all the time, not just when something threatens the things that matter most to me. Would that I could stop taking those people and things (and God) for granted and always be fully alive in my praises. Sadly, that's not the case with us humans. Did you ever notice that when you hurt yourself - really hurt yourself - every fiber of your being cries out for relief? That's because we're never more alive than when we're in pain, suffering and at our wit's end. When we think we can take no more and we cry out for help, that's when we're truly alive, which is a good thing because when the relief comes, we should be more aware of it, so thankful that we cry out again, only in thanks this time. The moment (or endless moments) of pain is also the time we tend to appreciate what we had the moment before the pain began. Everything we took for granted, everything we skipped because we said we would do it later - every single one of those things becomes so precious when we're in the dark valley of our pain.

I haven't done this before, but I'm going to ask everyone who reads this to stop and pray for the people in your life who are suffering (whether you know it or not), the people you don't know who are suffering and for everyone else who is reading this. If we all do it, then each of us will have countless people (because this blog is so popular) praying for him or her. Prayer, whether we know it or not, doesn't go unanswered. I like the idea of "inciting" a deafening chorus of prayer that will uplift those of us who know others are praying for us.

Blame it on Eve

She took the apple from the tree
and bit it on a whim,
so now, and ever, we are blamed
for weaknesses in him.


No, I didn't just write this. I wrote it several years ago when, I'm pretty sure, I was fighting with my husband. It just so happens that I pull it out periodically when I feel it applies to my life. I recite it. Over and over again. And it keeps me from nagging, you see, because I am so very busy reciting it. Over and over. Okay, so the reciting and nagging parts aren't true, but I enjoyed saying them.

And, yes, I'm sure that every woman has felt this way at one time or another - whether she admits it or not. Don't read too much into it. Just let it flow over you. Chew on it a little. Digest it. And then let it go. That's what I do.

Talk amongst yourselves.

Mommy, Will You Love Me?

Last night I put my son to bed,
but before he fell asleep,
he said he had some questions,
one or two that wouldn't keep.
And so, I sat back on his bed
and held his precious hand.
I lovingly gave him a squeeze
as his angelic voice began.
"Mommy, will you love me
when I dye my hair bright red,
when I won't stay still at bath time
and refuse to go to bed?
Mommy, will you love me
when my music is too loud,
or when you think you see me
hanging out with a fast crowd?
Mommy, will you love me
when I think I'm fully grown,
and I'm sure I must take action,
make decisions on my own?
Mommy, will you love me
when you’re sure your heart will break
because I insist on doing things
my way, for my pride’s sake?
And mommy, will you love me
when it’s time to let me go,
and you’re watching from afar
to see how seeds you’ve planted grow?
He finished and I smiled at
the worry on his face.
I asked a question of my own,
“Son, do you know your place?
The place you hold within my heart
is yours ‘til Kingdom come,
my love for you won’t be erased,
no matter what you’ve said or done.
So, though you will assert yourself –
you’ll spread your wings and fly –
you’ll always be the son I love,
the true love of my life.”

My son (he's two) is going through what my sister the therapist calls the "primal scream" stage of childhood. As you can imagine, he enjoys screaming. I'm happy, Mommy = SCREAM. I'm sad, Mommy = SCREAM. I'm sleepy, wet, dirty, hungry, full, thirsty, bored, you name it = SCREAM. I can't remember having gone through this with his brother, but I'm sure I did. Whatever part of the brain the ear-splitting screams affect must be the same part that houses my short-term memory. Oh well.

My question to you, the multitudes who read this blog, is, "Would it be wrong of me to sit on the floor with him and scream, too?" Probably, but I think I will, just once. First, though, I'm going to dust off my track shoes and do some endurance training so that when I partake in primal scream therapy and the men with butterfly nets chase me down the street, I'll have a chance to lead them on a merry chase before they shoot me with tranquilizer darts. Sounds like a plan.

See you during visiting hours.

Warrior Sisters

They are our mothers, our faithful friends,
the loving daughters we must defend.
Though we’re afraid and can’t pretend,
we’re warrior sisters until the end.

The fight we’re waging can be won.
With much more work, it can be done.
This battle touches all of us
as we fight to save the ones we love.

Fight on, fight on
with strength and love.
With warrior sisters, we’ll rise above.
The thought of failure, we can’t allow,
so we must fight and win somehow.

If it will strike, you never know,
but if the enemy invades your home
and you need help, a loving friend,
just take your warrior sister’s hand.

Fight on, fight on
with strength and love.
We warrior sisters will rise above.
The thought of failure, we can’t allow,
so we must fight and win somehow.

We can’t forget the battle now,
so we will fight and win somehow.


Yes, today is the last day of Breast Cancer Awareness Month. No, I didn't just write these lyrics today. I was trying to wait until November, to drive home the point that awareness does not end at 12:01 a.m. on November 1. Why didn't I wait after all? Well, tomorrow is not a promise, so I'm posting this today. It's that simple.

What deep words of wisdom do I have today? I think the lyrics say it all. Just prop each other up and never forget that someone needs encouragement. You may never know why they needed it at a particular moment, but what you say or do may be the fuel they need to keep waging whatever battle they face.

And to my dear friend, a true Warrior Sister: I wrote Fight On with you on my mind and in my heart. I love you and pray for you every day, even when daily life makes it difficult to call.