Musings of my heart

 

                                                 

          Every day there are reminders that Kari is not here with me. Sometimes they are hard reminders and other times, like today, they are beautiful reminders of how she gave so much when she was here and continued to give when she no longer needed her body as she was an organ donor.

          As I filled out some paperwork today, it hit my heart differently this time. I'm so proud of Kari. The girls and I have had talks about being an organ donor and Kari and I had talked of it and she had been very clear that she wanted to help others if something happened to her. And she did.

These are not conversations you always think of having with your teens, but they are important. Don't be afraid to have hard conversations with your teens.

I never would have expected to ever be holding these papers in my hand. I never would have expected to have had to make that decision because I never would have dreamed I would outlive my daughter.

          Trusting God with our children is so hard, especially when we pray for something that doesn't come because then we are left with trusting His heart over our circumstances.  Kari loved Jesus. She always had this ability to make your heart smile. When Kari and I went to Texas for two weeks and stayed at the Ronald Mcdonald House for the Children's Cook Hospital to have extensive testing done for her rising seizures, she would pray every day and ask God to heal her. She always ended it with, "even if You don't God, I always love you."  She would fall asleep and I would pray and pray that God would heal her. My faith wasn't as strong as hers...I didn't want there to be an "even if"...I just wanted her healed. I felt like she had already had a difficult start and I just wanted her life to be beautiful from the moment we adopted her until forever.

         We had so many people praying for her and had such huge support from family and friends. Kari loved every one of them and held them close to her heart always. When we left the hospital two weeks later, we still didn't have good answers. We had a lot of "theories" and a lot of doctor appointments ahead but there didn't appear to be good answers to really hard questions. She was having grand mal seizures every day sometimes several times a day and I don't know if you have ever seen one, but when your child has one, it can cripple you with fear. Instead, I saw her sisters and her family learn how to help her through them. They learned how to stay calm in the middle of them, how to roll her to her side, time her seizures, try and find something soft to put under her head, and talk gently to her until it was over. I saw her sisters learn how to go on about their day after witnessing their sister have repeated and significant seizures. It affected the whole family in such a deep way.

         Our family grew in many ways during that time...some of us grew closer and stronger and others grew apart, perhaps unable to handle all the things that were now a part of our daily life. Kari's seizures began to come under control only for her rages to replace them. The rages were harder to handle and process. I saw her sisters quickly learn how to remove their younger sisters from danger when Kari would explode. I also saw them develop some fear and anxiety because they never knew when she would explode. It would be instant and fierce when it did happen. During much of this time, it was just the girls and I handling it and trying so desperately to hold it all together through some of the hardest times as their dad was in rehab during much of this. I cannot tell you how many tears I cried or how I would lay on the floor at night, completely prostrate before God, begging Him to fix it all...my marriage, my daughter, my family...and to be honest, everything I prayed for did not go as I wanted it to.

         I divorced my husband, my Kari girl began rotating in and out of inpatient facilities and I went to work full time, which changed the environment for my girls drastically as I was no longer there with them throughout the day. I wrestled with all of these things for so long because I felt like such a failure in pretty much every area. I felt like if I had been able to stay at home as a stay-at-home mom (like I felt I was called to do), Kari would not have had to live in the inpatient, but it simply wasn't safe for her without me being able to be there 100 % of the time...it wasn't really safe even when I was there.

         But this isn't a sad blog today....because I see things differently now. I see my divorce as protection from many things that were going on that just weren't good or safe for my family. I see the years the girls and I had struggled with it being just us as something that deepened the relationship I have with each of them. We are not perfect by any means, but we love each other fiercely and deeply. After MANY DIFFERENT inpatient facilities, God brought us to CountryLane and it became a home for Kari and they loved her like her own family and I loved them for that. My goal was always to bring Kari home and then right when we were SO CLOSE to her coming back home, God took her home.

         They say that everything happens for a reason...I believe that to be true because I believe in a Sovereign God. I know God could have healed Kari. I know He could have taken all of her seizures away, rages away, mental illness...all of it could have been gone with one word from Him. And I don't understand why that couldn't have become part of our story....but then I think of Kari being in Heaven for over a year now and everything she has experienced since going home. I think my limited knowledge of Heaven gives me those moments of wishing she was still here because, in reality, I want her there more than anything else. She is exactly where we pray our children to go when they die.

