R&R

I sit in the quiet of my mind.

I love being a my parent's house.  I am here now and was enjoying being outside on their deck.  The morning was cool and the sun was playing peek-a-boo with the clouds.  Shadows danced on the wooden deck constantly moving and it reminded me of how quickly my emotions are changing from one extreme to the other to yet another.  Look up and you can see the cloud coming to cover the sun, you see the effect of it...there is less light there is a shadow that attacks the ground with a darker cover.  I can feel a darkness coming in my mind, that I am going to think about something painful and it brings about a range of different feelings.  Mourning, betrayal, sadness, anger, even peace all experienced in a matter of minutes, then the sun shines again and there is light and warmth and I sigh with relief that the shadow storm is over, even if only for a minute.  It is exhausting, but in my moments of serenity I can enjoy what God is giving me right now.  Right now I get to enjoy this beautiful piece of property that is away from people.  Life in the bubble.  It's my safe place.  I am reminded of how blessed I was growing up to have a place so secure.  It's a clearing in the woods, on a hill.  Lay down in the grass anywhere and you can see a fortress of trees looking down on you, offering protection.  Short trails in the woods offered my young self a start to being in love with the outdoors, exploration, and adventure.  There is evidence of history, stone walls that used to separate fields, burnt hollowed out trees from a fire caused by a train that no longer runs.  This was my world growing up.  My imagination ran free here.  The landscape has changed a bit from when I lived here, but it still holds the same aura.  It is here that I can process and not be cluttered with outside noise.  It is here that I have had numerous God given "AHA" moments.  Believe it or not I have done more growing up and maturing here in the last 2 years than I ever did when I actually lived here.  I have grown to understand things about my parents, especially my mom, and I have grown to really enjoy my siblings.  I have come to truly appreciate them for all they have done and all they continue to do.

To My Wreslter

I've watched you wrestle.  I've seen you struggle, I've seen you fight, I've seen you be pinned by the truths defined by ignorant ones you loved.  I've observed your brain working to decipher what is true.  I have answered your questions and tried not to push.  Encouragement came naturally of course, but because you are such a people pleaser I tried to be cautious and not let my desire for you, force you into something you didn't quite understand.  This was a choice you had to make on your own.  The good news was brought to you and most times you did not want to hear it.  Seven years on this earth did not mean you were immune to doubt and you found clever ways to swim back to the shallows when feeling like you were getting in too deep.  You battled to believe, to make sense of it all.  God gave you candles to introduce you to the light, not too loud or blinding, but slow burning and consistent.  These candles did not make a plan together but were used in God's plan for you to be saved by his son.  Your questions were inquisitive and provoking, you collected information like an investigator.  And when the time came that you were ready, you were indeed ready.  You set a time, and a place... one that was a common place for conversations void of outside noise.  A place that so many of your questions had been asked and answered in the months before.  I held my breath as you began to reach your hand out to Jesus, not sure if you were really going to open your hand up to him and hold on for dear life as he saved you from the death you would face. Hours passed, silent prayers were said for you, and for me as I would be the one with you during this precious moment.  I became nervous as we neared the end of our nighttime ritual.  One book, one story out of the Jesus book, and then bedtime prayers.  Excitement filled you as you could barely get the words out "It's time to make the choice!!" You reached into your pocket and pulled out the alphabetical road map mimi had written out for you.   I watched and listened as you now answered my questions, I reviewed the plan one last time and asked if you were sure, we prayed together.  I hugged you.  I told you I was so happy that you were one day going to live with Jesus along with me.

I have always felt my own salvation story is boring, and lame.  It isn't, because of what Jesus did, it could never be lame.  Please know that after watching this process, your story is far from lame and I will try my best to always remember the moments leading up to this so I can help you to understand how much God worked on you, how often Jesus knocked on your door, and how often you did not answer.

Please know that this is only the beginning and being a follower of Jesus is a journey not an end point.  I will be there to pray for you, and watch as God uses you in the lives of those around you.  I am praising Jesus for making a home in your heart and for allowing me to witness such a moment.

Already, you are proving to have a heart for those still in the dark.  Brynn is only 6 months old and you made sure you put the road map in her room so she may believe as well.

Confession Time

Writing was something I did enjoy in high school.  The class assignments were fun enough and I usually received above average grades.  But I hated keeping a journal.  It's like once the ideas and emotions in my brain were written down on paper, I realized how crazy I sounded and having the written evidence was something I just couldn't allow.  The paper would normally end up as food for the trash can.  So a year ago when my counselor (among others, our pastor is a big supporter of journals for spiritual growth..shout out to Vince) suggested I start to journal, an eye roll from myself quickly followed.  However, I listened and conformed, and I still continue to this day .  I have only read them once from beginning to end and it amazes me now.  It is a well documented timeline of my ups and my downs.  A history book...or for those of us who gravitate toward gender equality "Herstory" book.  It is a testament to God's hand in our lives.  Documentation of self awareness and epiphany type breakthroughs that can only be defined as gifts of insight from our heavenly father.  So many tearful entries written, that to read them now makes me glad time has passed and I never have to relive that day again.  But all these are so personal and the only place they exist are in a leather bound book that is carried with me mostly everywhere.  The only eyes its been opened to are my own.  Vulnerability in the form of penmanship.  Even my handwriting is different, switching from the usual architect type writing, in all caps, clean and neat.  Instead in the journal, the ink flows from my coveted micron pen with fluidity and without much thought.  Cursive is dying in our public schools, it is alive and well in my hand.  Why am I telling you this?

I just got over the fear of writing for myself and felt pushed to step out of my comfort zone to blog an edited version of my journal.  I want others to see the transformation.  I am not blogging everyday because honestly I don't have that much to say.  I blog when I feel led, no pressure.  Recently though, I felt crippled by fear whenever I thought of writing on my blog.  After pausing and taking a step back I realized it was because people were reading it.  (I know, duh it's online for everyone to see..bear with me) I had opened myself up, I put windows in the walls of my fortress so others could view pieces of my life that aren't visible.  

All the feedback I have received has been positive and encouraging.  And while I am appreciative, I ask that you please not feed my sinful appetite to be the center of the universe and glorify myself instead of God.  Help me to stay humble, help me point to Christ.  In order for this to happen, it is important that Christ is my center, so if you want to help me, pray for me.  I have a long walk ahead and struggle to make time for Jesus in my daily life.  As always I know I am a work in progress and this isn't just a part of the journey, it IS the journey.  

growth will happen