“I love you no matter what, I just want you to be happy and always be who you are. She wrapped her arms around me and said don’t try to be what your not, because I love you no matter what”

“I love you no matter what, I just want you to be happy and always be who you are. He wrapped his arms around me and said don’t try to be what your not, because I love you no matter what” Song Lyrics from Calum Scott

“How can I love when I am afraid to fall… Darling, don’t be afraid because I loved you for a thousand years, and I will love you for a thousand more” Song lyrics from Christina Perri

Songs, music speak to me in ways I can’t quite explain. I am not musically talented in anyway. I was terrible in band, and while I was in choir for a short bit, I never thought I was anything special, it was merely just an easy A.

I plucked these words right out of two different songs that literally came one after another on my music shuffle list. And BAM, the words penetrated deep inside of me. Not unusual, since for me I function on a different spectrum so much of the time. Most that know me and engage heavily know I am rather random. One of my dear friends, he often gets texts from me asking him questions, and he has come to refer to me as “random” Yes, that about sums up how my thought process is. I have realized as I have gotten older how much my younger daughter is the same. She produces random sentences that I am left trying to figure out where she is or what she is talking about.

Jigsaw. a puzzle consisting of a picture printed on cardboard or wood and cut into various pieces of different shapes that have to be fitted together. a mystery that can only be resolved by assembling various pieces of information. (Webster) This is me. Yet, I don’t have the printed picture. I am thinking God forgot to include that with my packaging.

If your putting a puzzle together and your normal, you probably start with outside and go inward. I am not wired that way, I am random. Hence, why my husband dislikes putting puzzles together with me. Each piece of the puzzle is unique from how it’s shaped, to how it’s colored so that it can fit appropriately into the right place with the big printed picture. But me, my piece it hasn’t ever found its big printed master piece. It will try and fit into places in which it does’t belong. And then move along to the next place trying to find it’s place of connectedness. This has essentially been my life. I have moved from place to place trying to find the place that will complete me. The place, or the people that will embrace the thorny, broken, mysterious girl.

“I love you no matter what, I just want you to be happy and always be who you are. She/He wrapped her/his arms around me and said don’t try to be what your not, because I love you no matter what”

These words. These words explain me. They explain the mystery of me. I am not like so many, who know this, without question, without even thinking. My son, when told that we his parents love him, responded with a “I know, that’s a given” was such an eye opening thought to me. On one hand reassuring knowing that I struggle to vocalize the words, but also eye opening because it was in this moment I realized, this is that I have missed out on- assurance. Assurance that no matter what I am loved, someone is proud of me. Confidence that is so strong it cannot be undone. I don’t have that assurance. I have fear. Fear that I will make a decision, a choice and all who have loved me, all I have perhaps made proud will walk out that door and there I will be sitting alone unable to pick myself up off the ground. Although, I have always been able to pick myself back up and sweep away the pain that brews deep within the walls of my body- I still walk thinking one day I just won’t be able to do it anymore.

“How can I love when I am afraid to fall… Darling, don’t be afraid because I loved you for a thousand years, and I will love you for a thousand more”

The first time I heard this song, it made me think of a dad, or mom like figure speaking love into my heart. Trying to speak confidence and assurance into my bones in order that I would feel what their kids felt growing up. Never doubting their love. But I do doubt. Sometimes, I want to text these remarkable people in my life, just to say “I love you” because I am doubting their love for me. Yes, that’s the picture perfect look at me. Secret is out! Most likely if I text something as random as an “I love you” we can all know I am low on confidence that I am loved. Plus, we all know how much I don’t say those words. But, I fight myself not to text it because I don’t know, it seems so weird.

Second, time I really sat and listened to those lyrics. “How can I love when I am afraid to fall… Darling, don’t be afraid because I loved you for a thousand years, and I will love you for a thousand more” It was like the words sprung out of the song, shouting at me. First, it recognized my fear, my fear of falling. Now, I am not afraid of heights, if anything I am risk taker married to a risk analyzer- which makes for quite a combo. But my fear of falling and being rejected. Next, the word: Darling. It reminds me of Jeremiah 31:3 Beloved, I have loved with an everlasting love. I have drawn you with unfailing kindness.

What have I learned? I have connected a few pieces in my big unseen puzzle of my life. I have connected that the God of my heart, is the God who loves me at my worst, loves me in my okay stage and loves me when I am at my best. He is the God, who loves me no matter what. The God who is proud of me. The God who wraps His arms around me even when I am not expecting it. He is the God, who knows my deepest fear, and the disparity of my heart. He is the God who is there to carefully take my fallen, cracked, flawed, thorny body that has been rejected, shot down and utterly destroyed and bring life back to it. He is the God, who makes sense of all the naturally known things to everyone else. Although, I may battle the desire, need, want of someone real, tangible that can physically wrap their arms around me, and text me how proud I make them or how loved I am by them- Yes I still crave that even though I am an awkward hugger. But this life, it will pass away. The ones I want to call mom, dad, or whatever they will pass and then what? They will pass as does stuff. One thing will remain- God. The same God, who breathed life into the lungs of Adam, who made Abe a great nation, or who plucked Moses out of the Israelites for a purpose. This is the God of my heart. The God, who my heart finds strength in, comfort and life. The God, who doesn’t make mistakes. I can rest in, be loved by, and feel safe in the almighty arms of the One who has always loved me.

