When Seasons Change

When I was younger, my favorite time of year was toward the end of August...you'd just wake up one morning and step outside and you could smell it in the air.   The air was a little crisper...Fall was on the way!   I went to college in Tennessee and there I experienced the changing of the leaves for the first time.  I was absolutely in awe of the brilliant colors.  I would watch the trees with great anticipation.  Waiting for that next season was so exhilarating!

But something has happened as I've aged.  Now, instead of the drop in temperature or the brilliant colors, I rely on my nose to tell me when the season is changing.  Well, to be more specific, my sinuses.   Now, the changing of the season brings on a relentless bout of sneezing and wheezing.  I no longer look at the changing seasons with awe and anticipation...no, that has been replaced with fear and dread.

Just recently, I realized the same phenomenon has taken place in my spiritual life.   The seasons will change...that's God's design...but how I respond to the changing season can make it enjoyable or pure misery.  

Recently, I experienced a season change, perhaps I'm still in it, and this one hit me hard.   It required me and my husband leaving a place and people that we loved very much and moving into uncertain territory.    To say it was a struggle would be an understatement, but the harder we resisted the season change, the more miserable we became.  I would liken it to getting to that first cool morning and insisting that we turn up the heat and remain in a blazing Summer...because I'm afraid of what the new season holds for me.  I suppose you can try that but all you end up with is a ridiculous utility bill and a very gro
uchy household.   You can't stop the season from changing.   You can only decide how you will adapt...embracing the new season is a much better choice.

I wasn't always resistant to change in my spiritual life.   In fact, I welcomed it throughout most of my life.   I'd like to think I embraced it.   It was exciting and fresh!   But something happened inside me when Jeff died.    The following morning after he passed, a dear friend talked to me about something he felt God wanted him to tell me.   He wanted this friend to tell me that a new season was coming for me.   Gone was the season of being a pastor's wife.   Gone was the season of being in full time ministry.  But take heart...a new season is coming and it will be wonderful.   And I believe that for the first time in my life, fear crept in and no matter how hard I tried, the new season did not appeal to me.  I was fearful of what the new season would look like.  How would I know what to do?   Would I even like the new season?   Would I get lost and lose my way?   What if it wasn't as wonderful as he said it would be?   And what was wrong with the old season...why couldn't I just stay there, in the season I was comfortable in?

As much as I inwardly feared the new season, I couldn't stop it.   It was coming.  So I put on my tough face.   My fake it till you make it face.   I gave myself a pep talk and told myself that I could do this.   And I did, for a while.   Then Mike and I married and I was like, "Oh, this must be the wonderful new season he was talking about".   Life was good, I was blessed and surely this was it.   Except, when I prayed, I felt that inward nudging...calling me to change, calling me to a new season.   For a long time I said nothing and did nothing.   I hoped it would just go away.   But it didn't.

And then Mike began to feel it, too.    Now we were both warring on the inside...struggling, knowing God was changing our season and all the while we were begging Him to just let us stay in Summer.   And no matter how much we had to sweat, no matter how miserable and thirsty we were...as long as we didn't have to go into a new season, we would be ok.  

Isn't it funny how we let a little thing  like a season change wreck our world.   It's a natural thing for Pete's sake!   Part of God's perfect design for our lives.   Even so, we would rather hold on to what we know, because that is familiar and safe, than to let go and embrace every season.

I don't know a lot about gardening but I do know that the plants need all four seasons.   Without them they don't know when to bloom, when to produce fruit.   I have a lime-quat tree in my backyard.   For four years now, we've pampered that thing.   I talk to it to no avail.  Mike fertilizes it and we always make sure it is covered when the weather turns bitter cold.   It hasn't produced a single lime in four years.   But this year is different.   This year as the season is changing from spring into summer, guess what is happening...little blooms are everywhere on the plant.   My garden friends tell me that wherever I see a bloom, a lime will grow.   If that's the case, I'm going to have a bumper crop.   My lime tree is coming into a new season.   What if I could learn to see a new season in my life with the same excitement that I look at my lime tree with?  If I could just train myself to think about the new fruit that my life will bear rather than look longingly at past seasons...constantly mourning all that is lost.  Those things were good in their season, but if you've ever been around a fruit tree when the fruit has ripened and fallen off the tree...well, that fruit is no longer desirable.   Still something is going on in the tree that is exciting!  

