Lost in the Maze

Sometimes life can feel a little bit like a huge labyrinth, with more twists and turns and dead ends and no easy way out or obvious sign postings to elucidate you.


This morning, as most mornings I sat in the quiet, savouring the aroma and flavour of my coffee and communing with God (He must be a coffee drinker-he joins me most mornings!)
I was just letting my mind wander a little, while I thought about the things & people I was so thankful for, and those I wanted to lift in prayer, making mental lists: to dos, to pray fors, we all have them... and I found myself thinking about the ancient Greek myth of the Minotaur and the labyrinth. I'm not sure just how I got there, and I shook my head, momentarily perplexed, but you'd be surprised the rabbit trails this mind of mine can wander down!
Anyway....I discovered there was a lesson there. I did Google the myth, to make sure I remembered the story correctly, and I had. The gist of the story, at least the pertinent bits, for those of you who are not so familiar with the myth, is this: Because of the loss of a battle, or the murder of their king, the Cretans demanded tribute from the Athenians. The tribute was to be 14 attractive youths, 7 boys & 7 girls, who were left the midst of a labyrinth to be devoured by the Minotaur (a half man-half bull creature). After several of these sacrifices a young man named Theseus volunteered to go with the intent of destroying the beast & freeing his people from further sacrifice. The Cretan princess, Ariadne fell in love with Theseus and gave him a ball of thread to help him navigate the maze once he had succeeded in killing the Minotaur.
Once I reconsidered the tale, and my current state of mind it began to make sense. Some days I feel as though I am in the midst of a complicated maze and I don't know how to find my way out. I find myself doubling back, retracing my steps, winding up in dead ends and blind alleys, not only trying to reach my goal, find a way out, but to avoid the lurking beast. But like Theseus, I have the secret to the maze. He had a skein of wool to unwind as he went to mark his path back out. I have the Word to light my path and the knowledge that if I keep my eyes fixed on Jesus He will lead me through the labyrinth.

Wearing my Wedding Dress to the Grocery Store

But we are all like an unclean thing,
And all our righteousnesses are like filthy rags;
We all fade as a leaf,
And our iniquities, like the wind,
Have taken us away. (Isaiah 64:6)

Its been am interesting weekend to say the least, but that's fine by me. Dipped my toes in the dating pool again, (I had coffee with someone) but there was no fireworks, not even a spark, although he seemed to be a very nice & sincere man. I wasn't sure what might come next, but this morning I learned it was a moot point anyway. He emailed to tell me he just didn't see kids as a part of his life. Honestly, I think that was a convenient excuse, easier than admitting there was no spark between us, since we got along well, and from the start of our conversations I had made it abundantly clear I had a small child still at home. Oh well, his loss, someone else's gain.
But that was not the direction of this post. Saturday morning I had a dream. It had multiple parts, that, in the light of day seem to have little connection to each other-and in fact they may not be connected at all. I don't dream, or remember my dreams anyway, often, so when I do I take notice, because I believe it is Holy Spirit's way of showing me things I may not be able to see in the busy and distracted day.
In the first part of this dream I was out with another realtor, (not the one I actually work for) to prepare for listing a farm house. I doubt those details matter much, I'm guessing it's just the daily routine, What was unusual was that I was wearing a wedding dress-no veil, but a lovely and simple white gown, definitely a wedding dress though. We did what needed doing in the house, I believe I chatted with the owner a bit, and we made a few stops along the way, once at a drive-in for lunch (not a drive thru, but an actual drive-in with picnic tables and a walk-up counter. It was there, after purchasing my meal, that I commented it was odd no one had noticed, or said anything about my attire. The dress was still pristine, and I felt like I was wearing my favourite jeans, not like I was dressed in something so special.
I woke up perplexed by this. I have no interest in weddings, or marriage right now (and no prospects either!) But as I continued through my morning I recalled what white clothing and wedding attire symbolize - robes of righteousness and being the Bride of Christ. As I thought about it more I wondered if that wasn't the point after all. Should we not be wearing our "robes of righteousness" every day, with utter ease? Ought this not be so normal people around us accept it without comment? In the dream I was working, eating, doing all the things I normally do, having the kinds of conversations I normally have, but remaining unsullied and garbed in clothing more suited to the most special occasions.
The rest of the dream I may tackle later-like all dreams it was long & complex. But suffice it to say, while in the latter parts of this vision I was dressed in regular clothing, as I look back over it and consider the various parts of the dream, I felt confident, beautiful, secure and powerful, as I did wearing that wedding gown. I don't know if men feel this way when they're dressed in special occasion clothes, but there is something about putting on a spectacularly beautiful dress and knowing you look good. It changes how you carry yourself and present yourself.
Over the past couple of days, as I have considered recent events in my life, and as I have mulled over this dream I have come to realize I no longer want to live according to someones else's arbitrary rules for my life. I am slowly emerging from the shadows where I have been hiding and taking hold of who I am. I used to make a habit of metaphorically putting on the "full armour of God"-today I am comfortable in battle gear, I don't need to (often) don it consciously. I think I am going to make a habit now of gaining new comfort in garments suited to a princess bride. (Revelation 21:9, John 1:12)