Hosea 2:14 ” Therefore I am going to allure her; I will lead her into the wilderness and speak tenderly to her”

Mourning- the process of facing the reality of expectations. Sometimes mourning isn’t about a physical death of someone. Sometimes its about the loss of what never was. I had to mourn the physical loss of Cameron as well as the what never would be. With my mom I have had to mourn the reality she isn’t capable of being what I want, desire or need. I also, had to mourn the reality that no one will ever be it. Even though, it would take nothing but a millisecond for me to pick someone to fill that void inside me. The reality truly is I have already done that. I had picked.

A therapist once said- my fear. Yes I am afraid of therapists. I am afraid of them because they want to talk about vulnerability and emotions. I can write about them but I don’t enjoy at any level talking about emotions.

Anyway, I had one tell me once how I sought out the need I desired. I had as many father figures as I had moms. And they all uniquely served a purpose in my life. Some were there just for a short period, others bounced in and out, while others had this more constant line in my life. Each served an amazingly unique purpose for me. Each shaped me as a woman after God’s own heart. I watched them raise their kids, love their husbands, and live life daily. I watched a few of them go deep into the trenches of life. What do I mean? I watched them hit bottom, some lost a husband, others lost a child, while others fought for their marriage. And while I looked on from a distance, sometimes as a youth other times a bit older- I was amazed. They didn’t throw a tantrum, they didn’t yell and scream. They didn’t throw things. They didn’t curse at the world. These women, were strong! They hurt, it was obvious, but they held tighter, prayed harder, while their faith was being tested. I often stood in awe of how they remained faithful to God. I respected them. Sometimes they annoyed me- I mean their words of wisdom was sometimes hard for me to hear and listen to. Something I seemed to have been gifted with was the ability to hear, and file it a way. And I did file it a way for a rainy day- and I had my storms coming. Just as I sat at a funeral for one of those families as they experienced a tragic loss, I too would one day sit where they sat-broken. Just as I watched multiple couples fight for their marriage. I too, would one day have to give up my control of my marriage and give it to God- to heal and bring about His purpose. Just as I watched them parent their kids and want to give up, I too would have to wrestle with parenting and want to give up. Their remarkable faith in a God, who heals the brokenhearted, takes the least and makes them strong, and leads us all when we relinquish our control. I can stand in awe of the simply amazing, faithful, and strong women God threw in my path- even if it cost me a little scolding, discipline, and refining. It cost them a few more eye rolls, and  a little more sass- all from me.

Mother.

I wanted a mother- I wanted to believe the relationship would change into what I pictured, but a day was coming where I had to let go of my expectations of a mother. I was going to have to mourn her and mourn the fact that I would never be like other girls. I mean those moms who have filtered and formed me, they love me. They are proud of me- at least I think they are, but they are women with their own families to love and nurture and me- well I am just not theirs and never will, my jigsaw piece will never fit into their families. I am not normal. I have trouble reaching out. I have trouble saying I love you. I have trouble feeling connected to them, the way normal people do. I didn’t grow up with them filling me in that close intimate way a mother loves her child. Even though, I walked beside those families, I was always walking on the outside. And on the outside you walk along hoping to one day belong to which you can’t.

I would have and did have the occasional moments where I was treated like I was their kid. I had a woman once when I was in high school- I guess scold me you might say, but I didn’t think much of it, but she apologized to me. And I have never forgotten her words. “I am sorry, sometimes I forget your not my daughter. And I sometimes say things that I would say to my own” Those words were powerful. Why? They are powerful because I needed to be scolded, and because she did it and claimed me even for a few minutes as her daughter- I felt a belonging.

Process.

I had to process through how to love my mom for being a human that God loves. I had to process through forgiving her. I had to mourn her. I had to let her go. And for me at this time it has been to let her go and put the her to rest for my heart to find peace.

Forgiving, when the wound is still open. Forgiving and when the wound is beginning the process of closing.

I had to go before God. I had to go to my knees. I had to sit at the feet of Jesus. I had to sit there in solitude. I had to sit there and let the tears slide, fight the vulnerability within me, and process all that what was, all of what is, and all of what can never be. I had to pray for her. I had to forgive her. I had to mourn the loss of her. I had to mourn the loss of never belonging to a family.

To be continued…

Hosea 2:14 ” Therefore I am going to allure her; I will lead her into the wilderness and speak tenderly to her”

What ifs. If only.  I do think this way far too often. I can get caught up in these two ideas. I can carry them in my heart, and when I allow them to take root inside of me they begin to shape my heart. And while they are shaping my heart I begin down a path of questioning God’s goodness for me. I am convinced so much of our faith is based on this one foundational piece: Is God good?

I can live in my own claustrophobic kingdom of self, instead of believing God is good and being satisfied, thirst quenched within the magnificent kingdom of God. But that SIN, it’s constantly on the prowl. It wants to steal the joy, the contentment, it wants me to write the rules, pave the paths, lead the charge. It wants me to think that what it offers is more pleasurable, more inviting, and more comfortable. It wants me to believe a good God, wouldn’t have left me the edge of despair, on the cliff of no return, or in the wilderness of wandering, sorting out life.

