Kneading Patience

Have you ever had a long, wearying morning? Joy could probably relate. 

Shopping can wear out even the indefatigable, and my ambitious “do-it-all-in-the-one-day-you-have-a-car-this-week” attitude had tuckered the both of us out on that particular cold Winter day. Big adult problems filled my grown-up head as we drove along home. But dear little Joy? The greatest longing of her heart was to be out of her car seat, and out now! My heart wanted to break as I saw her very sad little face in my rear-view mirror, the car filled trunk to hood with her desperate cries for relief from the awful confines of that terrible car seat. 

“Oh Sweetie,” I heard myself crooning soothingly over and over amidst the din. “It’s gonna be alright Sweet Girl. You’re not gonna be here forever, Joy. Just wait a little longer. We are almost home, we are almost home.”

Suddenly my eyes spilled over in tears, the kind that get you by surprise and take over like the conquest of Troy. Suddenly it wasn’t baby Joy in the car seat anymore, it was her Mommy, and her Daddy-God was the gentle car Driver. He knew the whole journey well, for He had navigated these roads thousands of times before. His heart broke at my whimpering pleas for relief and for a speedy end to confines I didn’t understand. Her whimpering pleas suddenly seemed my own, as I begged God to answer my prayers for several situations, and do it NOW. Moreover, the words changed ownership as they came from my mouth and God started speaking them to me: 

“You’re not going to be here forever, Sweetie. Just wait a little longer. I wish I could get you out, but it’s not the best for you. Oh, I’m so sorry, I know you don’t understand. It is breaking my heart to hear you cry! But Sweet Girl, we’re almost Home. We’re almost Home!”

I imagined my Father, working on my life perhaps as a hunk of bread dough. From His perspective, my Tribulations were kneading some necessary Patience into my dough. 

Patience, mixed with time, was creating a beautiful and valuable Experience. Experience, coming out of the heat of the oven, brought with it the rich aroma of Hope; and my Heavenly Papa knew that the Hope would come with a new abundance of unashamedness and love! (See Romans 5:3-5) From His perspective, the patience wasn’t going to last forever, nor was it going to ruin anything. From His perspective, my weary cries broke His heart, and He longed to take me out! But it wasn’t yet time. For my good.

I think back over the last several years of my life, and the seasons they contain. As I reminisce through the changing periods of sorrow and joy, dying and resurrection, I imagine my Father right there, walking through it all right beside me. During the seasons of tribulation, He was there, guiding my heart into patience. As I emerged slowly from the intensity of the tribulation, He was there gently handing me the gift of a new experience that He had purposefully thought up or allowed. Then came the celebration together of Hope! The season of rejoicing in the goodness of my Father which I had chosen to believe in when I couldn’t see it.

“We’re almost Home, we’re almost Home!” I could almost hear His encouraging whisper in my heart. Ah. From His perspective, my trials are not all that long. In fact, in comparison to an exciting eternity with Him, they are just about to forever end! I’m almost Home! Heaven is just up ahead. It feels like my current trials will last forever, but they will not. They aren’t immortal! There is hope, if I am only willing to surrender my heart to the voice of my Father and trust His perspective above mine.

In the car, familiar surroundings glided past outside the windows. My daughter’s darling blue eyes, however, were tightly closed. Unlike me, she couldn’t see that we were 3/4 of the way down Prince Street, and it would only be three more minutes till her Mama was lifting her from her seat to snuggle and comfort her. Her eyes were squeezed shut, and her mouth was furiously at work with air over vocal chords, heartbreaking as the funeral wails of the heathen. As her mother, my feelings for her helped me realize how badly God was wishing that I could understand just how short my trials really will turn out to be. For from His perspective? They are classified Light, Momentary. Compared, that is, to what’s ahead in eternity with Him!

Today as I quiet my heart, He is assuring me that He knows that the waiting hurts, and He cares about the feeling of His daughter who can’t see beyond the confines of the “car seat”. And yes, like He promised, Experiences of the last years of my life have come to me with the aroma of Hope. I am learning that I’m loved while “strapped in my car seat”. I’m learning to relax and enjoy the ride. 

And to my deep relief and joy, with the passing of time I’m beginning to think my little daughter is learning, too.