                                                 To Heaven.

         And she is there because SHE CHOSE to make Christ her King. She didn't wait until she was grown to make that decision, if she had done that, she wouldn't be in Heaven right now. She didn't wait for God to heal her to serve Him and make Him Lord....she made Him her King when she was just a child and then she loved Him even when everything was a hot mess in her world. She lived out her "Even if" all the way home. Sometimes when I close my eyes, I can imagine her being escorted to Heaven by angels ( I don't know if that's how it works or if she was instantly in front of Jesus) but I imagine they escort her there and she is giggling in her beautiful way and then...there He is. Her King. I imagine her running to Him with full-on Kari joy and throwing herself in His arms and being wrapped in His arms. I can almost hear His laughter as He swoops her up. I can see her and Him sitting together and talking as she talks to Him about each of the people she loves. I can see His light all around her, see her stunning blue eyes lit up with the sheer beauty of fully understanding just how loved and valued she is. That was something she always struggled with and I know now that she knows more than any of us here can ever understand.

Through all of this God was faithful.

He didn't ignore my prayers.

         You see, as a follower of Christ we look at life differently and we have the Holy Spirit give us insight into things that otherwise we just could not understand. It doesn't mean we don't have really hard conversations with God. Believe me, I have wrestled with God so many times and have fought against His way versus my way in a ferocious way at times. It doesn't mean we are "super-spiritual" and just always sees things through the eyes of God. We don't.

We are a messy and imperfect family. Full of downfalls, messy decisions, poor choices, love, forgiveness, ups and downs, a flow of joy and grief all wrapped up together to create our family.

Just like all of you.

Just like the people we read about in the Bible.

         I think that is part of the beauty of this journey here. Learning to see the value in all the chapters of your story and in all the people involved. Learning to surrender your own plans for His, your dreams for your children for His plans for them, and learning to see those who played a role in your darkest chapters as deeply valuable to your own growth. This life isn't easy for any of us. Sometimes there are parts of it that I want to kick and scream against, but I am slowly learning that God is in every part. I know some people will disagree with this next statement and that's ok because it's just my opinion :) But I believe that God was active and engaged in my divorce....did He desire that for us? No. But He allows certain things for our protection. Things that at first can seem so unbearable. I believe that God was active and engaged in Kari going home when she did.

We can't just believe in God when everything goes well in our life.

We can't just believe in God when every time we pray, He answers just what we prayed for. The Hope of Christ is not contingent upon my circumstances.

         Romans 8:24-28 have been verses that I have been able to stand rooted in when my own knees would not hold me up anymore and the very earth I stood on seemed to be shaking. His Word is firm and steady so I cling to it even now.

These verses say:

"For in this hope we were saved. But hope that is seen is no hope at all. Who hopes for what they already have? But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently. In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans. And he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit because the Spirit intercedes for God’s people in accordance with the will of God. And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose."NIV

          I guess tonight my heart was just heavy with these words and memories. I often hear people say they could never handle one thing or another and the truth is yes you can. By the grace of God, by the strength of the Holy Spirit within you...YES, YOU CAN. I bet you have already walked through things that you never would have wanted or thought you could make it through....because that's just life on the wrong side of the garden if you will. 

          Walking through all of these hard things has strengthened a resolve deep within my spirit in the knowledge that no man (and no situation) can ever take away from me.

The knowledge that my God is faithful. 

He is worthy to be praised. 

He will not ever abandon me. 

He is active in all parts of my life.

His ways are not like mine, and that's a good thing.

          I still have so much to learn about life and faith and loving brave. I'm so grateful for this journey though. There is a supernatural beauty that comes from loving brave in a cruel and hard world that is determined to strip you of hope, but instead, you are able to stare that enemy straight in the eye and bravely hold up the light of truth, wrapped up in the purest form of authentic love that comes from living a life interwoven with joy and grief...and you declare loud and clear for all to hear, " My God Reigns!"

You finished the race before me

 

I have often used music and writing as a way of processing and expressing my emotions. This time is no different.