If only, I had an earthly father, whom I would have known and been treasured by, loved by, accepted by. A father, who would have embraced me, and tailored my independence in a manner in which would have left me knowing above all else, that he loves me. If only, I would have not had the dream of my life ripped away- playing soccer in college. Which has left me with no college education, and the inability to get a satisfying job that would give me purpose. If only, when our family began, my heart wouldn’t have been shattered and stepped on and scattered at the death of the most miraculous part- giving life to another. The scattered shivers of that day, are permanently sitting just beneath the surface of my exterior. I can think of so many what-ifs with his short yet miraculous life. If only, I had a mom. A mom who loved me unconditionally. If only, my saint of a husband, wouldn’t have had to endure the roller coaster of my being. Nearly, 20 years together, the man has walked along side me, sometimes behind me because the volcano inside of me would be brewing and his perfect upbringing couldn’t always comprehend what I had walked through and how I had carried it through all these years. If only I could be normal. If only.

What if, I had that degree. It would make others proud of me. What if I had a father. I didn’t have a real one, like the others- I had many, but none I could call me own. None that I could really take myself to broken and wounded. What if I had 4 kids, but I did have 4.   I just have 1 that I don’t always mention because I am afraid of what the world will say. What if I was emotionally stable. Stable enough to have withstand better the trials of life. What if I had that mom, who fought for me, wanted me and was proud of me- I had many but again none my own.

It’s a battle. A constant fight raging, brewing inside of me. The battle of a good, good God and a deceptive, seductive enemy that wants to torment my insides.

Romans 8:28 “For all things work for the GOOD of those, who love him and are called according to his purposes.”

Colossians 3:2 “set your minds on things above, not on earthly things”

1 Timothy 6:17 “Command those who are rich in this present world not be arrogant nor to put their hope in wealth, which is uncertain, but to put our hope in God, who richly provides us with everything for our enjoyment”

So when those days come and they do, where the weakened part of me sinks, below the surface drowning in the waters that have surrounded me all my life. Or  I have reached the point where I am suffocating in that claustrophobic kingdom of self, all I have to do is  look up, speak up, and reach out to the One, who is good. The One who, has walked before me, for all those what ifs, and if only’s to disappear from within me. The One who is always refining me, freeing me, rescuing that little girl. That girl who is always clinging to the word. I have been asked how I know so much memorized scriptures… Well, it’s a blessing and a curse. But when I reflect on my life, the light shines brightly. It was known since the beginning that I would need those words to flood, circulate, penetrate deeply, and constantly drown me in order to keep drawing me into the presence of Him. A curse because somedays, I don’t want to listen- you know you have all been there too! Blessed. Blessed by the word of God and His persistent pursuit of me. Blessed by His chasing after me. Blessed that even though I have faced the giants in my life, He is always providing, filling and redirecting me. He is creating in me a sturdy HOPE for a God that is oh so good to me.

“I, even I am he who blots out your transgressions, for my own sake and remembers your sins no more.” Isaiah 43:25

“You, however are not in the realm of the flesh, but in the realm of the Spirit, if indeed the the Spirit of God lives in you. And anyone who does not have the Spirit of Christ, they do not belong to Christ.” Romans 8:9

“…and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters” Genesis 1:2

This past week these verses along with Acts 3-4, have been intertwined into me. And it is simply amazing how God can connect, reiterate, to bring about His purpose.

First, think about blot. This is a picture of forgiveness. We write messages down on a piece of paper in pencil, we make a mistake, we erase it. Have you ever noticed how you can still see the residue of what you erased? The words written good, bad or whatever are still faintly evident. We forgive, but the residue still remains and it is within this residue that Satan takes root and all too often we allow him access. Satan brightens those fainted words, brings it back to life- slowly. It happens so slow, that we lose sight that our one thing we are trying to leave at the Jesus’ feet is back in our lap, weighing us down.

Blotted out: Centuries ago, they used different forms of paper and pens- I don’t know what, but it was different. When they made a mistake, they blotted it out- a perfect picture for us. When they blotted it out, it was gone. All you could see is a blot. Blot is a dark spot, no residue to allow Satan to take root within us.

Acts 3:

Lame man= a picture of us. So many times, we look at this story and see a lame man from birth and see he was healed. Dig deeper. This lame man what did he want? He wanted money. We all want something: more money, a better house, skinnier bodies, perfect younger skin, I don’t know whatever it might be for each person. Ask yourself what is it that you crave or want? Its not that God doesn’t care about those things, but He wants to give you something better. God wants to bless us all with something far greater, but we get fixated on this one thing that consumes us, or distracts us. We go to God in prayer telling Him what we need, or how this plan should unfold, other times we give God the added solution. Instead of coming before Him with adoration, love, a desire for Him. How often do we miss out on the gift because we have our eyes fixed on the wrong things. Yet, still we have to go through the wilderness for God to bring us to a place of recognizing and receiving the gift. We go to the wilderness to be humbled and to know what’s in our heart. And when we come out of the wilderness we can attest to God’s faithfulness.

The Lame man, he wasn’t just suddenly lame, he had been lame since birth-40 years. He had endured this long wilderness of being unable to walk. He sat at the temple gates, a gate Jesus had walked by during His ministry, yet he didn’t heal him. Think about that. There is a plan and purpose for our wilderness. There is an unseen reason for the timing of the unfolding of the events on ours lives. Yet, that wasn’t his only need. How often, we look at other people and what we see is not who they are, or what they need isn’t obvious. The lame man asked for money. The lame man wanted money. The lame man wasn’t given money. The lame man was given an unexpected gift, but not just physical healing but spiritual healing. He sat at the gate lame, parched, and hungry. The lame man left that gate, healed, and full, with a seat at the table of God.