Giving what I can

I had coffee with a friend today. I delightful way to spend a rainy Saturday afternoon. We sat in Starbucks enjoying the crash of thunder and the brief displays of lightning. On of the myriad topics of conversation (I love how good conversations with good friends weave intricately from topic to topic-you just never know what you'll learn or where you'll end up, but it's always an amazing tapestry) was tithing. We didn't stay on the subject long, coming to agree that it was more about the heart than the math. I had to admit that, while I believe wholeheartedly in the practice of tithing, and despite making promises to myself to start to give again, I have been terribly negligent in the matter. Tomorrow is Sunday again. I am writing my cheque now, so there is no excuse tomorrow. (I always seem to forget come Sunday morning-and being passive-aggressive with God, and with yourself is always a bad idea) I do give what I can, if not financially-but the time has come to stand behind my convictions and to give back to God what He has given me. It's all His anyway. Looking back, I can see I have never gone without. Unasked, money and groceries, among other things, have been provided more often than I can count...I have been richly blessed, and I can only say thank you.

The Widow's Gift

In vain I try to ignore
my tattered robes
seem poorer still
against rich garments.
Heads held high
look to see who's watching-
heavy purses offered
in studied carelessness.
My head remains bent
I meet no one's eyes.
Two small coins

warm from my grasp

leave their impression on my palm.

Someone else tries to go

unnoticed but
I noticed him.

I hear him say
I have given more than

the others.

And when I look up
I see dusty carpenter's robe's
in the shadow of a crossbeam.

Small Surprises

I've spoken before, i know about how the smallest things can turn our day around, make an ordinary, ho-hum kind of day seem really kind of special. It's raining again today, I've lost track, but I think we're past a week of pretty much non-stop grey skies and wet. Don't get me wrong, I like rain well enough, but I'm a prairie girl, born and bred. Give me a (single ) rainy day I'm good, I love the awesome sight & sound of a thunderstorm, am delighted by a sudden sun shower in summer, but these endless, dreary coastal days you can keep. So, I crawled out of bed this morning, cold, regretting storing away my electric blanket already, craving a hot cup of coffee (bad day to finally decide to do that fast for blood work, but time to stop stalling) and wondered when I might be able to enjoy a sunrise again, when my phone rang with a "good morning" text from a new friend. In that moment the grey was not so oppressive and I smiled as I replied.
Those few "morning coffee" texts alone would have made my day, but we exchanged a few more during coffee time at work....and I still had a secret surprise planned of my own.
The day continued on, the usual flurry of phone calls and paperwork. I had just looked at the clock to see if it was close enough to lunch time to head for the gym when another friend turned up at the office to invite me to join her for lunch. It was an offer I couldn't refuse! Good food, good company and a little girl talk? Oh yes. We talked about the trials and triumphs in our lives since we last got together, enjoyed a lovely meal and offered each other the best of having good friends; support, encouragement, and a safe place to vent a little. I walked back to the office with a new bounce in my step.
I have to say though, that little surprises are even more fun to deliver. I had decided, since I knew I'd be in the neighbourhood later, to drop off a small package of cookies with a note for a friend to discover when he got home from work....I admit, at first I wondered if he'd even remember the conversation about saving him a couple when I made them, or if the gesture would seem silly, or worse, too forward, but in the end I decided it always makes me feel good to come home and find a little surprise, so why shouldn't I share that feeling with someone else. And I don't know how he felt about it...but I know it did me good.