One day as I was driving home from work and missing Kari so very much and praying, asking God why His plan couldn't have included Kari being healed and why things had to go the way they have....tears began running down my face as my heart beat a desperate plea within my chest and with each beat of my heart, I was reminded with great pain that my daughter's heart did not beat this side of heaven. I began to ask God to help me see that His way is always good and that my way cannot be trusted because I would have my children live forever. And is that so bad? Wanting our children to outlive us? Isn't that the natural order of things? I wrestled as I have often done with the knowledge that God's ways are simply not mine and I have to trust His way even when I don't understand it. This requires a level of faith that I don't always feel I have to give....and that is where surrender comes in. 

God is always so gentle with me and that is one of the reasons He is always the safest place for me to express my deepest and darkest questions and thoughts. He has never once brought judgment or condemnation for my questions and seeking...in fact, Jeremiah 29:13 is one of my favorite verses because it tells me that if I SEEK I will find. 

The Hebrew word for seek is Baqash– to seek, search, or consult. This word has been used to describe seeking something that’s lost or missing, to seek one’s face, or to aim at, devote oneself to, and be concerned about something. The word baqash is used in Jeremiah 29:13, “And you will seek Me and find Me, when you search for Me with all your heart.” 

That describes me perfectly when it comes to how I wrestle and SEEK after God's wisdom time after time. 

So when I didn't understand why Kari couldn't have been healed, I remembered another time in my life when I had to wait before I understood...I was asking for the redemption of my marriage and I was wrestling with what to do.....and maybe this is like that too. Maybe I'm not ready to fully understand it yet. But I have learned to trust my Father's heart and His wisdom even when I simply don't understand or agree. 

So back to me driving home from work...as the questions fell from my lips, these words came into my mind..."She finished the race before you and she finished it well."

It was so clearly spoken to my heart that I had to pull over on that old dirt road and sit for a minute and absorb those words. 

So as we come upon the one-year anniversary day of my precious daughter finishing her race, it just seemed fitting for me to share these words with you. I could write about many memories and how difficult this last year has been but I think these words are important. Because so many times we forget that not only are WE running a race...but so are our children. And none of us get to see when the race ends. Until it ends. 

So as we look at our children and the way we are raising them...I think it is important to ask, "How are we teaching them to run their race?" 

Teach them well my friends. It matters.

Pour His truth into them. 

Teach them the value of having a relationship with Christ.

Teach them to run to Him in their brokenness and to become seekers of Him. 

Teach them to know that the ways of this world are different than the ways of the Father....which means their ways of living are different from the ways of this world. 

Teach them to see the power of the scars of Christ as He conquered and defeated death FOR THEIR SAKE.

Teach them to finish their race well my friends....because none of us really know when our race may come to an end but it will come to an end for all of us. So let us run our race with endurance and lead by example for our children so that we all finish our race well. 

You finished the race before me:

When you were a child, I held you in my arms. I promised you that I would teach you everything I knew about Him. As you grew, I taught you about His love. I taught you to listen to His voice, to listen to His song for you. But a momma can only teach the love of the Father. You and you alone had to choose who you would serve. 

As I sat and heard your little voice asking Jesus to be your King, my heart became overwhelmed with joy for the journey you had just begun....and your race was on. 

You have finished your race and you got to cross that finish line. You have got to see the face of the King! You know all of His glory because you finished your race before I did. You are not afraid of anything anymore because you finished your race and you finished it well. 

As you continued to grow baby girl, life wasn't easy. You wrestled with who you are and why things had to be, but you always loved your King. You stayed in the race even when it was so hard. You began to shine His light through your pain. You answered the hard questions in His name. You weren't afraid to wrestle with the King of kings...now you've finished your race, and you finished it well. 

You became a friend to Jesus like He was a friend to you. You spoke His name into the dark and you spoke His name into your fear. You finished your race, and you finished it well. You have got to cross that finish line before I did and you have got to see the majesty of your King when you finished your race....and you finished it well. 

I miss you and can't wait for you to show me the wonders of Heaven that you already know so well. 

Sometimes thankfulness looks like tears: Our first Thanksgiving without her

 

Thanksgiving approaches.

With it comes overwhelming gratitude...

With it comes overwhelming sadness...

The beauty of true thankfulness is that it looks all of life right in the eye and acknowledges all the chapters that have come so far....and it says thank you. 