Every morning, I wake up, and I look in the mirror at a reflection of myself. A reflection of myself, that I often struggle to like to look at. And it’s not even for the surface stuff, of I am getting old, wrinkles, or whatever. It’s the part that no one can see, no one knows about. When I look in the mirror I can see the internal turmoil that I have to fight to keep locked down. Its the stories deep inside that define me and need healing. Like the lame man, who needed more than physical healing, he needed spiritual healing. I still need healing.

A year or so ago, I was not asked, but instructed to burn letters that contained words written to me that were hurtful. I had held onto them for 20+ years. Interestingly, it had been suggested to me previously to burn them, but I didn’t. Granted, I have read those letters so many times the words are memorized, tattooed, in my head. But, burning those letters, those words was like blotting them out of existence. Satan, can no longer sway me to the physical box, where I open it and read the words written to me, that would utterly crush the insides of my being. Those words would crush me down, it became this part of me very few ever saw, or even knew the deep seated struggle I faced when I looked in that mirror. Even when I was burning them, I thought the couple telling me, more like forcing me to do it, were crazy. I was convinced it was not going to make any difference in me because I can recite the words.  Although, I don’t like to admit it, they were right. Those words are now blotted out. They are gone. I can no longer go to that place. And while this is a place I need healing, its not obvious to the person next to me. Everyday, we see people and their pain, their need, its not obvious, but it doesn’t mean that they don’t need Jesus. It doesn’t mean that they don’t need you to speak boldly into their lives. I, couldn’t be, wouldn’t be where I am today if it weren’t for the people who have spoken boldly into the extremely stubborn, difficult and impossible girl that I am. And I know that God used them to speak life into me.

Jesus came. Jesus walked. Jesus said “I am THE way” He didn’t say I am “A” way. He came to blot out our sins. And because He came He lives, the story continues on, we crossed over from the realm of the flesh into the realm of the Spirit. Once the Holy Spirit was hovering over the waters, it is now hovering over inside of you. Grab on. Hold tight. So much more is in store.

 

 

 

Dear me,

I wonder did you ever think this is where you would end up at this time in your life. Always, looking back in the rear view mirror, seeing how much closer your past keeps gaining on you. Or maybe this time your looking back to see how far away it is from you. You can get engrossed in the past, so much that you begin to not like who you are. Even if you don’t like yourself, God still does. And He doesn’t just like you, He loves you.

You will always be that girl who takes the longest possible pathway to the destination that is nearly a straight path in front of you. You will always be impossible, strong-willed, determined, stubborn, direct, and driven. Faith and perseverance, it is what defines who you were, who you are and who you will become because when you were being formed in that secret place, woven in the depths of the Earth. God saw. God knew your unformed body. God knew your disposition, He knew your battles, He knew how you would wrestle with Him, even though you hate wrestling. God knew. He knows the hairs on your head, and which ones get out of place, even if you don’t care. He knows when you try to hide from Him and from the world because He knows your in hiding, He will find you. God is searching for you even when you are not looking for Him. God reaches down and places His hand on you oh, so gently. He reaches down. Tower of Babel tried to build a ladder to God, but they had it wrong. We don’t reach to God. God reaches to us. He captures us. He swoops in taking us from the wilderness to find rest.

Little one, you may look at life as if you can’t escape the past that it is always creeping behind you. That what was, is what is. Remember Jesus sits with the sinners. Jesus eats with the needy. Jesus seeks. Jesus is watching every time you take the longest detour to climb the mountain. Jesus is drying every tear that streams down your face every time you fall to your knees because of a missed step. Jesus is cradling that scarred heart, mending each chipped piece of it. He is that constant that is leading you from the darkness into the light. It is He who is healing the unseen need that the world can’t see. While the world looks on at you from a distance- gathering their opinions and drawing their conclusions about you… you will keep moving forward. You will keep asking God to undo you. To refine you. You will pass the bridge of death. The bridge of death, that contains fear, uncertainty and confusion. You will come out from it no longer asking God to remove this thorn, or fix the thorn, but to change you. Change your perspective. Refine you and undo you. You will keep seeking the depths of the Father’s love for you. And you will seek that until you have taken your last breath in this worldly place. One day you will discover that only God can fill it. And as hard as it is for those words to march across your heart- it is the key to you finding a lasting peace. But know that as long as you keep breathing, and your faith keeps growing in God, those Earthly Father’s will be even more proud of you because you are walking in the way of the Lord. You are finding your security in something far greater.

Psalm 139:1-18

“You have searched me, Lord and you know me. You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar. You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways. Before a word is on my tongue, you, Lord know it completely. You hem me in behind and before, and you lay your hand upon me. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me attain. Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? If I go up to the Heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there. If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there you hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast. If I say surely the darkness will hide me and the light becomes night around me even the darkness will not be to dark for you; the night will shine like the day, for the darkness is as light to you. For you created my inmost being, you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Your works are wonderful. I know that full well. My frame was not hidden from you. when I was made in the secret place, when I was woven together in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days of my life ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be. How precious to me are your thoughts, God. How vast is the sum of them! Were I to count them, they would outnumber the grains of the sand when I awake, I am still with you. “

Jeremiah 31:3

” I have loved you with an everlasting LOVE.  I have drawn you with unfailing kindness” ~NIV

“Israel out looking for a place of rest, met God out looking for them! God told them I’ve never quit LOVING you and never will. Expect LOVE, LOVE and more LOVE”

~The Message

 (insert your name), out looking for a place to rest, met God looking for her! God told her I have LOVED you with an everlasting LOVE. I have never quit LOVING you and never will. Expect LOVE, LOVE always and more LOVE.