A Free Boost

What if I would tell you that there’s something simple that you could do for one week that could boost your mood, your marriage, and your life in general? What if this thing was such a good price that it was free? A FREE way to boost your marriage, mood, and life in general? 

Are you ready? Okay, here we go:

Step one: Think of one person whom you love and love to see encouraged. Get ready to contact them. OK, step two: Tell them that you have an idea but you need a partner to do it with. You want to write down ten things you’re sincerely grateful for every day for one week, and want to share them with someone: with one condition, that they also send back a list of ten to you. Just for one week. That's not too hard is it? 

That's it! Except, of course, doing it. 

I did this "game" with three of my friends so far (one of whom is my best bestie, my treasured Jonathan!) and the result exceeded my expectations! I wanted to do something to be proactive against the blues that like to overwhelm new mommies ,so I did this with several other new moms that I know. Can you guess what happened when the end of the week rolled up? We kept sending these lists. It’s actually addictive! We discovered that the encouragement we got from it came in several different flavors:

1. We needed to stop and look around us and think of things that were a blessing and which we were truly grateful for.
2. Since we did it every day, we needed to be creative, which was a bonus because we were thankful for things we had never thought of being thankful for before!
3. Since we sent them to each other, we had the blessing of getting to share the precious gifts we discovered in each day with someone else, which was doubled the joy!
4. Not only did we enjoy sharing the things we found to be grateful for, we also got to hear things from another woman who we knew was facing similar difficulties as ourselves with thankfulness, which was encouragement on top of encouragement!
5. We started getting addicted to being thankful; even in the month or more since the week was up, we have sent each other lists of thankful-things!
6. These little lists turned into lines of life for bad, awful, miserable, baby-won’t-sleep, overwhelming (you’re getting the picture, right?) days. We turned to them when we felt ourselves going “under” in the ocean of emotion, and used those little lines of gratefulness to hold onto and keep us from drowning.

So here’s my challenge to you: find someone to do this with and ask God to show up in the middle of the lists in special ways. I believe you will find Him giving you personal gifts in the midst of your day-to-day mornings and messes: your living, caring, personal God.

Here's a little tip: If you don’t have time to write things, snap a picture to send that captures your thought. 

Anybody want to be my “partner in thanks” this coming week? 

Come, MAGNIFY the Lord with me! I will magnify Him with thanksgiving.

See Psalms 34:3 and Psalm 69:33. 

Nail Clippers, Dates, and Parking Spots

When this time of year comes around with its twinkling lights, the name "Immanuel" appears more often than usual. Jesus's coming was foretold with the usage of a precious name for Him: "Immanuel; that is, God With Us". For me personally, this is one of my most favorite names for my God. It never ceases to amaze me that the God who created the galaxies and our little life-inhabited globe cared so much for the world that He put Himself into a human body and lived among us!

What is equally awesome is that He is still God With Us, now. This week I have been noticing a lot of little ways that He has shown up in my life, and I wanted to share them with somebody. You might think they're minuscule but they show me that He is present in my life, and that He cares. So if you want to hear my stories...here goes:

Fingernail Clippers

I was ambling through Sharp Shopper, treasure hunting from my shopping list, when I spied with my little eye a plastic bin of: fingernail clippers! Now the reasons for my excitement were threefold: 1) I had mysteriously lost my clippers recently and they happen to be a frequented essential in my bag for dealing with everything from fast-growing fingernails to opening a tough bag of chips! 2) These clippers also had the cuticle/cleaner piece; and 3) They were the kind you could clip onto your key ring. When I got the checkout I discovered moreover that they were being sold for the grand price of $.99 a piece! I took them home and upon trying them out realized that they are really nice. In fact, I must have bragged them up because both my husband and one of my sisters both asked me to get them one the next time I could go to that store!

Well, the days passed and I wasn’t able to get out. It bothered me in the back of my mind since I had told them I would get them some clippers too. “Lord, could you let there be at least two left when I can get to that store again?” I asked my Father. If you've ever been to Sharp Shopper, you know that what you find there one time probably won't be there the next time you come, at least if it's a good deal.

Finally I was able to get out, and went straight for the aisle which housed the little shiny treasures. My heart beat faster as I saw the basket was empty...of all except for TWO fingernail clippers. I worshipped God right there. In this little detail of my life, God was there, and He cared.