God has been dealing with me on this very thing.   Moving into a new season doesn't mean anything was wrong with the season we were in.   In fact, it really says the opposite.   It says that we are healthy.  A tree that doesn't move to the new season will die...it needs a period of rest after a season of fruit, and before it can bear fruit it must bloom.   Paul speaks in Philippians 3 of forgetting what is behind and looking (or pressing) (or being excited about) what lies ahead.   One version says straining toward...what if I could approach every new season like that?  Think about an apple seed.  Where did it come from?  It comes from the fruit of the apple tree, of course.   But what does it contain?  Well, it contains a tree, and tons of fruit and millions of leaves...all in that tiny seed.   So if the fruit (apple) never drops or dies, then the seed will never be exposed and the lineage will stop right there.   The apple must be opened up to expose that seed for the new season to begin.   Now, just because that apple has been shed, that doesn't mean its over for the tree...no, it's just in a new season, and if it continues to go through the seasons, in due time, it will bear more fruit, more seeds, more trees that will in turn bear more fruit...and on and on it goes.

Some seasons are more intense than others and for those of us who like to know what lies ahead, that can be a scary thing.  But I am learning everyday to trust the Creator.  He knows what season I am supposed to be in.   Resisting His divine plan for my life doesn't keep it from happening, it only makes me miserable when it does.   Likewise, I can't expect that my children will always be in a fruit bearing season.   I need to remember when it appears that they are in a dormant season, that I cannot see what is happening on the inside, but God has a plan and purpose for it.   They are His and the seasons they will go through may not align at all with my seasons.  And no matter how much I enjoyed the past seasons of my life or theirs, I need to remember that what lies ahead is divinely ordained by a God who loves us very much.   He orders our steps and His plans are for our good.

So today, I'm making a new commitment, a conscience effort to strain toward that new season.   No holding back!   Today, I will press on toward the prize!  New season, here I come!

What's in Your Bag?

This has been a week of heartbreak in the community where I live and the community where I grew up.  On Sunday afternoon, a beloved high school baseball coach and his sweet wife were tragically killed while trying to help rebuild the high school's baseball field that had been damaged in a recent hurricane.   My hometown has survived much damage but has been resilient, picking up the pieces and rebuilding their lives.   But they never saw the storm coming that hit them on Sunday afternoon.  It was a curve ball, so to speak, that devastated my alma mater and the surrounding communities.

Sunday afternoon, we were returning from a trip to see our youngest.   This weekend was the 5th anniversary of her father's death and it seemed like a good time to go visit her.   Sunday was beautiful.   Cool, but not too cold.  Sunny.  Blue skies.   A perfect day for a workday...not a perfect day for a storm.   Early in the afternoon, I noticed a missed call from my sister...about the same time, I saw a post from the Sheriff in my hometown...there had been a tragic accident at the baseball field and two were deceased and another injured.

Quickly, I called my sister and she relayed the story.   She first asked me if I knew the Crum's, since they were from the town in which I now live.   I did not know them.  She then told me the story and my heart broke.  Suddenly, even though I didn't know them, I felt tears welling in my eyes.  It's not supposed to be this way.   My heart broke for their children and the family left behind.   My heart broke for their team, who would now have to attempt to process the happenings of this day and grieve the loss of their coach and his wife.   My heart broke for communities...for Liberty and Wakulla counties...but also for the baseball community,  a community that cannot be defined by county lines, but rather is a brotherhood that is tight knit and very much a family.