Several years ago there was a movement to doing random acts of kindness. Even a smile and a kind word can brighten someone's day-and help you see more of the blessings in your own life. It's quite amazing, once you start looking for them how many small delights there are in a day, and they accumulate and multiply exponentially, it seems.
What unexpected delights have you experienced lately? What unexpected delights have you caused?

Caught between what was & what might have been

All night we fished
tried every lure, every bait
unrewarded
no tug on our lines,
no weight in our nets.

Sun rises
slowly
in the east

Weary eyes turn to shore.
A small fire lights dark sand.

On a rock he sits waiting.
Oars and tide draw us closer
I imagine the warmth of fire on wind whipped cheeks
can smell fresh fish.

And he calls;
"Come and dine, my friends."

I wrote that a lifetime ago, in the spring of 1992. I don't even recall my thought process at the time, but I did write several pieces with Bible stories as a backdrop. As I am beginning to look to my future again, feeling excited anticipation for what may be coming next (after years of waiting always for the other shoe to drop) I find myself also looking back, examining what came before, what brought me to this place.
I have talked before about looking back to appreciate how far we have come in our journeys. When I came across this poem again I got to thinking about those fishermen. Tired, disillusioned, and empty handed they had returned to their familiar old habits. All of them had three years earlier walked away from their nets and accepted the challenge of a new life, but when the bottom fell out they went back to where they started. I know I've done that. Taken chances, stepped out of my comfort zone in the hope of better things and when it didn't work out the way I had planned I turn tail and go back to my old ways, to what is most familiar, only to find that doesn't work anymore either.
It is in that moment, adrift between what was and what might have been, but isn't, I need to fix my eyes on the shore and rest a while in the warmth of friendship. There was no rebuke in Jesus' mouth for these confused and disillusioned fishermen. Just a place to rest, and be nourished.
Where do you find yourself today? Striving to make old patterns work again? Drifting to shore in disappointment? Look to the shore-there is a campfire burning, calling you to rest, refresh and start over.

It's the End of the World as We Know It...or it was supposed to be

So. The world was apparently supposed to end on Saturday. I never heard this from any reliable news outlet (but given that I rarely read the local paper, which is embarrassingly out of touch, or listen the tv news this is hardly surprising) but I did pick up the groundswell of murmuring about it. I can not say there is anything particularly wrong with getting excited about the rapture, the end of the world as we know it, but I think, perhaps, our focus may have been a little skewed.
Yes, we, as believers, wait, have waited through the ages, for the glorious second coming of Christ, but we are admonished to "occupy" until the day comes. Several years ago there was a saying in church circles; "so heavenly minded he's no earthly good". I believe it is our responsibility to be ready for that day, and to warn and prepare others for it, but I do not think it should be our primary focus.
If Jesus is our example, and He certainly knew what was coming, then we ought to be more focused on the good we can do among the lost and hurting around us. We should be comforting the lonely, feeding the hungry, healing the sick, reaching out to the broken.
Regardless, there were a lot of people left on Saturday with, as my son put it in his Face Book status, "plans derailed". And, I might surmise, spending the remainder of the weekend back-pedaling or offering "recalculated"information to those they tried to convince to prepare for the end of days.
In the end I suppose what it boils down to is which side you will find yourself on when the trumpet finally does sound. It should be about knowing absolutely that Jesus is Lord & Saviour, about being right with God, about living a life that makes those around you want what you have. Being at peace in knowing you have lived well and knowing where you stand with God, in the courts of the forgiven.
Do you know where you will be when that trumpet calls us to battle? I do.

Second Chances

Second Chances...

I stood so long staring at the closed door

Eyes burning, heart thrumming, fingers aching

Torn between acceptance and regret

The click of the latch echoed so loudly I almost missed it...

The sounds of Spring

Drifting on the breeze through opened windows.

I am infinitely glad we serve a God of second chances. Second, third, fourth...we never run out of chances to turn around, repent, call for a "do-over", a mulligan. I don't know about you but I can be willful, stubborn, inappropriately self-assured. That means that sometimes (more often than I'd like to admit) I make poor decisions. I forget to check my map and wind up down the wrong road, having to back track, hoping all the while to find short cur back to my intended destination. But there never is a short cut. At least with every new beginning I know my Father has wiped the slate clean, "try it again." He whispers gently. And thankfully, hopefully I have learned a little something on my detour and will not go that way again, or will not miss-step and can keep my footing.