Medjool Dates

A few nights ago two of Jonathan’s Middle Eastern friends were coming over for coffee and Book-reading. I was busy caring for Joy (it was getting late at night) so my husband and I discussed what he could serve his friends. We didn’t seem to have a lot of good options in the house at the moment, except for...our special medjool dates. I had splurged and bought them a few weeks ago and we were relishing each nibble together. They were really soft, exceptionally melt-in-your-mouth dates. We both looked at each other. Those dates felt pretty special and hard to give up at that moment. Slowly and decisively Jonathan lifted the container of delicacies up with both hands and said, “Lord we give these dates to you.” So around the Book the men enjoyed their treat with sips of strong black Arabic coffee late at night.

This morning I had some shopping to do, and I decided I would stop at Aldi’s to see if by any chance they still had those dates. Guess what? There they were, and were one of the week’s specials at half the price I remember them being several weeks ago! I was able to get two containers for around the same price I had been planning to get one, and I did it wearing a big smile. My God cares about our little “sacrifice” of something special to us and wanted to remind me that He repays over and above in heaven what we give Him here below - and sometimes He repays on earth too.

Parking Spots 
I don't know if you've ever lived on the second/third story apartment of a house or not. It means that you get a lot of stairs into your daily routine. Not only stairs, but if you live in a row house near downtown without a parking spot to call your own, you may need to be walking a block or more to find your car! This was an inconvenience before having a child, but now with a warm little darling in her carseat to carry (not to mention everything else a trip going out entails) the hike down the stairs is a bigger and trickier workout, and to walk a freezing block away with several loads can be daunting and confusing. What do I take out first, and what do I leave for last? Can I manage to carry everything in one trip, or will I end up partway down the street with stuff falling out of my arms? Will my baby be crying in the house, disturbing the neighbors, while I take out the first load?

So all of that is the background for a simple plea to God to let there be a parking space out in front of our house for me. Not just once...but all Winter, Lord?

So far, He has totally answered my prayer since then, and oh how I treasure every blessed time I pull onto our street and find a parking spot right in front of our row house! Once, as I pulled up to park the person who had parked in front of our house came walking down the street right then, got in his car and drove away! I do believe at that moment my Father in Heaven was smiling at me.

I know the title only had three items, but here's a couple bonus stories where I saw God in the last week:

Dinnertime Discussion

Recently we were privileged to eat dinner with a family who has been through a lot. They know so much suffering and heartache, yet don't seem to be bitter, so Jonathan asked them, "What do you do to stay encouraged as you walk through suffering and trials?" Their response was so beautiful I stayed stuck in the moment, savoring it long after the others had moved the discussion on. "We are convinced of the Sovereignty of God. That's one thing we decided to put our absolute faith in long ago, and when we don't understand what's going on we fall back on that trust." The rock-solid faith that I felt in those words and the tone of voice they were spoken in has stayed with me ever since. I saw God-With-Us there at the table eating our roast and vegetables. Only He could give the grace to hold on to faith like that.

Three Angels
I was having a rough morning about a week ago, so before Jonathan went to work he prayed for me. I got tears in my eyes when he prayed that God would send someone to visit me that day. "That gift would bless me so much," I thought. "It's just what I need." My baby went to sleep, so I did too. I slept, that is, until my phone started ringing. It was my sister Elisabeth, and basically the first thing she said was, "The rest of the family except Jonathan, Michaela and I will be gone or busy this afternoon, so I was wondering if we could come over and visit you! Would that be OK?"

Ahh. What a delight. God, with us. How I enjoyed my afternoon with those three "angels".

Where do you see Immanuel at work in your life this week? I would really love to hear your stories too!

Is He Missing You?

This week I’ve been thinking a lot about pacifiers. Kinda like when you go on a diet and there are foods you’re not allowed to eat, you know? Those banned foods suddenly rise to power and rule the thoughts with an enchanting dictatorship of desiring the Forbidden, which you may have rarely even wanted before!

In my (or should I say, “my child’s”) case this week, the pacifiers have been given a mandatory break from childcare duty at our house. So believe me, I’ve been thinking a lot about pacifiers!