Sunday night, I couldn't sleep.   I just kept replaying the events (even though I wasn't there) and kept thinking of the ripple effect this day would have.   Monday brought a clearer picture of what had happened, but the feeling that your breath had just been knocked out of you remained.   No one, no matter how well they had been trained, saw this coming.   I prayed for everyone affected.   I asked God to give me words...but none would come.   Just silence.  Until this morning, when I felt like He gave me a picture...and I hope that it helps someone.

This morning God gave me a picture of a bag, one like ball players carry.  You know, the serious ball players.   The ones who have their own bat.   In my younger days, I was not an athlete.   I was a statistician.   I traveled with the team and sat with the team.   I cheered the team on.  But I didn't get on the field.   I carried a bag, too, but what was in my bag was different from what the players carried.   I carried a stat book and lots of pencils...and a good eraser!  Their bags were different from mine...but they were also all different from each other.   Some carried that special bat.   Some had a glove or even a backup glove.   Some balls and some even had their own helmets.   Some even had something in the bag that they thought would bring them luck.   They didn't just go to the store and buy a baseball bag that came equipped with everything they would need for the game.   No, they had to build it...slowly, as they played the game.  They learned the things that they would need to make their game better.  Some items came at the recommendation of a coach.   Some came as a result of envying a fellow teammate.   Some items would come as a gift, and some came by the avenue of hard work.   Each bag was different and each player's game was a little different as well.   Alone, one bag did not have the necessary tools to win the game, nor did one player.   But together, we could get the job done.

The "game" or challenge that our communities are now faced with is grief.   It is a hard game.   On Sunday, it threw a serious curve ball like none of us has ever seen or experienced.  And though we may have suffered an "out", the game isn't over.  How we will play the rest of the game will determine who the winner is.   And how we play the game will be largely determined by what we have in our bag.   Some of us have been playing the game for a long time, and we have things in our bag that not only benefit us, but can benefit the whole team.   Some, although they may not have as much experience, have newer tools...and even though what we have is good, in many ways, what they have is an improvement on what we have in our bags.   My point is this...and I hope I can adequately convey the mental picture that God gave me this morning...we need each other to get through this.   What I've learned about this family in the days since this tragedy, is that Coach Crum and his wife didn't just want to "win" the game.   They wanted to teach boys to be winners...not just on the field, but in life.   They instilled values in these kids that would not just help them beat their weekly opponent...it would help them win.   There is a difference.

Grief is an opponent that doesn't play fair.   It strikes when you least expect it and it is relentless.   It waits until you are at your weakest, and then it goes in for the kill.   But you don't have to let grief win.   Don't get me wrong...I am not saying that you shouldn't grieve this loss.   You absolutely should.   But how will you grieve?   What's in your bag?   Do you have what you need to win this game...and if not, who is around you that can you borrow from.   Who is in the dugout with you who can help you through this game.    Grief will tell you that there is no one...that is a lie.   Don't believe it.   Remember, I said grief doesn't play fair.   Look around you, stay with the "team".   And to the "team" I want to say, be on the lookout for those who may feel like they don't have what they need to get through this.   Share your arsenal with them.   To you, it may not seem like much, but to someone else it may be a lifeline.   A hug.   A kind word.  A text.  A phone call.  A meal.   A yard mowed.   A game attended.   You get the picture.   Alone, we may not be able to heal the hurt...but together, as a team, we can!  

I understand that Coach Crum often told his boys that he wanted them to give it 110%.   To use everything at their disposal to win.   That included their talents, time, energy, knowledge and so much more.   Winning this new game will take giving it your all...and then some.   And when you don't know where the "and then some" will come from, try asking God for it.   You see, when what's in our bag is exhausted...God's bag is just getting started.   He has everything we need to win this game.   And His bag doesn't get old, doesn't exhaust, and is always available.   His bag has hope.   His bag has peace.   His bag has clarity.   His bag has love.   And He is always, always, ALWAYS, willing (and ready) to share what's in His bag.  