Given how grateful I am to be given so many second chances, and what a relief it is to know God never washes His hands of me and my mess ups, I try to be as accommodating of the people in my life. I am not so generous though. I am more forgiving of some than of others. I told someone years ago, in reference to my choice to leave my husband, that we all have a line that can not be crossed. We may not know where that line is until it is crossed (in fact, I have often been surprised at where my "line" moves to ) but when it is crossed there is likely no turning back. There comes a time to close the door, sometimes to go so far a to lose the key, and move on.

There are mornings I wake up utterly weary starting yet again. By day's end I feel battered and frustrated, pleading for skywriting, direction so clear I could not possibly miss it. I want, I think, every step marked for me. But when the cloud of frustration clears I realize I would rebel against that too...that the way is marked, but I need to find it on my own, the price of being a leader, not a follower. I have been blessed with good friends who have walked ahead of me, others coming along behind, all of them cheering me on my way, helping me back to my feet when I stumble. Thank you, you know who you are.

I am God opens windows when He closes doors. That His patience is infinite and He will not stop allowing me to begin again, and again and again. I may tire of rebuilding, of repeating my trip around the "mulberry bush" but He never tires of picking me up, dusting me off, and setting my sights back in the right direction.

Spreading my Wings

I was thinking this morning about a line in an old chorus "Put on the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness..." I'm not quite sure what brought it to mind. I had been going over the events of this past weekend, and I got to thinking about how I used to wear my hurt and anger like a coat of armour, and how vulnerable I felt without its protection. I wore it for years, keeping everyone at arm's length.
When I wasn't clad in my spiked armour I wrapped myself in a cloak of invisibility. It was equally comfortable-I felt no one saw me, I was the girl who wasn't there. In fact, in time, this particular garment became so familiar I forgot I wore it. I wonder now just how often I bemoaned my invisible state to my friends. I felt ignored, unseen, insignificant. I didn't even realize I had begun to consistently present myself in metaphoric clothing designed to keep everyone at bay.

Finally I have found again, hiding in the back of my closet a forgotten garment...
The Spirit of the Sovereign LORD is on me, because the LORD has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor. He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners, ² to proclaim the year of the LORD’s favor and the day of vengeance of our God, to comfort all who mourn, ³ and provide for those who grieve in Zion— to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair. (Isaiah 61)

How light and lovely this garment is... like finally slipping into a sun dress and sandals after a long winter of sweaters and heavy boots.
A lifetime ago we were singing the chorus I referred to in a Sunday morning service when I glanced up & saw a friend across the room scowling about something. I pulled my scarf out of my coat, walked over, wrapped it around his neck, embraced him and told him I would lend him my "garment of praise" until he could find his again. It was a simple, silly gesture, but it turned the tide for him that day. Several years later I gave another friend a pink pashmina as a birthday gift, with a note to wrap herself in it when she needed a physical reminder of how much she was loved. Not long after that I had a dream about the two of us ministering together at a women's conference and presenting every woman in attendance with a similar scarf embroidered with an appropriate verse, a tangible reminder of our garment of praise or our robe of righteousness. It becomes a choice to physically put something on in this manner, and takes the idea out of the world of metaphor.

It sounds a little trite here, but I considered all of these memories, thoughts and ideas as I stood in worship this morning. I no longer feel invisible, my protective and adversarial armour is stowed away. I feel almost like a butterfly finally emerging from my chrysalis, more like myself than I have in ages. I am ready to take on whatever comes next on this road I am travelling.

What have you clothed yourself in today?

One More Step Forward

Yesterday was a milestone day. My oldest son graduated from high school. It's a little hard to accept, that my sweet baby boy is a man grown, ready to take the world by storm. I can not begin to express how proud I am of him and of the man he has become. It was a step forward, into the future and away from the past for both of us.

Before the commencement exercises though there was a dinner for the graduands and their families. I have to say that meal was a testament to grace and forgiveness. My son's dad and I divorced some 15 years ago, and he has been married to the woman he replaced me with for most of that time. For several years our relationship was, combative, at best. I tend to deal with hurt and with uncomfortable situations with sarcasm, and often with sniping. And I knew this dinner was very likely to be uncomfortable. Preparing for it however I had no trepidation, no nerves. (Of course, it may have helped that at the last minute Christopher called & told me he had given me the wrong time & dinner was half an hour earlier - I had no time to fret!). I was feeling good about myself. I admit it didn't hurt to sit across from my ex husband and see him looking every one of his years...while I still feel (even if I don't quite look) young-younger now, if fact, than I did then. We talked about nothing in particular, like old friends catching up. My only discomfort was in not knowing anyone else, so until we sat for dinner I was pretty much on my own, which I don't like in any venue. I felt some regret in not knowing my son's friends, except through his stories and Face Book page, but I feel good about the strength of our relationship.