~Personalized version. 

Isaiah 49:16 “you are engraved on the palm of my hands” NIV

Engraved on the palm of His hands just as the names of the tribes of Israel were engraved on the stone and fastened to the Ephod of the high priest as memorial before the Lord in the tabernacle. My name is engraved on the palm of God’s hands!

I am not just a random face amongst the millions that live on Earth. I am not left here battling, fighting my way through this world full of dragons that need to be slayed. God has not forgotten me, left me alone because I have messed up so much this time, that I am unforgivable. I am not just a number to God. I am His. I am on His palm. He knows me inside and out. He knows how many hairs are only head. He knows the thoughts in my mind, that I can’t verbalize or express. He knows the broken pieces of my shattered heart. He knows the gaping wounds that I keep searching for someone to fill. He knows the baggage I carry on my back and how tired I am becoming trying to be everything for everyone. Or how I put a smile on my face and pretend that this baggage isn’t weighing me down. He knows how far I have traveled with this baggage. He knows every piece of the maze  I have walked. It’s Him, who brings me back to His word. The Word He wrote for me. The Word, where He whispers in my ear constantly “I AM LOVE” It’s not just that He LOVES me, but He is LOVE. Can you grasp this concept? Can I? Today, when life is great we all can say- “Yes God is LOVE” But when the day falls and it will fall, when we are filled with sorrow, our hearts will ache, our souls will be dry- what then? When we are at our worst, will we still say God is good, God is LOVE. God is faithful.

John 13:23 “One of them, the disciple, whom Jesus LOVED, was reclining next to Him” (NIV) I am God’s beloved. He has come to wrap His arms around me. He has come to wrap me in LOVE. I am held, carried, wrapped, wanted, cherished, LOVED, by the One, who is LOVE.  What does all of this mean? It means, I am reclining with the Almighty- I am not alone. I will never be alone.

Romans 8:28 “For all things work for the good of those who LOVE him and are called according His purpose.” There is that word again- LOVE. To define this, first we must believe God is good and know God is LOVE.

Do you think that God’s goodness is measured by suffering in your life? So, when you are suffering then God isn’t good? Do you measure God’s love by how difficult life has become? God must not LOVE me enough because life is hard. God’s faithfulness: by each and every disappointment, questioning then God’s faithfulness to us. Is it hard as we watch life unfold before us and when we look at someone else’s life seeming so much smoother than our own? We see their life and think, it’s been so smooth, and free of pain- why can’t my life be that way?  Why do I have to endure these hardships? Or what happens when you start back down a road, a road you have seen before and fear starts to ignite in us because those messages start flying back into our heads. Those messages are like an internal explosion with a recorder just replaying them over and over again. And when you find yourself entwined in it, you lose sight of the truth. We all do it. Well, I do. I lose sight of God and listen to a loud megaphone recording in my head. The messages are all similar in some way. Some are from mean words spoken to me, some of them are drawn conclusions from the words spoken to me and some are just implanted messages that I struggle to escape from.  These messages have become so imbedded into my mind, that I have to be constantly on guard of my mind. I can’t lose sight of God because when I do the megaphone starts blasting. God is the still small voice in my head. God is LOVE.  God is Faithful. God is Good.

Suffering, unexpected tragedy, these moments do not mean He has forgotten you, or that He is unfaithful to you, or that you are just a number to God. Suffering is never for nothing. Suffering is placed to rescue, transform and deliver us. Our God is LOVE and He Values holiness above temporary happiness. He wants eternal joy.  He wants us because when you get warped into this vicious cycle, you need only cry out. ‘Daddy, Daddy, can you hear me” “Abba Father” Recline with the Almighty, Crawl into the lap of your Savior, allow Him to wrap His arms around you to embrace you. I can’t go into this place with arms crossed. I mean, I can, but I wouldn’t suggest it. I wish I had a sense of what a father’s arms of rescue, safety, security felt like to help me within this process… for me all I have is the embrace of the men God has blessed me with who have embraced me. I know that need to feel something tangible. Something that can be etched into your mind and heart. And while I can imagine what it’s like to run to a father, crawl into their lap and be embraced and feel the LOVE from their heart transfer to me, I have no memory of any sort of embrace. So, what do I do? I fall to my knees, lay face down on my floor and pray. Somedays, I fall to my knees, lay face down and wrap this soft grey blanket around me to imitate what that wrapped embrace of LOVE can feel like. I have to imagine. I have to lay. I have to pray. I have to recite God’s word.