Thankfulness doesn't come from having a life that is perfectly packaged and delivered in Pinterest worthy fashion. 

Thankfulness that flows from the heart can be wrapped in ribbons of humanity which may look like sadness, grief, questions, and wonderings....and through it all, a steady rhythm beats in the breast of the brokenhearted. Thankful. Grateful. Humbled to live a life that is rich with all that life has to offer, which includes pain and hurt sometimes. 

This will be the first Thanksgiving without our Kari girl on earth. 

I close my eyes and think of how we will all gather together and bow our heads and she will not be there with us. 

I think of how we will each take a plate and fill it full with favorite dishes that are looked forward to each year, and how she will not be there. 

I close my eyes and am taken back to years before...and can hear her laugh so clearly that I long to keep my eyes closed forever, for I know when I open them...she will be gone again. In the quiet moments where I am taken back in time, I see her pumping her legs on a swing singing her praises out to Jesus loud and sweet. I see long blonde hair streaming in the breeze and a smile as she looks up to Heaven singing to her King. How she loved singing to Him! I keep my eyes closed and breathe deep and slow...and think of how she is now walking with Jesus face to face and how she must be singing to Him with such joy. 

I slowly open my eyes and am back...here in the house where she was raised...where her pictures still smile back at me from their spot on the wall and where her imprints are seen every day. I look out the window and see the brilliant colored leaves falling from the trees and wonder if there is a Fall in Heaven. I see the wind blow the leaves around and the sunshine plays on the burning bush in the yard and think of the colors Kari must be seeing this year in Heaven. Colors that my eyes have never seen. 

Thanksgiving. A time we pause and think of all that we have been given. This year, I think of all that I have lost as well. Thinking about the things lost isn't bad when it is wrapped in the very presence of the King. The loss is a reality. But so is the presence of Christ through it all. That acknowledgment brings about such thankfulness in my soul. 

As I stand up slowly from the porch and lift my face to the sun and feel the warmth of it caress my wounded heart, I am able to lift up hands that are weary as well and praise God in the midst of deep heartbreak. Gratitude floods over me in gentle waves even as tears fall down my face. I take a deep breath again...and I lean into the strength that Christ offers me through a Cross that is blood-soaked and stained with the burdens of His daughters and sons. That Cross leads my eyes to look to the tomb where He was laid silent and cold and I think of the pain I felt when I picked out a place to lay my Kari. I let those emotions come and I take another deep breath...slow and deep. I think of that tomb where Christ was laid and I look up to Heaven where I know He reigns eternal. I think of the empty tomb and the risen Savior and thankfulness crashes over me as I sink down to my knees. 

It took His death to defeat the death of my daughter. It took the death of my Savior to give life to my Kari without any pain and any grief. I see the clouds pass by in the sky, taking different shapes as they blow across my hurting heart, and peace comes. A peace that my Kari girl has not had a single seizure since she stepped onto a street made of gold. She has not struggled with fears or anxiety even once. She has not wrestled against the mental illness that she fought hard on a daily basis. A calmness comes over me as I think of her dancing and giggling her infectious giggle and a smile breaks out across my face. My momma's heart rejoices with my baby girl and I whisper to her, "Happy Thanksgiving Kari". 

True Thanksgiving comes from a broken and contrite heart that sees the beauty of the heart of Christ. 

When He gives.

When He takes.

So this Thanksgiving, my prayer for all of you is that you will not just "count your blessings" but that you will take time to pause long enough to look at some of the hardest parts of your story, the parts that brought you to your knees...and You will see a strand of beauty rising from that pain. You will see the presence of Christ woven throughout those parts of your story...steady and strong. The Rock that has gotten you through the deepest of shatterings. 

Ladder of life

 I recently was asked to write a paper on where I feel like I am in life. It showed a picture of a ladder and the assignment was to look at the ladder and then write the paper on where I felt like I was at on that ladder in achieving and reaching the goals I have set for myself from when I was a child to now. 

Well, now that is quite a complex question, isn't it?! Because life is an ever-flowing flood of grace and sorrow wrapped in many different emotions. It did give me pause though and offered me an opportunity to take that step back and think about goals I had set for myself as a child and the journey of life that has brought me to where I am at today. Life gives us so many opportunities to learn and grow, reaching into parts of our hearts that we may wall off at times but then slowly feel safe enough to pause long enough to pull them out ever so gently and look at the moments that took from us, taught us, gave to us and ultimately helped shape us. 