The Truth, and Nothing but the Truth

I'll be honest.   I have deliberated over this post more than any other post I've ever written.   You see, I read something recently and it shook me...to the core.   In fact, I had to read it several times, not because I didn't understand it.   Believe me...I understood it!   But I had to read it several times because the truth in it was too difficult to digest in one setting.   It was a truth that required that I take a long, hard look at my life and find myself on knees, repenting before God.

Even as read the above mentioned passage, I could feel God compelling me to write about it.   Again, the inward struggle was real.   I feared that others may read what I would write and think I was calling someone out.   And though it is true that as I read the afore mentioned passage, several faces popped into my mind, if I am completely honest, the most prominent face was my own.   So if you are reading this blog, and you think, even for a moment, "Oh, she is pointing her finger at me", or maybe, "uh-ha, she's trying to call me out"...let me just put your mind at ease.   The only one I am exposing here is myself...my own judgmental, self-seeking self.   But before you start pointing your finger at me and start thinking, "I told ya so"...maybe, just maybe you should ask God, am I guilty of the same offense?   Because, I believe that if we are honest, it is something we all struggle with.

For the past several weeks, I have been doing a Bible study/devotional based on the book Adamant, by Lisa Bevere.   It is a book that has challenged me on many days to look harder at my walk with Christ and to strive to change things that need to be fixed in my life.   But it was this short passage that stood out to me, almost as if someone had taken a bright yellow highlighter and marked it to grab my attention:

"At its core, truth is not a what, but a who, because Jesus said He is the truth.   Jesus also said that God's Word is truth.   The world loves to think of truth as fluctuating and relative, but the truth that is grounded in the person of Jesus and the Word of God never changes.   In a world full of opinions, God's truth leads us to convictions we can build our lives on.
We must be careful to discern the difference between opinions and convictions.   Our world doesn't need the messiness that comes with numerous opinions.   It needs the stability that comes with truth.   Let's not contribute to the noise that distracts and keeps us from looking to Scripture and the Spirit of truth.
Opinions are easy to make and quick to change, but hard to clean up if we've been careless in spreading ours around.   They can become like litter that defiles both others' lives and our own.   We must carefully guard our words to ensure we are part of the solution to the problems we're are anointed to change.
I challenge you to edit your life and edit the words you choose to speak.   Be careful about what you read, listen to, say or post.   Do not air your family issues, or the church's issues, for all the world to see.   Yet, at the same time, don't remain silent about them:  Speak to family about family issues.  If someone isn't involved in the problem or solution, don't unnecessarily involve them.   This only makes the problem bigger rather than solving it."

Everyone has an opinion.   Be honest.   Everyone has an opinion...but is it necessary...and even more importantly, is it beneficial for you to share that opinion?   And while you are answering that question, let me ask this one...who is benefitting from you sharing your opinion?   Honestly, at least 98% of the time, when I share my opinion, I am the one who benefits.   So how then, do I distinguish between 'opinion' and 'conviction'...because until now, I would have defined conviction as a very strong opinion...but it is not that at all.   A true conviction can only come from the truth.   The whole truth.   And nothing but the truth.    It doesn't come from your emotions.   It doesn't come from your upbringing.   God refers to Himself and His Word as truth.   And I would challenge you make Him the measuring guide by which you measure truth.   Did this come from Him?  If not, can it really be truth?

Our society is thirsty for the exposed truth.   Everyone wants to know the real truth.   The behind the scenes story...the "rest" of the story.  Look at the popularity of reality tv and expose' journalism.    We all want to know the truth...but the Truth is not hidden behind closed doors.    No, the Truth was hung on a cross before the entire world!  