“The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing. He makes me lay down in green pastures. He leads me besides quiet waters. He restores my soul. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death. I will fear no evil , for He is with me. The rod and staff they comfort me. He prepares a table before me in the presence of my enemies. you anoint my head with oil, my cup overflows. Surely your goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever” Psalm 23

“I have loved you with an everlasting love“

I have fought my whole life and I have fought hard. It’s not that I can’t be LOVED or that I can’t accept LOVE. It’s that- well, all I have is excuses. I learned no one person was in my court, on my side, or had my back. And because this was the message I learned, I put up walls, and I think it might take more than marching around my heart for those walls to come crumbling down. And some seasons in my life the top layer will start crumbling down, meanwhile I am building it back up. So this LOVE thing, it’s real, it’s hard, it’s tough for me. One second, I could crave a hug, and then the moment comes and I am like “Yeah, No I am good” I am sure there are those people out there, that know me and are nodding their heads in agreement. I think their are a few confident people, who are waiting for the walls around my heart to come crumbling down. One dad like character texted me once and said “I’m sure you will crack open at some point and I will be there for you with a big hug and hold you for as long as you need” but just when he thinks it will happen- nope there I am building it back up. Me crack open? God has a lot of work to do in me.

LOVE…LOVE… God. The God who sees me. Genesis 16:13 ” You are the God , who sees me” Sometimes God has to take us into the wilderness. Each of our wildernesses are different. But it is here in the wilderness that God can get us alone, quiet our hearts, grab our attention, and shift our thinking. He wants to LOVE us. He wants to work in me. He will have His hands full, just saying. But there is nothing more I want than to be refined by my Father. To be refined by the God who sees me. So perhaps I will crack open at some point.

LOVE.LOVE God. I am engraved in His palm, even when I am at my worst. He is faithful to me, even when I am not faithful to Him. He is good to me, even when I am not good to Him. He comes looking for me, when I am trying to hide from Him. I am His beloved, even when I am choosing to sit in a recliner, arms folded, and pouting. He works things out for my good because He LOVES me despite my brokenness. What a God I serve! Why do I ever doubt Him. Why do I ever question His goodness. God is good. God is faithful. God is Love.

 

What’s in a number? I was born on the 13th. So in turn, I took 13 as my number. Many find it an unlucky number, but I find it helps to define my personality. It defines that I am competitive, driven, never satisfied,  and that I may have the occasional outburst of directness. These character traits are what sustained me in life and athletics. But these traits are also what can cause me great agony when the pressures of life come to my max and the passions within me come exploding out and the filter of control I once had is unavailable. 13, how I love this number. How I love that it can define me and represent me.

My daughter chose to take my number. Perhaps most importantly because it was my number. I mean, 13 has represented me well. I was born on that day, I was married on that day, and with all the stigma that comes with 13, I am happy to embrace that it has served me well. It has served her well so far. It did take her some time to mold into all that it represents, but now when I watch her play soccer, volleyball, basketball, or run cross country I get to see firsthand the driven, aggressive, and competitor inside of her.

Today is May 31st. And as this day has been approaching me, it suddenly occurred to me that 31, is 13 backwards. It has taken me 16 years to discover the simplicity of those digits turned around. The number that has been such a part of me, made me proud to represent it, when flipped caused me the hardest day of my life.

16 years have passed and it just doesn’t seem possible. I have let 16 years pass away too quickly. Although, I am convinced that today, God is sending me on a journey of change. A journey to re represent what this day has meant to me for the last 16 years. Although this chapter will never be complete until I have passed from this world, it can take a new path. It can move me from a day of sadness to a day of new beginnings. Today, I close on a house in Michigan and close on a house in Tennessee. And what so many would not know, is that a high school trip with friends to Gatlinburg, TN my senior year of High school placed on my heart a love for the smokey mountains. After that trip I was asked to plan out a timeline of my life, from beginning to the future. And on this timeline I put I wanted to live in Tennessee. I didn’t remember it until I cam across it just a few years ago. New beginnings. God’s message of taking a tragic day in my young marriage and transitioning it to be looked at differently.

16 years ago, God gave me this child. It has taken me 16 years to have the courage, strength to put the finality of his life to rest. Some could judge me and I am sure they will because I didn’t mark his grave sooner. There truly is a multitude of reasons of why we didn’t. But the fact is we didn’t. Some ask, did I ever visit him? Yes, I did more often than I would care to admit to. What did I visit? My response is : What does anyone visit? I visited the spot where we had his graveside service. I visited the section in which he lay, I sat on the bricks in the baby section, where multiple little babies have been laid to rest. I sat and imagined what life would have been like with him. I sat and reflected on the day he was born and died. Why? It was so brief I didn’t want to forget a moment of it. I didn’t want a moment to leave my heart. I wanted to remember how he looked, felt, how I watched him so intensely as he left this world in my arms. And what I wouldn’t give to have that moment again. I don’t want to relive it to feel the pain, but to be connected to the moment that shifted me.

But, after 16 years and the anticipation of new beginnings, we have found strength in God, and the courage and love to mark sweet Cameron’s grave. And I have to say there is a part if me that is glad we waited because it has allowed us the chance to make his marker a complete family moment.

His grave will be marked and this day will now be marked by not only the day that changed our lives forever, but as a day of a new adventure. A new beginning. Instead feeling the pain of a life lost, we can see just that a new life. A new chapter. It won’t make  anything easier, but it will represent something different for us.