When I think of where I am at right now, I have many emotions flood over me. I am in a spot that is very different from where I imagined I would be and yet...I am in a beautiful spot. I wear many scars that once use to look old and ugly and they were full of pain for me, but God has a way of showing us beauty in pain and that is especially true within our own hearts. So as I began to be brave enough to look at old dreams, new goals, and the faithfulness of and love of Christ through it all, I began to feel so humbled at the beautiful life I have been given to live. 

When I was a little girl, I dreamed of one thing...to be a wife and a mom. I became just that. I spent 20 years being a wife and I have the honor of being a mom to six girls that have changed my world in so many ways. I have been a foster mom to over 36 babies and they have all captured my heart and I still pray for each of them by name to this day. I was well on my way up that ladder of success the world talks about. I was active in the foster/adoptive community, leading small groups in the recovery ministry, and homeschooling my girls. I loved being a wife and a mom....but then the shattering happened. 

I became divorced. 

I had to go to work outside the home full time.

I could no longer homeschool.

Finances were nonexistent. 

My daughters were struggling and I was struggling. 

Mental health became a real concern as my daughter with special needs began to spiral and hard choices were having to be made.

I didn't just get knocked down a rung or two on the ladder...I was thrown off and into a pit that had been dug below the ladder that I never even realized was there. I was deep in pain and completely broken. I had moved into survival mode and wasn't even sure I would be able to do that on most days. And yet...God was there. Deep in that pit I sat, broken, wounded, and bleeding raw. Feeling forgotten, thrown away, and without purpose. I was lost. I thought many dark thoughts as hopelessness poured into me day after day. Everything I had prayed for was gone. Everything I had thought I was called to do as my purpose was no longer there. I was faced with more challenges than would fit on this blog and they overwhelmed my soul to complete despair. 

I knew to do only one thing. 

Cling to my anchor. 

Although I couldn't see Christ and I couldn't feel Him...I could hear Him. He continued to sing over me and through His Word I was able to hear His voice speaking strength into me. Each day I would lay in that bed and pray for the strength to make it through, for healing to come to my daughter's broken hearts, and for us to remember what joy tasted like.

 I would close my eyes and picture myself on a cliff. I would look down into the darkest waters of turmoil I was walking through and I would feel the rush of pain with each wave as it crashed into my heart. I would take a deep breath. I would envision Christ, strong and steady behind me. I would think about God being a rock behind my back. I would sink myself into the image of Christ and I would see the Word of God as a huge strong tree with roots deep and one of those roots was wrapped around me and connected into my heart, pumping lifeblood into my hurting soul. I would take another deep breath. I would sink back against His Word, steady and strong and true. I would repeat it out loud and often. I made a decision to believe what the Word of God said about me instead of my broken heart. No matter how crazy the waves got or how high they came up the cliff they could not overtake me as long as I stayed rooted to His Word. 

Day by day went by and the simply beautiful became a part of our everyday life. Each day we lived grateful and humble for the life that God was giving us. It was a very different life than what we had imagined but new adventures can always seem scary at first. If you commit to seeing the beautiful, it has a way of finding you. As far as the ladder goes...I have decided that I want nothing to do with the man-made ladder. Instead, I want to be deeply rooted in the tree so that I am just an extension of it. A branch that is able to grow beautiful fruit that can provide hope to others in the midst of dark pain. 

I believe now that pain and sorrow surrendered to hope create fruit that is different than other fruit that has never experienced pain and never surrendered to hope. Pain can create fruit that is bitter to others but pain surrendered to hope is a fruit that draws close to the pain of others and offers to just sit there with them...and in the sitting with others, healing comes. It is something beautiful to no longer afraid of pain, sorrow, or grief. It becomes the ability to stare straight into another person's hurting heart and remind them of the One who never stops singing over them. 