To say the truth, I think it might be even harder on the Mommy and Daddy than the little girl. 

When as charming a human as she is looks at you with big, imploring eyes that stream with crocodile-sized tears while obviously begging for the banned silicone sucker... Oh dear, it’s enough to make any tough cookie crumble!

But I am not writing this page to talk about the whether-or-not-s of pacifier usage for infants, as I am quite unsuited for that task. I can, however, write about what I’ve been learning about myself this week.

I have been seeing myself in my tiny girl.

When she is craving that pacifier, I’ve had to wonder: Where do I go when a craving rises in me to be “pacified”? When I feel that hunger in me for something to soothe my soul, where do I go? Do I instinctively nuzzle towards the Source of all my heart’s satisfaction and the One who truly can meet all my needs, filling my mouth with good things? Or do I guzzle on a "piece of silicone" incessantly, thinking I have all I need when it’s not giving me a thing that lasts? I could be satisfying myself in the richness of my Father!

Several nights ago our Joy-Angel cried like her little heart had broken apart, as we rocked, talked, sang, and choked on the cries that were coming up our throats as well. Oh, how I wanted with all of my big mama-heart to give her that little pacifier and make her happy!! But then a different flavor of tears came to my eyes, as I heard my Heavenly Father whispering, “I get these feelings too”. 

As I tried to be a comfort to the restless infant, I saw myself, God's little one, in her restlessness. I realized in a new way like never before how my Heavenly Papa is watching me lovingly, as I instinctively realize the hungry longing of my soul. What a sad sense of loss he bears, when instead of running to HIM, full of faith that I’m just about to get satisfied, I grope around and choose some sort of empty “pacifier” to take His place! Oh, how He wants to make me feel satisfied and happy! Oh, may I learn to let nothing keep me from choosing HIM!

As I write this post today, my daughter is contentedly nursing in my arms, snuggled warmly up in her favorite fuzzy blanket. The intense longing for her pacifier has vanished in all the sweetness I have to offer. To me, the restful beauty of the two of us is being mentally superimposed over these words:

“[Jehovah] satisfieth thy mouth with good things, so that thy youth is renewed...” - Psa 103:5

How precious to know that He wants to satisfy my mouth with good things...and since He IS the origin of all good things, I can know that He wants to satisfy my mouth with His very own Self!

If your Heavenly Father is removing something you like very much from your life this week for reasons you don’t understand, good news! Be encouraged, because it’s probably a sign He’s missing you. He just wants to be closer to you and spend more time satisfying your heart!

(Note: I know the subject of pacifiers is quite controversial and I’m not trying to say that pacifiers are evil or that I’m sorry I’ve used one. In my experience of late however my daughter started turning to pacifiers at times when in my classification she needed to be turning to me! Thus the thoughts in this post.)

My Dilemma (Opportunity?)

“Is this one your first?”

They all want to know,

All the curious admirers 

This question throw

"Yes, she is my first";

But no, she is not;

"I’ve also a boy...

But she’s all that I’ve got."

Oh what is most truthful??

My heart pleads inside

I want to explain, 

But as well want to hide.

I don’t want the blushes,

The awkward trite words

So should I just smile

And say, “yes it’s my first”?

It’s my first to be waking

Through nighttime to feed

But the second to have milk

And a baby to need.

It’s the first time to see

My child smiling at me

But oh, how I still miss

My son’s boyish glee.

She’s the first I hug daily

And kiss on the nose

But one day I did hug him, 

Kissed, and fingered his toes.

It’s the first I am cheering

At each development

But no, I’d cheered for his

Though I hadn’t seen him yet.

So what should I answer?

What’s most true to my heart?

The most truthful? least awkward?

Choosing which, is an art.

She’s the one for my arms now

The other, God has

Takes time to explain 

But I’m glad that you asked.

She’s the only one with me,

But it’s two I’ve been giv’n-

She’s the one you can see,

And my Boy - lives in Heav’n!

Written Nov 30, 2017

I am finding a way to answer that oft-asked question, a way that shows my anticipation for heaven and my love for Seth. It has opened up many good conversations with people. When you are willing to be vulnerable and aren’t awkward about it, other people know it’s OK to share their vulnerabilities as well. God is helping me turn this question that I don’t like a whole lot into an opportunity for meaningful connections with people I never would’ve connected with if it weren’t for my children. Thank You Lord.

