When Surrender leads to Victory!

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 Matthew 26:39 “Going a little farther, he fell with his face to the ground and prayed, “My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me. Yet not as I will, but as you will.”

More times than I can count, I have asked God to “take this cup from me.” Change my path, decrease my burden, ease my suffering. No rest for the weary as the saying goes.

I find solace in the fact that, even Jesus, bowed before His father and begged him, not once, or even twice, but three times, to change the plan, redirect the path he was to tread. (Matt 26:44 “So he left them and went away once more and prayed the third time, saying the same thing.”)

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Lessons from my 15 Year Old Daughter!

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Frayed edges, stained center (outdated by American standards,) the throw rug beneath displayed the wear of many feet that had paced before me. Arms crossed and tucked in close, not for the chill in the enclosed concrete room, but an effort to contain the emotions with in me. My third child, escorted by a dark haired woman in a floral smock, was delivered.

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A Painful Kind of Love.

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Depleted of vices to hide behind, raw and real are all that remain.  Perhaps it is where He wants me.  My true authentic self, helpless before God. I’m okay with that.  For a long period of seasons, I was anything but. Yet now, even a midst the ruins of my soul, the chaos of my existence, there is peace and it is Him others see, not myself. Grateful for that as life seems to be in shambles.

Twenty-five days ago, a moment of anguish that towers above all others crushed my soul.  The drive over the pass was non-eventful, even quite pleasant.  Which made the endeavor that much more unbearable.

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Subtle Lies that Haunt Us!

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The tone of the tall grass merges with the dirty yellow of his mane. No movement, no sound. None are aware of his presence. He observes.  A moment of weakness rises as one prey lets his guard down. Predator edges closer. No cracking of dry grass beneath his feet warns imminent danger lurks. The prey, oblivious to his surroundings, is hit as predator leaps to attack.  He never saw it coming.

I relate to the prey, often unaware that a beast hides in the shadows. He detects, more than I, my vulnerability and my doubt. He waits for it, then feeds on it.

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When they can’t Love you Back!

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“What do you think my love language is, Mom?” he asked.

“Well, there is a test you can take on line,” I said.

“Yeah, David was telling me I should take it. Will you help, in case I don’t understand the questions?”

“Of course!”

We were late for church but when my son asks for emotional help or growth, I refuse to brush aside the rare occurrence.

A quick search and the window popped up. We read…
“For each set of statements, select the one you prefer the most,”

No awareness on his part but I was all but ignorant of the sadness each question built on, not his, but my own.
An ache clinched my heart as truth was revealed; love is a foreign concept for him.

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Blessed! “I do not think it means what you think it means!”

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Sitting among a group of peers, in true “round-table” fashion, each had a story of hollow wombs and vacant arms coupled with the slightly unconventional way of filling the desire, deep-seated need, for children.  Some early in their journey, others veterans of the system, we each divulged details of the miraculous way God had built our families.  Conversation was deep, enjoyable and even beneficial until one comment stopped my heart, to which I mentally had to force myself to breathe.  Three words were uttered that crushed my spirit, heart and soul and provoked me to evaluate my faith.
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Joy Comes in the Mourning!

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Deeply grieved today, I am forced to choose. Stay fixated on the circumstances that plague our family and the sorrow of my journey or find a different angle.

No story this time, that would be fixating, but I trust you have your own. Loss, wounds, frustrations; impossible situations as parents, coworkers, friends, or children weigh us all. Insert your heavy-hearted situation here.

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