So about that ladder...well...it is just a part of my past now. Something I learned from and grew from but no longer has a place in my life. I may not be "successful" according to the world, but I love my new beautiful. I love that each day there is another part of God's heart that I get to learn about. Each day I get to walk with others who hurt, question, wrestle and stumble as they come to find the beautiful in their journey as well. Life is about adventure and seeking. My favorite verse has been Jeremiah 29:13 for many, many years and I always hear adventure and beauty in it. It says, "And you will seek m and find me when you seek me with all your heart." Our heart holds many things...wonder, pain, grief, joy, laughter, questions...and when we seek God in each of those things, we find Him. Without fail, you will find Him. 

It's not going to look like what you thought it would and it will require bravery that you may not think you have. It may take more out of you than you think you can give but remember that surrendered pain brings forth unparalleled beauty that boldly and gratefully shows the scars they bear knowing that those scars hold the song of hope woven into each one of them. 

Holy Grief

 

                                            Holy Grief

Such beautiful and powerful words to me. I sit here thinking on these things and wonder how can this love be? The depth of this kind of love requires so much grief....the giving of one's child. It is not lost on me that my King knows my pain....the deep gut wrenching difficult to explain kind of pain that comes from the loss of a child. 

Romans 5:8, "God demonstrates His love for us in that while we were still sinners Christ died for us." 

I keep reading these words over and over again....because I am finding there is a holy grief that comes with the beauty of our salvation. I'm just starting to discover what this means for me....what it means for all of us and what it has meant all along and we didn't even know it. 

Imagine for just a moment that the world around you is covered in fog and you are trying to walk down an old country dirt road that you have never walked before. The road is unfamiliar even though you have been on other country roads such as this one....but this one has turns, rough patches, stones and rocks in the path, and  holes that dip randomly in the middle of the road. Other parts of the road are soft and easy to walk on but because the fog is so thick that you can't see anything around you even though you know that it is there. At times, the fog will lift and you will see the road in front of you. You may see a hole that you can walk around or a flower on the side of the road that you want to stop and stare at for a moment. At other times, the fog is so thick that all you can do is blindly keep moving in front of you hoping that the road will be there when you take your next step. At times, you stumble and fall, tripping over stones or logs laying in the road...and other times when the fog falls thick upon you, it can result in you falling into one of the holes in the road. Some of them are easy to climb out of but others are much deeper and require a lot of strength and creativity to get you out of them. 

This is grief.

I have wrestled with God on how to walk through grief WHILE worshiping Him. 

Here is what I am learning.

Grief is a holy thing at times....if we let it be. It can heal and draw us close to the heart of Christ even as it strips us of dreams and plans we had.  Holy grief is a sanctification of grief. It turns the very essence of grief that threatens to destroy us into a drawing close of the Father's heart, revealing an intimacy with our King that comes with shared grief. 

I still wrestle with the words, " passed away....or died." I try and say them but they still get stuck in my throat and when they come out they are usually wrapped in tears. I prefer to say, "went home"....because to me that is truth. My daughter went home on January 14th, 2020 and it still amazes me the amount of fog that immediately came in that moment. I was shrouded in heavy thick fog and felt it difficult to breathe in. The air around me felt thick and I felt it was unfair that I was allowed to breathe it when my daughter was not. Every breath hurt at first....and every breath was a reminder of my daughter who wasn't here and I hated that. 

I found myself wrestling with these deep feelings of joy and grief....I suppose that one would wonder how there could ever even be joy when it comes to the death of a child. As a believer I know that my daughter is in Heaven. I know this to be true as deeply as I know the sun will rise and set each day. I know that my daughter knew Jesus as her Lord and King and I know that in that exact moment that she went from this world to Heaven, she was instantly healthy, active, and full of joy. So yes....I rejoice that she is there and getting to talk to Moses, Esther, and Nebuchadnezzar. I rejoice that she has felt the physical arms of Jesus around her and breathed in the very scent of Christ and that she has looked into the eyes of God and seen what color they are. I rejoice that she knows so much more than I do right now and that she will love to share everything with me when I go home....I rejoice in these things....and I grieve these things.

I grieve because her and I were going to live out our lives together in our little country home on our little country road. I grieve because she had worked so hard and had come so far and I grieve because I feel like she had so much life ahead of her still! I grieve because I miss her. I grieve because each day that goes by I am expected to move forward without her and I hate that. And in the grief I find myself desperately searching the Scriptures to know if God understands....because so often it feels like no one can know this pain. The grief can be isolating and lonely. 