My opinion, as much as I believe it, its not 100% truth.   It is tainted and warped by my experiences, my emotions and my beliefs.    It is my opinion, and until now, I thought it was important that I share my opinion about certain things with everyone.   I shared my opinions in this blog, on Facebook, Instagram and in personal daily conversations.   But what I am now realizing is that my opinion is noise.   Noise...a clanging cymbal, a resounding gong...just noise.   Noise, that contributes to the noise pollution of a world that is desperately thirsty for truth.   Truth that I have, yet I choose to give them noise instead.    Noise that distracts those who are listening and makes it nearly impossible for them to hear the Truth.

1 Corinthians 13 says this :

"If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love (truth), I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal."

I was a drum major in my high school band for 3 years.   Those who were in the band under my leadership will most likely remember that one thing I hated was noise.    You know that drummer who just keeps drumming or the trumpet player who just keeps playing long after the conductor has given the signal for the cut off.   I always saw it as disrespectful and useless...yet, if I am honest...if I am truly honest, I am guilty of this offense.   I have contributed on many occasions to the noise.   Even when I know the conductor (God himself) has given me the cue for the cutoff.   Many times He has even gone so far as to call me out on it...and I still played on.   Why?   Not because my song was so important that others needed to hear...no, it was because it felt good to get it out.    It felt good.   But it wasn't good.   It was noisy.   Very noisy.

That's what our opinions are...just noise.  If you want to make beautiful music, you're going to have to pay close attention to the Conductor...and He will always point you to the Truth, His Word, The Score.   If it doesn't come from there, well then it simply doesn't measure up and it is noise.   It is distracting.  We are all entitled to our opinions...but that doesn't necessarily mean that everyone else is entitled to your opinion.   Ask yourself before you share it, does this line up with God's Word?   If not, then as righteous as you may feel, it is your opinion and it is noise.    Keep it to yourself.   If it is truth, real truth, then let God reveal it in the symphony He is directing.   It really isn't your job.   As for me, I'm going to do my best to stick to the Truth, the whole Truth and nothing but the Truth.

FOUR

Four years.   You've been in heaven for four years now.   To us, it seems like you have been gone forever...but then I remember how "Godtime" works and realize that you're probably still checking in.   I wish you could tell us how grand that place really is.   My heart longs for it...even more now that you are there.

God has been so faithful to me.   I know, you promised me He would be, but He has really blown my mind with His faithfulness.   The kids are doing well...you would be proud of them.   Each one, finding their place in the world in their own way.  The church is doing well.   Moving into a new season wasn't easy, but they've done it and we are expecting great things on the horizon.

This week, I've been remembering tiny details that I had somehow pushed to the back of my memory.  Like the way you would play with your ear when you were nervous or in deep thought.    The way you'd quickly tilt your head to the right, then left when you were trying not to go off on someone.   The way that vein on the side of your forhead would pop when I had pushed all your buttons and you were trying to not go off on me!  The way you'd chew your bottom lip, bite your nails and stand to preach with half your foot dangling over the edge of the stage.   The way you sat in your big chair and studied God's word.  These memories bring a smile to my face and I can just see you doing what you loved all over again.

I miss you more than I can explain.   But I wouldn't bring you back...I know you are where you wanted to be.  So many times, I just wish I could pick your brain.   Although you never flaunted your knowledge, you were so wise when it came to scripture.    You could make the most complex scriptures seem so simple to understand.   Things that I would just read and skim over, you could preach life changing sermons from.   I wish I had spent more time letting you teach me how you did that.   I miss your laugh, the way you rocked out to music from bands I'd never heard of and the way you sang loudly and way off tune...and you didn't care because you were singing to God!

My life is not the same.   You would be happy to know that Mike and I married after Anne joined you in heaven.   He is such a blessing to me.   I prayed (during the time when I was alone) that if I ever remarried, that the man I'd marry would not be intimidated by your memory.    I couldn't imagine a life where I wouldn't be able to celebrate your memory.   I'd rather have remained single.  But God heard my prayer and since Mike loved you, too, we are able to celebrate both you and Anne.   We talk about you often and there are subtle memories all over our home that remind us of you.

