the groove-less edge

somewhere to begin. that is the great ponder of this night, this day, these weeks. and it seems that it is beginning over and over again that must be done. just when i think we have caught the groove, that we are on our way down the right track, that is the moment that we are derailed, set into a different gear.

it is in these derailed moments that i am shaken of control, loosened of my pulled-togetherness. and it is raw..and real. sometimes it is static hectic, sometimes it is husband out of town whilst the furnace and electric belly-up, and sometimes it is a boy come down sick, fever soaring high. all of these derail my plans, my groove. and i am forced to live on the edge.

i am not particularly fond of the edge. while not necessarily afraid of heights, i am not one to jump without calculating, weighing the risks. and while this all sounds responsible and possibly right, i wonder if it prevents some movement of the Spirit. would He have me jump, and soar with Him to something even better?

perhaps today's better was tending to a sick child, brothers even helping where they could. working together to help him feel better, playing quietly with him, allowing him to rest, bringing him a drink with a blue straw because blue is his favorite, just saying "i love you and i am praying you feel better". i got oodles of extra cuddles and spent more time still, talking to my Savior.

today's better was love, peace, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self control, and joy... not because i planned it. but because the Holy Spirit said soar..ride on my wings.

... appreciating the edge a little more each time i am knocked out of my groove...

mission, not impossible

it hit me while i was praying with my boys.

we were praying for Daddy, that his trip to Nicaragua would be "successful", that God would use him and the other men with him mightily, for God's Name's sake. we pray this knowing He can and will do it. we know there is nothing that is impossible for God, and we wait expectantly, of good reports from the trip.

 there is a certain allure to praying for those that are outside of this country.. we call it missions. and, while it is important to pray for them, and the work they are doing is good..

why don't we pray for the same things for those here...and for ourselves?

i find myself wondering.. what if each day found us praying that God would use us mightily
in our own homes?
in our work places?
in our neighborhoods?

what if we had the attitude of missionaries every single day?

please do not misunderstand me, i know firsthand that experiencing another culture and seeing what God is doing there is wonderful, even important. my world view and knowledge of Who God is forever changed. i even found myself a little envious of my husband this time around..him going, without me. i sincerely miss the people we know there.

but i desire the same unyielding love for my own neighbors.. the one who refuses to speak to us, the one who continually places beer bottles in our yard..
if i can attempt to communicate and exemplify Christ in a different language, why is it so difficult to confront a sister in Christ...sharing, in love, a concern weighing on my heart?
is it possible that when we visit another place, we lose some inhibition, relenting to the fact that we do not have control in the first place? and if that's true, perhaps the problem is that we've only fooled ourselves into thinking we're in control here, in our own comfortable surroundings..

so, while i continue to pray for my husband and the trip he is on,
i will now echo the same prayers for myself.

i desire to be used mightily..right here, right now.
today is the mission God has me on. and nothing is impossible for Him.

celebrating life

without lying, honesty says these past days have been difficult. focus seems lacking and questions certainly loom. people close to us are hurting so. when tragedy hits so close to home, it effects everyone in some way. the important thing is to allow the effects to push you closer to Christ, drawing towards Him, not away. He is faithful. it also reminds you how important it is to love those around you.. with genuine love, celebrating life, laughing together as much as humanly possible.

a couple of weeks ago, we did just that..celebrate life, that is. and as promised, i am sharing. life is worth both celebrating and sharing!

a grand occasion it was, as three so special people to me celebrated their being born days. my two youngers, born two years and two days apart, all ten and eight years of them. in disbelief, i hugged and kissed them on their days.. wondering how my baby boys could possibly be these little men, so big in my arms. my Blue Eyes was sure to remind me that he'd found double digits, that he'd never be just one number old again. and why that mere fact sent me over the edge, i'm not certain. but my throat tightened quickly and tears pooled, threatening their overflow. ten whole years and the leap to double digits..it's all happened so fast.

and my Dimples, all eight years of him. forever my baby boy, he reminded me that "while he'll always be my baby, that he's going to be bigger than me". i suppose the watching of his oldest brother bypass both Daddy and Mommy has brought this assumption to his mind. but ever since, i can't help but think of his words when he sits on my lap. or on the occasions he still reaches his arms up to me and leaps. i find myself sitting a little longer, holding on a little tighter, dancing with him in my arms while i still can.

then there's that third oh-so-special birthday celebration.. my dear Mom.. who, if i may say, looks might good, having found sixty years. though she'll probably disagree, she's as much energy as she was when thirty-some, at least in my memory. my childhood memories don't seem so far off as they really are. laughing together, her fixing my hair, playing at the park, or times when child-me would yell for her at night, afraid to even get out of bed..and she'd come...without fail. i know now, being a mommy myself, that those were some long, tiring nights. but i don't recall ever a harsh word spoken. she just loved me, exactly as i was. now we share a friendship like no other, encouraging each other and helping the other along in our own journey towards Christ-likeness. she shines bright with the love of our Lord, and those around her cannot help but notice that she gives her all, loves fully, unconditionally, and sacrificially. she's a model of strength. Godly character and wisdom are her pillar. i rise up and call her blessed.

so a celebration of life it was. and i'm so grateful to have had the opportunity to celebrate each one. praying for many more years of celebrating together.

swirling

it is not that i know what i must write, it is simply that i must....


so many thoughts and emotions swirling. it is difficult to make sense of any.
tragedy does this. creates this fog of confusion. and it seems only fitting that snow would flit in a flurry these past days. they picture these emotions and thoughts so well.

tip of nose to window, i watch them as they fall. some race their way to the ground, but others take a most interesting route. they do not drop. but instead, they dance. waltz-like, they flutter round-a-bout. i can't help but wonder if maybe those dancing snowflakes have the most interesting patterns, intricate zig-zags, causing them to catch the slightest change of wind.

does God chisel us like this.. through His word, experiences and life in general..? could i be formed so intricately that i would catch the slightest movement of His Spirit? and could i dance through the swirls of this life? He makes it possible, and reminds me that i can... but only with His strength.

"and I will turn their mourning into joy, and will comfort them, and give them joy for their sorrow... and My people shall be satisfied with My goodness, declare the Lord." Jeremiah 31:13b-14b

so, in the midst of this swirling, i will remember to dance. and i will softly land.. satisfied in God's goodness.