But Forgiveness. That's where I was going... I have known, since our separation, that this day would come. That there would be graduations, weddings, baptisms-all manner of significant events in these boys' lives we would need to get through together. And I knew we had a choice in how we faced it. I remember struggling, years ago, with the understanding that I needed to forgive this man for hurting me so, but I didn't know how. I asked my pastor at the time, and, I admit, his advice perplexed and dismayed me. "Just leave it on the back burner", he said. I wanted a formula, a prayer, STEPS to take. I wanted the pain to stop & I wanted to move forward, unfettered from him finally. But, in a way, I did take his advice. With no answer, nothing to DO to make this happen, I went on putting one foot in front of the other, living my life as best I could. The day came when I realized I had forgiven him, but it was slow & subtle, not a single momentous event. Have I forgotten what he did? No. Have I forgotten how much it hurt, how awful it was? Not at all. But talking about it now is almost like talking about someone else. Forgiving was something I desired, but in my wounded state I could not create. I had to give God time to heal my broken heart, and mended I was strong enough to chose the path to freedom.
There are still people I am working toward forgiving-by no means do I have this all figured out. But I have seen forgiveness and mercy walked out in my life, and so I keep on, setting aside former wrongs, asking for healing in my heart, choosing love over bitterness.

Forgiving myself

If you've been following this at all you have probably guessed it's been a rough week (and its only Wednesday!). I woke up this morning still in a bit of a funk, although that may be partly attributed to a highway crew doing something involving a bobcat, noisy truck and flashing lights behind my house at 4:00 this morning. Nonetheless I was still feeling grumpy and sorrowful and mad at myself for being so upset about the end of something that never even really started.
It wasn't until I was in the shower (one of those places I seem to have lots of insights, for some reason) that I realized what, at least in part, the problem was. I needed to forgive myself. Yup, Myself. It's likely I still have some forgiving to do with regard to the other party in this foolish debacle too, but right now it's me I am kicking the hardest.
It's funny how we preach enthusiastically the need to forgive those who have wronged us but we so often neglect to forgive ourselves for whatever perceived wrongs we continue to batter ourselves over. If my friend were beating herself up for letting herself believe in the hope & possibility of loving and being in love, for daring to dream I would tell her she had done nothing wrong. She had been brave enough to dream, to put her heart on the line with the chance she might get hurt again. I would tell her she was wonderful, and beautiful and so worth being loved, that her hopes and dreams were good and should be pursued. But it is not my friend who is taking the lash of shame and self-pity to herself, it is me.
And I am really good at beating myself up. Really good, so good, in fact, I barely realize I am at it again. And I wish I weren't.
Forgiveness is a tough thing at the best of times. Maybe you've never struggled with forgiving someone who has really hurt or wronged you, maybe you never forgave them at all but just closed that part of your heart and walked away. I think sometimes we equate forgiving with forgetting, or believe somehow that forgiving someone gives them a "pass". Forgiving, though doesn't mean what was done was right or doesn't matter. It is a strange paradox of sorts, forgiving someone set you free. The amazing thing is it gets easier.
I'm hoping to discover this is true of forgiving myself too.

So I stood there, in the shower, hot water sluicing down my back and I began to speak words of forgiveness. I let the water wash away a little more of the pain and the shame and I felt better when I looked in the mirror a little while later. And I know I will revisit these feelings again, and again. It may not be a broken relationship (or an imagined one) next time...it is just a likely to be some other personally perceived failure, but I am finally learning to recognize what I am doing and take a stand against it quickly.
I'm hoping tomorrow will start with anticipation, or at least a dream I'd like to return to.

Who do you need to forgive today? Are you on the list? And I promise, tomorrow I'll move on to new subject matter.