What is a question you don't enjoy answering? Perhaps God would like to give you a way to answer that will turn it into an opportunity instead of a dreaded scenario.

Receive and Release

The benevolence of the evening sun gifts my humble living room with gold as the afternoon prepares to draw its curtains for the night. A delicate string of tissue paper garlands receive some gold for their own as they hang effortlessly, elegantly across the corner.

Eyes on the golden-lighted pompoms, I find my mind wandering to the day when I put them there. They had been strung up for a birthday party, those pompoms had been. A party to celebrate a little boy...who wasn’t there. My eyes deliberate on the baby footprints framed on the wall.

It has been exactly 18 months, and still, never a day goes by that I don’t think of my baby boy. Eighteen months since I kissed him goodbye, and yet it feels as though he still lives on in my heart. One of my friends expressed her surprise when I happened to tell her I think of Seth so continually. She had thought the loss was past, the child largely forgotten. But no...

How could I forget?

Like the sunshine sharing its glory this evening, my small child shared some of his God-given glory with me, and I received it. It became a part of me as much as he had been once a part of me. And even now, they say, some of his little body’s cells inhabit my body. I can’t explain how the bond went so deep, but we shared a lot together in those short months... Scientists tell us moms that maybe the feeling of our children being a sort of inseparable part of us isn’t that far from reality:

“In pregnancy, women are shape-shifters, their bellies waxing like the moon. After delivery, they hold another kind of magic: microchimerism, a condition in which women harbor cells that originated in their children even decades after birth...These fetal cells migrate all over a mother’s body, becoming part of the heart, the brain, and blood—and fascinating scientist and artists alike.” (Source: The Atlantic. Also see this.)

The wonder of those words hasn't left me since I first read them. Strung as I am between my birth and eternity, there are things I will always wonder over. How could cells from my baby continue to live on within me? How can my children claim such a big part in my heart? “How can someone so small hold my heart so tightly?”

The tiny life of Seth Malakai Rudolph inhabited my body, a creation only perhaps a dozen people got to see, yet I received that God-given-glory deeply. 

The delicate pompoms have now surrendered their gold into the hands of the quiet evening, and I too choose to release myself to my Creator. My questions, my ache, my wondering heart. To release my son, yet again. I am awed at the beauty of my God’s imagination. His interesting ways. His unique gifts. I delight to have had the chance to be mother to that little person. By God’s strength through grace I am free to receive and release.

Pop Me A Quiz, Please

As a girl, I was enthralled by the word "pop", as well as any of its derivatives. Popsicles? How I loved to slurp the cold, sweetness of a homemade juice popsicle on a hot day. Or pretty much any kind of a day. Popcorn? If we didn't make it once a week I missed its crunchy saltiness enough to make it for a snack whenever my mom would allow. Even if it wasn't 6pm on Sunday. Lollipops?! The fact that grownups didn't seem to enjoy them never bothered me a lick! (Pun intended) Lollipops appeared on my drawings and childish journal entries as little icons of happiness. Favorite flower? The very name, "poppy" sounded jolly and the orange petals whose colors popped so flamboyantly ranked up there in my favorites to be sure. "Popping in" on a friend always sounded like such a mesmerizing thing to do. And yes, there was even a darling old Little Tot book at my Great Grandpa's that captured my heart from the start. The title was "Soda Pop"!

So perhaps it was my childhood delight in everything "pop"-ish that caused the words "Pop Quiz" to dance off the page and into my imagination in the book for mommies that I was reading today. Unlike the kind of pop that deflates a balloon, this sort of "pop" put helium in mine!

I really did need a boost as I sat not completely unlike a zombie (or a grouch) in bed in a tangle of sheets, spit up drying on my arms and my darling infant finally half asleep beside me. As I turned to find my place in the book, "Pop Quiz, hot shot" caught my eye. Intrigued, I read on:

A. My difficulties are literally Thanksgiving burdens. 

They spring from bounty and abundance and point to blessing in every respect.

B. My difficulties require difficult, costly sacrifices

C. I have a choice to make. I can fight with bitterness against these sacrifices,

or I can surrender to them.