Walking through the death of my daughter as a single mom is deeply lonely. Many times I find myself holding it together and being strong for my daughters during the day only to lose myself in tears at night and all you want is someone to sit with you and walk through it with you. The grief brings up pain and anger that I long ago thought had been dealt with....anger that I am a single mom. Anger that I didn't get to spend more moments with her because I was working. Pain that I missed even one moment with her. Anger that her heart was broken by things I couldn't control. Pain that she walked through so much hurt, abandonment and grief when all I wanted for her to have was beauty, security and a stable family. These things seem to come to me at night with such intensity that I am brought to my knees many nights asking God to show me how I am suppose to do this. 

One night as I sat in my war room wrapped in my favorite flannel blanket, I just cried. I couldn't stop no matter what I did. I just wept. And I cried out to God during this time....cried all the pain and hurt and I grabbed my pen and started writing, "How could you?" "Why did you?" "What did this serve?" "Forgive me" "I'm so sorry that I can't rejoice in this the way You need me too"....I just poured out all my thoughts and questions because I know for sure and certain that God is big enough to handle my pain. I wept and grieved all the things that I thought were unfair. I cried that whole night and then I heard the whisper of the Holy Spirit that spoke such gentle words to me, "Your grief is holy. I too know holy grief. You are not alone." And I knew it to be true. I sat there on my knees in that little closet wrapped in a flannel blanket and just let those words flow over me. 

God has carried me through every really tough time and I have learned to throw myself into His Word because without it....I simply can't. Can't...anything. I need His Word. I need the strength that comes from His Word. I need the hope that comes from His Word. So when God directed me first to John 3:16, then to Romans 5:8. and I began to see that God knows what it is like to pour Himself out and still be abandoned. He knows what it is like to have a broken heart. He knows what it is like to watch His child hurt and cry and feel angry that anyone caused them pain. He knows the very real human emotion that I feel and He isn't afraid of it. 

I don't think we fully can understand the great depth of love He has for us. Because if we did, I don't know that we would ever get off of our knees in worship. The love I feel towards my daughter is deep and unwavering...and I can promise you that I would not give her up for the world to be saved. That kind of love is beyond me right now....it amazes me and I praise His name for it but I cannot replicate it and honestly do not want too. I want my girls to stay with me. I want to die before them. I don't want the world to hurt them or make them feel sad. God gave up His Son that WHILE WE WERE STILL SINNERS Christ died for us....STILL SINNERS. So WHILE we were caught up in our own selfish ways, He loved us. He longed for us to know His heart. That love was so deep that He willingly laid down His life for us....knowing fully our imperfections and hot messes that we would be. 

He knows my grief. More than anyone else. He knows the ache of being separated from your child. He knows the longing that is so intense at times because you just want to see her. He knows.

So yes, grief can be holy. This grief has once again brought to light that I am in desperate need of a Savior. It has shown me once again that in my weakest moments He will be my strength. As we enter into Holy Week for Easter, I am drawn to my knees more often than not. This Easter is different for me. I have been a believer for over 30 years now but I think I am just now getting a truer understanding of just what God gave up for us on that cross. I am just now drawing close to the intimacy of grief that came from the Cross...from death....that resulted in abundant eternal joy for Kari. I know I will step into this Holy Week very different this year and as the grief and joy flow mingled together within in my own heart, I will draw close to the heart of my King knowing that Kari is celebrating her very first Easter celebration in Heaven next to angels in holy worship of Christ and it will bring me comfort as I walk this holy grief out.

A beautifully simple life

 

I had a wonderful mentor many years ago explain to me what it meant to be an INFJ. I was so intrigued back then because it finally put somethings in my life in perspective and it helped me make sense of things I had struggled with because I didn't know how to explain it. As a teen I was so insecure and shy and always preferred to be outside with the animals or sitting in a deep conversation with someone rather than the "normal" teen stuff.

But as I have grown I have learned that this is just how God made me. I have grown to love those parts of myself that can make me seem weird to people :) God creates us each so wonderfully and with such precision. It always astounds me. Each of us have been given a mighty and magnificent purpose and some of us may live ours out in a quiet and gentle way....and that's ok.