And one more thing...Arguing with a closed door

When I finished writing and posting yesterday's blog I had that nagging feeling it was not quite done, but I had, in that moment run out of words. There seemed nothing left to say, and I questioned my own sanity in laying my foolishness out for all to see, because besides hurt and angry, foolish is how I was really feeling. I wondered what it was about me that seems to attract damaged or emotionally unavailable men. I made myself toss those thoughts aside to avoid more flagellation. It was done....although I still have to keep pushing away the fantasy of him coming back to me, realizing what he had lost finally. (Mind you it's a fantasy I harbour about every man I've been rejected by or have rejected).
But, back to that nagging feeling- I knew there was more to be said, I just didn't know what. And then it came to me. In the midst of my prayers, pouring out my woe and self-pity my heart was reminded of a dream I had months ago. Finally it made more sense. Dreams are funny like that.
When I had this dream I had been emailing a man who was living in Edinburgh but was supposed to be moving to Calgary in the near future. It was a lovely little fantasy. He seemed kind and charming, said all the right things... and then he too began to drift away. The excuses were different, but were excuses nonetheless. But that's all irrelevant now.
In the dream I decided I had had enough of waiting for this man to finally come, so I flew to Edinburgh to find him. Mid-flight I realized I had no idea where he was staying, I didn't even know the name of the company he worked for-but I figured I'd land and figure it out from there. (Ah, the logic of the dream world) Arriving in Edinburgh I began to inquire at various hotels, since he had said he had given up his apartment in anticipation of his move, and airfields. Finally, exhausted I walked into one more office, and the receptionist seemed to recognize my photo. She asked me to sit & went to ask someone else what they knew. I fell asleep there, waiting, but I could hear their voices-some angry, some demanding, there was talk of money, withheld funds, of compensation for oversights and inconvenience. And then I had that distinct feeling someone was looking at me. I roused myself from my sleep and found myself blinking with amazement-it was him, the man I had been seeking, standing right in front of me!
I don't remember much more from that dream, but it did fill me with hope. That particular relationship died as quickly as it began, and I moved on with my life.
And then this happened. I think the dream was supposed to show me that seeking out the promises I have been given on my own is futile, something akin to finding the proverbial needle in a haystack, but that if I will just wait, and rest, He will bring the fulfillment of those promises to me.
So here I am, heart on the mend again, telling myself I can just rest in His presence and trust in His faithfulness to keep His promises to me. I know I can not bring any of them about in my own strength, and I know that, in time I will grow frustrated in waiting and will try to make things fit into my schedule.
And if I needed more proof that God knows my wayward thoughts, Psalm 73 was one of my devotional readings this morning. How often have I felt like this, like everyone else was invited to the party & I was left outside, nose pressed up against the glass?

¹ Surely God is good to Israel,
to those who are pure in heart.

² But as for me, my feet had almost slipped;
I had nearly lost my foothold.
³ For I envied the arrogant
when I saw the prosperity of the wicked.

⁴ They have no struggles;
their bodies are healthy and strong.
⁵ They are free from common human burdens;
they are not plagued by human ills.
⁶ Therefore pride is their necklace;
they clothe themselves with violence.
⁷ From their callous hearts comes iniquity;
their evil imaginations have no limits.
⁸ They scoff, and speak with malice;
with arrogance they threaten oppression.
⁹ Their mouths lay claim to heaven,
and their tongues take possession of the earth.
¹⁰ Therefore their people turn to them
and drink up waters in abundance.
¹¹ They say, “How would God know?
Does the Most High know anything?”

¹² This is what the wicked are like—
always free of care, they go on amassing wealth.

¹³ Surely in vain I have kept my heart pure
and have washed my hands in innocence.
¹⁴ All day long I have been afflicted,
and every morning brings new punishments.

¹⁵ If I had spoken out like that,
I would have betrayed your children.
¹⁶ When I tried to understand all this,
it troubled me deeply
¹⁷ till I entered the sanctuary of God;
then I understood their final destiny.

¹⁸ Surely you place them on slippery ground;
you cast them down to ruin.
¹⁹ How suddenly are they destroyed,
completely swept away by terrors!
²⁰ They are like a dream when one awakes;
when you arise, Lord,
you will despise them as fantasies.

²¹ When my heart was grieved
and my spirit embittered,
²² I was senseless and ignorant;
I was a brute beast before you.