“Cameron Charles Cox”

“We’ll hold you in our hearts, until we can hold you in Heaven” Mom, Dad, Jonah, Peighton & Ellery

 

 

My jar

In this jar is everything about me. The things that I hold onto, the things that define me, the things that hold me back, and the things that I can’t let go of. I have these things, these messages in a mason jar full of me. Some of the things listed are my regrets, my misfortunes, or missed opportunities. Some are the places in which I lack forgiveness for another. While still others are the very things that hold me back from being me, or hold me back from being free. I keep it secure and safe inside of this jar because its too much to release, but the time has come… come for me to let go. For me to be broken before you God. Broken and poured out like oil. Read that again poured out like oil on your feet. Pouring out our devotion to Him broken and in a place of vulnerability. A place that only God can use us. Jesus chose to be broken for me. Jesus chose to be broken so that I can be free. Free from this jar. Matthew 26 tells of an account of a woman with her expensive alabaster jar of  perfume, which she used to pour out on to Jesus. She took the one thing she had and simply poured it out onto Him. She was accused of being indignant, but to Jesus it was something beautiful. She was a broken woman, willing to pour out all that she had for Jesus. And this is us. This is what we should be. This is what Jesus wants. He wants us to come to him just as we are. Broken, but willing to be poured out for Him. In order for me to be poured out for Jesus, I have to let go of my jar. I have to go to the deep place of my soul, where nobody goes and pour out my jar to Jesus. And its hard. I have held onto this jar for far too long. It’s almost like I play tug o war with my jar and with Jesus. “Yes, you can have it, no you can’t have it. ” I have to get real. I have to get raw. I have to go where I don’t want to go. I have to go deep, get vulnerable and let me soul find rest in the Father’s arms. And I have to accept that when I let it go and pour my broken self out at Jesus’ feet, He will heal the shattered particles of my insides. He will take this ordinary, broken, and thought as unusable girl to make something out of the ashes of my life.

My ashes

My ashes. God can use my ashes. God can take the ashes of my failures and turn them into something beautiful. These are the ashes of my past. This jar also holds the ashes of letters written to me that were filled with hurtful words to me from someone who was suppose to love me. The letters crushed my spirit, I regretfully memorized the words. I held onto these hurtful letters for 20 years. I couldn’t bring myself to burn them, although told a few times that I should. But I finally did. I finally burned those letters, but I didn’t give it God. These are the ashes of my jar. Ashes for the words written. I kept the ashes of me because they sit in a place that I pass everyday.  I sometimes sit and stare at them, mesmerized that I finally created ashes from the pieces of paper that I allowed to define me. I have kept these ashes to remind me that I am free from the bondage of those words. One day, I sat in the presence of the Father and released the pain. This is the bondage that has held me captive for far too long. It’s within this bondage that I entertained Satan daily, with his constant reminders of the memorized words in my head. I was trapped. I was locked up, unable to free myself. I couldn’t believe the words of another person, who would try to encourage me of my value, or how God saw me. I had lost my gaze on the One who had brought me through life. Lost my focus on the One who is the Father I needed, the Savior my heart sought, and the  lover of my soul. I got catapulted into a vicious cycle of drowning within my self doubt and relying on myself. I listened to the lies, and the lies consumed me. Within those lies, I tried to justify its truth based on my brokenness. Within those lies, the ones who loved me kept after me, fighting to change the stubborn mind of my thinking. I was all but lost until the day. The day, I sat on the shore of the beach ready for God to take me from this life. Ready to give in and give up. I hit a breaking point with God. I hit a point, where my life was meaningless. I had flashes of conversations on the shore with God, Him reminding me of the small break throughs of the years past. I laid my body on the sand and I encountered God. An encounter I can never fully put into words to describe the moment, but it was my burning bush moment, my well moment, my moment with the Almighty God who reached down and plucked me from the deep waters that was ready to consume me and said “not yet, I am not finished with you” There are very few times in my life that I can say I have felt that hand of God upon me, but this was one of them.

God will turn my ashes into something beautiful. I may not know how, when, or to what extent, but I know that I am loved, wanted and valued by a Father, who always has my best interest in mind. A Father who will take me as I am shattered, distraught, and on the edge of a break down in order for me to stand firm on the rock foundation of my faith. The foundation of my faith that cannot be shaken. God chose me. God delights in me.

Isaiah 61:3  “He will bestow on them a crown of beauty instead ashes, the oil of joy, instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair.”

 

 

The well: it’s the place you sit on the steps of your soul, in the deep place that nobody goes. It’s the place you sit and talk to God on your knees before Him. You kneel before God, laying down everything you have and allow God to fill every part of you.

Moses had a moment at the well. Some refer to it as his burning bush moment, but it’s also his well moment. Moses tells God “who am I that I should go, (I am a murder)” Paraphrased. But isn’t that us? Don’t we tell God we can’t do something because this “thing” has defined us? When Moses asks who shall I say sent me , if they ask? God says “I AM” The I AM translates to be this: I will be all that you need me to be when you need me to be all that you need.

Isn’t that God? Jesus when he looked out and saw the storm coming and the disciples struggling… couldn’t Jesus have just spoken and calmed the storm with just a gesture, or His voice? Did he really have to walk over to them, which was seeing Jesus walk on water! Which by the way was amazing! But why did Jesus walk over to them instead of speaking? Jesus isn’t just interested in fixing all the thorns that sting, rip or infect us. Jesus is working to meet us at the well on the steps of your soul, where nobody goes to sit and speak to you, in order that you change the way you think of yourself and your life. And isn’t that the base of it all? We avoid going to the well. We avoid it because, its at the well that tears may flow freely, and the stream of all the definitions of who we are sits. It’s at our well that we see our thorns.