And I think that this is where God has shown Himself most faithful.   He has allowed us to love each other deeply and without reserve.   We are passionate about each other and we try to live everyday to the fullest.    We love each other fiercely.  God is still using us...just not the same way.    We are in a new season and He is revealing ways that He wants to use us if only we are willing.   And we are.   I am blessed beyond anything I could've ever dreamed.   I know your only fear of death was that you were leaving us behind, but I can promise you, God has been faithful and He has provided for us at every turn.

I don't know how much longer we will be here...or when He will call us home.   But now more than ever, I trust that God has a plan and He will bring that plan about in my life.   I don't know when I'll see you again...I do know it will seem like a blink to you but for me, not so much.   I know that you probably won't be able to read this, yet writing it makes me feel better.   But someday, the day will come, when I'll see you in Heaven.   What a reunion that will be.

Today, I will not mourn your loss.   I will celebrate your memory.   I will enjoy the things you enjoyed (except golf...it's too cold and I can't hit the stupid ball anyway!).   I will watch Monk and Bones.  I will eat Mexican.  I will look at your pictures.   I will remember your legacy.   I will


celebrate you...because, I know you, and I know that is exactly what you would want me to do.   So happy anniversary of getting to heaven day!   Happy great reward day!   You deserved it!  You are still loved here on Earth!  But I celebrate you today!   I love you, still!

The Words of My Mouth...

Tonight I laid wide awake in bed, beside my husband who was doing his best to sleep.   I tossed and turned.   I fidgeted.   I prayed.   But sleep would not come.   Finally, (because I knew he'd be getting up super early to go hunting), I crawled from our bed and went to the living room where I spent the next couple of hours reading facebook posts and looking at pinterest.   Still, my mind was on overload and sleep wouldn't come.  So, in my frustration, I began to do what I do...I talked to God.   "Why am I so anxious?"   "Why can't my mind just shut it down?"   "Aggggh!"   No response.   Wait...what is that faint sound...I can't quite make it out.   Is that you, God?   If so, you should speak up, because my mind is too loud and I can't hear you!!!

Suddenly, I got a mental image of God slowly placing His finger over His lips and saying calmly, "Shhhhhh!"   I had just been shhhhh'd by God.   Really!   Imagine that.  (If you know me, then you know how much I HATE being shhhhh'd!)  God wanted me to just hush!

Earlier this evening, a friend stopped by and visited with us.   We talked about some tough topics.  It's good to have friends that you can be completely transparent with...but understand, not everyone can handle your transparency.    Thankfully, this one can.   In the course of our conversation, God brought one of my favorite scriptures to mind, "Let the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart, be pleasing in Your sight, O Lord, my strength and my redeemer."-Psalm 19:14

For the last few hours, my thoughts have been consumed by my words.     Are my words pleasing to my Lord?    The words I speak in conversations I have with my husband?    The words I use when I speak to my kids?   The words I speak in the grocery store, at church or in passing?   The words I speak in jest...or how about the words I speak in judgement?  Is God pleased with my words?   How about when I'm whining (yes, I admit that I do this on occasion)?    How about the words I write?  Do those bring a smile or a grimmace to God's face?  

You see, I cannot choose the circumstances I find myself in.    If I could, I would never be wronged again or hurt by another's actions or lack thereof.   It is not up to me if I face sickness or disease.  I would never lose another loved one to death.   I don't get to see what lies around the bend.   But guess what?   I can choose my words.

I may not be able to choose my emotions, but I can choose what will meditate on.   I can choose how I will respond...and whether or not it will please God.

Yes, I will face heartbreak.   I will face disappointment and perhaps I will experience betrayal and even outrage.   Those things I can't control.    Anger, sadness, disappointment, fear...all part of life...but those things do not define who I am.   How I respond to those things however, does speak volumes of the real me, but even more, it reflects on the God I serve.  