²³ Yet I am always with you;
you hold me by my right hand.
²⁴ You guide me with your counsel,
and afterward you will take me into glory.
²⁵ Whom have I in heaven but you?
And earth has nothing I desire besides you.
²⁶ My flesh and my heart may fail,
but God is the strength of my heart
and my portion forever.

²⁷ Those who are far from you will perish;
you destroy all who are unfaithful to you.
²⁸ But as for me, it is good to be near God.
I have made the Sovereign LORD my refuge;
I will tell of all your deeds.

And like David, at the end of it all I come to recognize what else do I have? My Father knows the secret, and the not so secret desires of my heart. He knows what I need, and better than I do He knows when I am best prepared to take hold of what He has planned for me.

Now, if I can just keep myself from staring too long at that closed door...

When God closes a door get your fingers out of the way

I learned a painful lesson yesterday. One you might think I should have learned a long time ago. but, if I haven't said it before, let me say it now-I am rather willful & stubborn, which means I have to learn most lessons the hard way...
I'm sure you have heard the old saw-"be careful what you wish for"? Yesterday I learned its corollary; "when you ask God to close a door make sure your fingers aren't still trying to keep it open." Ouch.
If you follow this blog at all you likely know I am a single woman, and while I mostly enjoy my single status (I never have to share the remote or closet space, or explain why I need another pair of shoes) I do get lonely and long for someone to share my life with.
I believe God has a perfect mate out there, somewhere, just for me, but I get impatient & tired of waiting occasionally. That said, I confess I filled out a profile on a dating website, mostly just out of curiosity. Not long ago I began corresponding and chatting on line with someone I met through this site. He seemed to be a lovely, gentle and sincere man, but very cautious about letting me into his life. I accepted his shyness, and having been hurt myself understood his fear of getting hurt again. Going slowly, building a friendship was fine with me. I wanted a companion more than anything else, and he made me laugh.
We talked often, and I began to look forward to his phone calls. I teased him about his unwillingness to share his phone number with me or to meet with me to spend an afternoon with me while my daughter was with her dad, but as time wore on I really began to wonder what was going on.
Anyway, the biggest drawback really was that he was not a believer. I prayed often for him, we spoke openly about my beliefs and the importance of my relationship with God. And as I felt my heart being drawn to him I began to ask that if this was not something I ought to pursue God would firmly shut the door.
My friend began to drift, but I continued to email as if all were well, he offered excuses-hard news about his dad's health, his ex contacting him with a mind to working things out. I offered my sympathetic concern and best wishes for him and his ex, to which he replied there was no future with her, but he wanted to maintain friendly. But he continued to drift and stubborn, hopeful me continued to pursue, and to pray for a closed door.
After almost a week's silence I received a one sentence email with "busyness" as an excuse. I called him on it, I knew he was available to other friends. I pointed out I was frustrated with the lopsidedness of our relationship, laid my cards on the table, as it were.

And the door slammed shut on my fingers. YEOUCH! God had shut that door repeatedly, I insisted on prying it open again & again. I knew I was going to get hurt, but I wanted to believe, desperately I was irresistible, desirable and worth fighting for, even as a friend. Turns out I was wrong. Lesson learned.
I still want to find that someone...the hardest thing to deal with today, in the aftermath was my little girl asking several times today when "can we get a new dad?" She wants to be loved & cherished too. I told her to keep asking God to bring us a good dad. As for me, I give up. If God wants me to be alone right now, so be it. He is all the friend and lover I need right now, and there is no better daddy for my little girl. Taking matters into my own hands is simply not a good idea-and hopefully next time I be more patient and wait for Him to bring me Mr Right.

My Lovely Garden

My lovely garden-

So carefully nurtured;

Cuttings and seedlings, so many hopes and dreams

Ravaged by violent winds and angry rain

I shook my fist at the storm clouds,

Helpless as what I had tended was swept away.

Only the strongest and best rooted survived;

And in their tenacity would bloom great and unexpected beauty.

The storm clouds fled,

The Sun restored.

And just, there,

Gleaming, shimmering

In the new light,

Long hidden, forgotten treasure

Once buried under my best laid plans.

A couple of years ago, shortly after I sent my second husband packing, I had a strange dream. In it I was at home, having coffee with a very dear friend, when an terrible storm arose. Thunderstorms here cause the gutters to fill quickly, the storm sewers can not keep up, and the water began to rise up over the lawn. My friend suddenly, in a panic, said she needed to get home, gave me a cursory hug and fled (or so it felt).