Today while out riding horses with my daughter, I loved the conversation we had about how kindness really is a super power and that being kind and gentle in a hard and ugly world requires a strength that not everyone has naturally but when we surrender our lives to the Holy Spirit, He is able to do supernatural work and empower us to walk really hard situations out with grace.

My heart is happy that I am no longer embarrassed or afraid of who I am. It only took 41 years....but hey.....I'm a work in progress! I'm grateful that I can walk confidently in Christ and know who I am in Him. It completely changes everything. No longer do we look for acceptance from others or things. We simply live out brave by His power. For me to learn this, there had to be a stripping of myself. A stripping away of all that I had wrapped up my identity in. Personally that was incredibly painful and something I resisted even as I knew I would grow from it. For all of my adult life had been wrapped up in being a mom and a wife and in the stripping of those things I was left with a burning question deep within me....WHO AM I? What is my value?

I clung to the Word of God as a lifeline that would either see me through or take me home because the process was so painful. Long before the shattering happened though, God was equipping me as an INFJ and He had already put inside of me a deep desire to stand firm on His Word.

As I have spent the last few years getting to know me again, I'm glad that I am different. I'm happy that God continues to remind me that I am fearfully and wonderfully made and that my purpose never wavered or disappeared although my spirit wrestled with it for sure.

Now I am loving my simple and beautiful life. I am confident in who I am in Christ and in His power in me. I'm confident that God put me together just as He wanted me to be. I'm confident that although I still have much to learn, that in and of itself is a beautiful adventure!

Simple. Raw. Real. Authentic.

It really is a beautiful place to be.

The Lines We Draw

We all draw lines in the sand. Those things that we believe deeply in and for and that we will not budge on. These are the things that make up our belief system. We all have them. Even as children we have these lines and we want them to be respected and even more importantly, we want them to be understood. 

 Sometimes I wonder why each of us decide to draw the line in the sand where we do. 

Every line that is drawn should be something that we believe deeply in the core of who we are. Our lines should point back to what we believe and how we live that out.

So that makes me very careful about my lines. It makes me very aware of my lines. Because my lines and your lines matter. They matter a great deal and they direct each of us in many ways. They also reflect our heart and what we believe in. 

I think we need to make sure and take time to evaluate the line we are drawing.

I usually have one question I ask myself when I am about to draw a line. Here it is," Does it stop me from sharing the Gospel?"

If the answer is yes....then I simply MUST draw the line. 

If the answer is no....I need to pause. Evaluate. Then make a decision that best supports the Gospel being spread.

It feels like many of us have forgotten that is the goal. 

Instead we join right in with the loud gonging that is so very loud in our world today, and instead of bringing peace, we bring pain and hurt as we demand that our way is heard. We scream virtually at strangers and friends both because their line is different than ours.

There is a Scripture that is overlooked more often than not with believers. It is Romans 12:18. It says that if we can live at peace with men....to do so. 

Be careful which sword you die by....and where you draw your line.

We are arguing about so many things that we simply do not have to be arguing about. We are making post on our social media pages that are harsh, judgmental and even cruel. We mock people's pain, ignore people's trauma, make fun of a person's struggle, and  refuse to acknowledge an opinion that would defer from ours because we quite honestly walk around arrogantly thinking we are right. 

So let me ask you again....

Does it prevent you from sharing the Gospel?

I teach my girls to make a stand.

I teach them to know what they believe and be able to defend that belief system by knowing WHY they believe that way.

I teach them to be bold and brave.

However.....I also teach them to make a difference by quietly going about each of their days with kindness, love, a listening ear, and a brave heart. 

They do not need the world to agree with them to live out what they believe.

They do not need to be right in every conversation.

They do not need to surround themselves with people who only think like they think.

They DO need to learn how to handle conflict with grace.

They DO need to know how to articulate their beliefs without having to curse, scream, or belittle. 

They DO need to learn how to see past an action and into the root of why....oh if we all could do this!

They DO need to learn when and where to draw a line. 

They DO need to learn how to live out Romans 12:18.

So my dear friends....let's go and be brave enough to be kind and to live at peace with all men if possible for us to do so. 

And when we draw our line, I pray it is drawn because of love.