Because I trust Him completely, it is imperative to me that my words reflect His authority in my life.   I want my words to bring Him glory.   I want my words to direct attention to Him...not to me, or my cause, or my desires.   I want the things I think about and the things I spend time dwelling on, to be the goodness and faithfulness of God...not the disappointments of a fallen world that I live in.  

I believe tonight, I have a new glimpse of what David was thinking when he wrote these words.  If I were David, perhaps I would've written it like this.   Lord, let me keep my mind more on You than on this world around me.   Let my words reflect You...not the dispair and gloom I may find myself in.   Lord, don't let my words reflect my anger, my disgust or my opinion.   The world doesn't need that.   What the world needs is You!   So, Lord, when my eyes become distracted by the world around me, draw my attention back to You.   Remind me to think about You and Your goodness.   That alone will blot out everything surrounding me.   And then, when my mind is consumed by Your love, let me speak.   Let me speak the truth...in Your love.  Amen.

Tic-Toc!

It's been far too long since I've written.  Perhaps that is why sleep is evasive tonight.   Maybe it's God's way of bringing me back to the keyboard...to our quiet place...the place where He speaks to me things that I can only hear in the silence.   The song He sings to me set to the cadence of the ticking of the clock.

Where did the time go?  I blinked and a couple months whizzed by!   Yesterday, Mike and I celebrated our 2nd anniversary...how did that happen?   It feels like we just got married!   Yes, our life has been fast paced in the past year, with the campaign and all, but we are very cautious about cherishing every moment...so when I realized just how fast time was passing, it really has made me think about what I am doing with my moments.

In just over four months, Abbi will graduate from High School.   Just a couple of months later, she will go away to college.   And just like that the last of my baby birds will fly away...and the nest will be empty.   For those of you who know me, you know that I have always had a theory that the empty nest syndrome was pretty much a myth.   I know I will miss having her here, don't get me wrong.   I'll miss our giggles in the kitchen, reminding her to get her room "squared away", her technological help with devices I will never understand.   I'll miss our chats and coming to the conclusion that she really didn't want my advice as much as she just wanted someone to hear her out.   I know...I will miss it.

But I also know that in order for her to fulfill the calling on her life, she must fly away.   Keeping her in the nest will only cripple her ability to be who God created her to be.   So before 2017 comes to an end, I will gently nudge my baby bird from the nest and watch her begin to soar.  As tempting as it is, now is not the time to make the nest more comfortable...it is the time for me to do what mama birds do, and teach her how to use her wings.

Life is full of seasons.   Moments that run into hours, hours into days, days into weeks...months, years, seasons.   We must be cautious to appreciate every season and not spend our time rushing through to get to the next season of life.    Fully appreciating each season involves embracing the moment, understanding that in time, the next season will come.    It means not trying to hold off the next season, as well.   It is not within our power to slow time down, we must learn to be good time keepers.  Valuing every moment.

I really thought I had completely learned this lesson after losing Jeff.   I thought God had ingrained this important lesson in my brain through our struggle with cancer.   Yet tonight, I am realizing that this is a lesson He will continue to teach me for the rest of my days.   Learning to not get so caught up in planning for the next season, that I miss what is happening in this one.   One thing I have learned is that once a moment is gone, it is gone...it will only remain in our memory.

So tonight, less than a week into 2017, I am reaffirming my committment to live in the moment God has placed me in.   To live my life in a way that reflects His goodness to me.   I commit to love my husband and children fiercely, striving to put away distractions that would keep me from valuing the moments God has given us together.   It's not so much a New Year's resolution, as it is just an awakening to the fact that the clock is ticking.   Tic-toc, tic-toc, tic-toc.

I remember the words of a song by the Steve Miller Band..."time keeps on slipping, slipping, slipping into the future".   Ecclesiastes 3 says it best...