Three times Paul asked God to take this thorn from him. And each time God said no, my grace is sufficient. The unremovable thorn is what keeps us running to the Father. And my unremovable thorns is what creates in me a spiritual intimacy because I am running a race back to the Father every time the thorn tries to define me. God loves me too much to remove my thorns at anytime but the right time. And trust me waiting for God’s timing, processing through, or standing firm on God’s foundation through the process is at times unbearable. The process is sticky, uncomfortable, and sometimes gut wrenchingly painful, BUT it’s the exact preparation I need to handle the blessing God has for me.

So when the day awakens me and I look at myself in the mirror and I see the thorns in me, which by the way could make me look like a porcupine because its a lot of thorns. I have to stop and say “God wants me transformed, not paralyzed in fear. God doesn’t want me to shrink into the enemies hands, but rather rise my heart and mind to God” I have to say I am enough, God is my supply, He is who fills me. I have to fall before God. I have to meet Him at the well. I have to treasure the blessings he has bestowed upon me. Because when I focus my life on my loss, my thorns, it will isolate my heart and in that isolation is when Satan creeps into me. And somedays, the feelings of feeling like an orphan child, the loss of Cameron, the abuse, the rape, the things that beat at the door of my heart can truly beat me down. I can look at those definitions of me, and forget how God sees me. Despite my misspoken words far too often, my jealousy at times, my insecurities, or my broken pieced heart- the God of the universe chose me. He chose to use me and place me here. He chose not to with His voice speak and fix my thorns, but rather come to me grab my hand and take me on an adventure. He came to walk me to the well to meet Him. And I can be like Moses, and say I can’t because I am not good enough, I am not ready, I am not a good enough Christian, I am not perfect enough, or I am too broken, Lord, use another broken person, more perfect than me. Yet, God isn’t expecting perfection from me. He just wants me to consistently, be surrendered to His will. The well is my place. The well is where I meet God. The well is where God fills my brokenness and it’s where I lay my will down before Him. It’s a place where God restores Himself to me. And it is the place where I can sit and know it is well with my soul. Even though, my thorns may  try to distract me, His grace is sufficient for me.

God… are you there? Do you ever ask yourself that same question? Maybe you don’t because your so wrapped up in the fast paced world in which each of us lives. And yet, we do ask God where he is, but then we only give Him 5 seconds to respond. When all we hear is His silence, we whisk away to the next thing and leave God hanging on the doorsteps of our hearts. We want the God of this day an age, this century. Yet, scripture tells us He is same yesterday, today and forever. We look around and we see that the world in which the disciples lived and walked is not the same as today. Or furthermore the world in which Moses, King David, or the many prophets lived is so different than today. The reality is that their fast paced world is just different than our version of fast paced world. We the creation made by God and for God are the ones that have changed over the years. God has remained the constant. He has remained in the same spot, waiting to be invited into our little kingdoms.

Where do we go to find God? We can find God anywhere and everywhere. He is at work in our lives in every moment. We wrestle with God daily. We deny that we wrestle with Him, but we do wrestle with Him. I find God when I go to the well. When I sit still long enough to be brought to a place where my thirst is quenched and the wrestling can end. These two parallels: Going to the well and wrestling with God. I don’t think its a coincidence that Jacob’s well is the place in which Jesus met the Samaritan woman and taught her about the living water. Jesus didn’t just offer her living water, he called her into repentance, he called her out on her sin. She also wrestled with Jesus right there at the well. It’s at the well that God meets us and reveals to us our sin, just as He did to the Samaritan woman, and just as he did with Jacob. The Samaritan woman wrestled with God about her sin, and tried to divert Jesus away from that topic. Don’t we many times try to divert God form our sins. Don’t we fight going to the well to meet Jesus because its at the well that we come to grips with ourselves.

Our sin doesn’t just separate us from God, it slivers a divide between us that grows in its darkness and the longer it sits in the darkness the more we begin to believe its not a sin, or the more we begin to rationalize it, and defend it. And this is the place the enemy wants us. The enemy wants to isolate us because when he isolates us, he can do the most damage to us. But if we bring ourselves to the well, to the place where we fall on our knees before the Most High God and surrender our will, our desires, and face our sin we will find healing. We will wrestle with God here. We will wrestle. Proverbs 28:13 says “whoever conceals their sins does not prosper but the one who confesses and renounces them finds mercy”  Somedays, when we are the well meeting with Jesus, we are again wrestling with him… we are wrestling with Him because what we have handed over to be forgiven we have taken back. Have you ever done that? Have you ever asked to be forgiven yet still harbor the resentment for your actions. God has forgiven you, yet you haven’t forgiven yourself? Galatians 5:1 says “It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery”

So at the well, where we meet Jesus, where we find healing, we also experience restoration. Jesus is always at the doorsteps of our heart waiting for us to invite Him in, waiting for us to meet Him, and waiting for us to open the door. And when we finally fall before Him, the wrestling can end and the peace can begin. You can be free, free indeed. We must stubbornly refuse to go back into the bondage of the past. We must go to the well and meet Jesus. We must go to the well, so that we will never thirst again.