I stood alone watching the water rise from my window, bitterly thinking; "Fine, leave me here, alone. I don't need your help". My thoughts were angry & self-pitying. I was having hard time dealing with the emotional fallout of being single again. And then in my dream my whole attitude shifted. The water stopped rising & I realized my house was on higher ground, and my thoughts were that I was OK and I would be fine.

I wondered about the dream for several days, and then, finally the pieces fell into place. My ex had been making my life complicated and uncomfortable. He was hurting and angry, and I was bearing the brunt of his pain still. I felt like I had been left to cope with all of this on my own, like I had no one to lean on. And then I heard Holy Spirit tell me my house was on higher ground, my life is planted in The Rock, and I will be OK, all would be well.

Not long after that things settled down with my ex. I re-established ground rules for our communication and refused to get drawn into his drama. And today, when the storm clouds gather & I see the water start to rise I remember that my house is on higher ground.

Coming through the storms of life reveals new treasures, and sometimes has restored old, long forgotten dreams.

What storms have you weathered? What treasure did the rain uncover?

A letter to my son on his 18 birthday

Taking a slightly different tack today. My firstborn turns 18 today...it seems impossible-I look at the handsome boy/man he has become & I still see my little boy. I suppose every parent has a list somewhere of the things they want their children to know before they head off into the world. This is part of mine.

A letter to my son on his 18 birthday.

I know I’ve said it so many times before it must be sounding trite to you, but it really does seem like only yesterday you were a little boy, dragging around you blanket, crawling up into my lap with a story book. I never knew I could love with such intensity before I held you for the first time.

The first time I looked into your eyes I knew you were mine…there could be no doubt, my heart told the tale. How many hours did I watch you sleep, your breathing matching mine? Circumstance may have taken you from me far too soon, but I have striven to remain close, to be your advocate, to influence you to be your own person, to take your place in this world. I have delighted in watching you grow and learn, become the man you are today. I have felt your hurts in my heart, I have longed to be there to comfort you.

I also know that at 18 you think you are grown, that today you are a man. In the eyes of the law, perhaps this is so. In the eyes of your mother you will always, always be my little boy. And I know how much learning and growing there is still to come. Never stop learning. Never stop growing, for it is then that we become old. Choose life, choose joy, choose to do good wherever you can. There will be tears, let yourself weep, in joy and in sorrow, knowing that as the sunrise follows the sunset laughter will follow tears.

I wish I had great words of wisdom to give you, but I have to rest in knowing I did my best to teach you well when I have had the chance. Whatever happens in your life you know I am always here for you, ever your greatest champion. I have always believed you were destined for great things, but the greater the heights you strive for, the greater the heights you reach the further there is to fall. I wish you every success, but I know you will taste failure-let failure be a place of learning, and may every failure make each success sweeter. I desire great things for you, but have tried to not burden you with my hopes and dreams-you need to find your own way, be your own man.

Don’t forget who you are, or where you came from. You are a beloved child of God, entrusted to my care for just a little while. I pray for you always, you are ever in my heart. I do not take a breath without thinking of you. I have been asking Holy Spirit to reveal Himself to you, that you might come to know and desire the things of God-it is in that place you will truly flourish. You are my high flyer.

No one else can make you happy. Your happiness is yours alone-if you look outside yourself to find it you will be disappointed. Be content, always, even as you pursue better things, with what you have. Envy and anger become bitterness and will eat away at you like a cancer in your soul. So will doubt and fear. Trust me in this, and know that these things are insidious. Guard against them. Keep people in your life who know you well and whom you trust to always speak the truth. Weigh what they tell you against your conscience and against the Word of God in your heart. Don’t be afraid to say you were wrong and to change course. Forgive. Always forgive. Forgiveness is not for the one who wronged you but for yourself. It sets you free. Forgiveness does not excuse the wrong done, it does not mean you forget. It is a choice, and you will find, sometimes a difficult one.

Create balance in your life. Work hard at what ever your chosen vocation is, but make room to care for your spirit, to pray & worship, to reflect, to rest. Always have time for your friends, for the people who love you-when life gets hard they will be the ones you can lean on, who will carry you until you are ready to stand on your own again. Find room in every day for the things that give you pleasure-surround yourself with things that make you smile.

And whatever else happens, remember, your mother loves you.