1   There is a time for everything,
     and a season for every activity under the heavens:
2   a time to be born and a time to die,
     a time to plant and a time to uproot,
3   a time to kill and a time to heal,
     a time to tear down and a time to build,
4   a time to weep and a time to laugh,
     a time to mourn and a time to dance,
5   a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
     a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,
6   a time to search and a time to give up,
     a time to keep and a time to throw away,
7   a time to tear and a time to mend,
     a time to be silent and a time to speak,
8   a time to love and a time to hate,
     a time for war and a time for peace.

Lord, help me to cherish every moment.   The be present in the present.   To trust You with the future and every season.  And thank you tonight, for the song of the clock...tic-toc, tic-toc, tic-toc.

Engraved

Recently, I saw a post by a friend that referred to a tattoo that once was a sign of promise but now was just a big mistake.   I'm not sure if it was a name or a symbol, but whatever my friend had once had tattooed on her hand, she now covered up with a ring.   She no longer wanted it there.   What was once very dear, was now covered up, hidden so as not to remind her of what once was.  

My friend's post came back to me as I read my Bible this morning.  "Can a mother forget the baby at her breast and have no compassion on the child she has borne?   Though she may forget, I will not forget you!   See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands."   Isaiah 49:15, 16

I have another friend who struggles with self-worth.   Although this person is a Christian, they never feel like they are good enough to be loved by a righteous God.   Even though they've repented and have changed, in the back of their mind remains the thought that they have just done too many bad things and can never be completely forgiven.  It is a fear many of us face, that we are simply unloveable.

My late husband's mother was a very sweet mother-in-law.   She passed away just a few months before we learned of Jeff's cancer.   In her latter days, alzheimers ravished her mind in a way that was heartbreaking to all her loved her.   Jeff and his mom were very close.   For the first eight years of his life his dad was away in the military, so it was just Jeff and his mom.   They formed a bond that few could understand.

I will never forget the day that she forgot him.   It was perhaps the most broken I had seen him up to that point.   Shirley (Jeff's mom) had what the medical staff around her referred to as "Sundowners".   It is a form of Alzheimers that primarily affects a patient in the latter hours of the day.   The person may be cognizant in the morning, but by late afternoon, they can't remember people who are dearest to them.  

Because we lived hundreds of miles away, we were not aware how severe this condition could be.   We had heard from other family members how sad it was, but we really thought she would always remember Jeff.   That day we went to the nursing home around 10 in the morning.   We were visiting for the weekend and wanted to spend as much time as possible with her while we were there.    We walked in the room and she called each of us by name...Whew! She remembered us!   Perhaps family had misunderstood her symptoms after all.   She talked with us for the next several hours, dozing here and there.   She seemed tired but fine overall.

Then, around 3:30 in the afternoon, she looked over at Jeff and jumped.   Who was this strange man in her room?   It was heart breaking to watch as my mother-in-law, who I knew deeply loved her son, could not remember this child she gave birth to.   Thankfully, her lapse in memory only lasted until the next morning and she could remember him again.

So when I read this passage of scripture, I understand that yes, it is possible for a mother to forget her child that she loves.   I also know that it is possible to write something on your hand that you later regret.   But when I hear the term the writer uses here to describe the level of devotion God has to His children, I am in awe.    The scripture says, "See I have engraved you in the palm of my hand."

Engraved.   When I hear that term, I think "carved", so God has "carved" my name on His hands?   Yes, He did, and He did it with rusty nails!   You see, as He engraved my name on His hands, He was forgiving my sins.   It's a concept that is almost too large for my mind to comprehend.   But what I know beyond a shadow of a doubt is that Christ, who knew no sin, took my sin and forgave it and that as they nailed Him to a cross, my name (and yours) was engraved on His hands.   Unlike my friend, Christ doesn't regret this engraving...it was the purpose He came to Earth for.  

So the next time Satan tries to tell you that you've been too bad, that you are unlovable, or that you've been forgotten, you just remind him that you've been ENGRAVED on your Savior's hand!