Folks, that little "pop quiz" had the amazing ability to change my perspective on everything. I found myself agreeing with the mommy-author that my answer is "D"; all of the above. And if that's true, in reality all is well, and will be well. The difficulties we face are not too big. They are evidences of great, grand blessings! Kind of like the mountain of little white newborn-sized diaper packages containing baby messes beside the bed which are a sign of many good meals slurped down by my infant, a sign of the gift of what is becoming successful breastfeeding. A sign of a tummy that got filled; of a happy, growing little baby. The wakeful nights are a symbol of my dream come true, a little baby of my own to take care of. My lack of clothes that fit, along with the tummy flab to match, are a reminder of the beauty of a little life my body harbored as God did a new work of creation. The doctor bill is a reminder that none of my husband's scary looking moles are dangerous and needing to be removed.  The inconvenience of taking care of a case of thrush means that there actually is a solution. The heap of dirty dishes crusting in the sink is a reminder that we have had plenty to eat!

Since "D" is true, the difficulties I feel twining around me are an opportunity to surrender and let go of "me" to become free! They're a chance to embrace what's hard with a smile of gratefulness, which catalyzes a wonderfully intriguing metamorphosis. The things I choose to embrace and welcome become transformed into wings, giving this "caterpillar" a chance to FLY.....

So, next time my attitude is turning as disgusting as warm soda without its "pop",  Pass Me A Pop Quiz Please. (I'm 100% sure my husband will be cheering you on!) ;)

This was written several weeks ago by now. I'm still doing the Pop Quizzes and finding delight in popping free of my "chrysalis" to fly!

Missing Out

We see brave soldiers fighting,

The Devil’s ranks to rout

They’re conquering in Christ’s Kingdom:

Do we sit…missing out?

We play along the sidelines

Sometimes the war to scout

We clap and cheer the soldiers here,

But…are we missing out?!

“Come, join the Ranks!” they call us,

With tears and heart devout.

But while they keep on fighting,

They know we’re missing out!

Oh, what will keep us back, friends?

Is it a fear, a doubt?

Oh, yield to God, no need to wait;

Say, “Hey! I’m missing out!”

Forget the things that matter less;

Let go, and do without

It’s better far to’ve followed Christ

Than find that you’ve missed out!

An easy life, ‘twill never be:

That’s not what war’s about!

But put your might into the fight:

You won’t be missing out.

Yes, missing out—on fleeting fun;

But once we’ve fought, we’ll shout:

“We’ve got the victory: Hurrah!

And we’re NOT MISSING OUT!”

When heav’n becomes our dwelling place

GONE will be every doubt.

We’ll stand in joy with our rewards:

May none be Missing Out!

Written four years ago on October 1st, 2013

When Hubby Comes Home

It had been a long day, and I was genuinely tired out not only physically but also emotionally. My one month old daughter had been very needy and I didn't always know how to meet her needs, or exactly what those needs were. "Daddy's coming home!", I cooed over and over as I tried to make her feel better.

At last, the familiar, wonderful figure called Daddy, Husband, Provider, World Problem Solver, Delight to My Eyes, Strength to My Heart, Smile Creator, a.k.a. Jonathan Rudolph himself, jingled keys in the lock and appeared in the doorway of our apartment!

My husband made this for our 3rd anniversary

The rejuvenation of a welcome home kiss was more than anticipated as I cajoled and rocked our daughter and waited [im]patiently for the man of my day dreams to get to the top of the stairs.

Should I spill out to him how tired, exhausted, plain weary I am? Should I save that for later? Or maybe it doesn't need to be mentioned at all. That's it. After all, what else would anyone expect a woman to be after trying to enjoy and make a partially sick baby happy all day? Fine, I will give him a wonderful cheery welcome. He is, after all, tired too no doubt. 

Turning my mind's attention back to my infant, I tried to describe to her just how amazing it is to have Daddy home again. She also must learn how important having a good husband is. I should tell her all about it.

"Oh Sweetie, it's all gonna be better soon! You know what? Husbands are just a fresh of breath air."

<<husbands are a fresh of breath air>>

The words replayed in my consciousness, and suddenly I was overwhelmed with the comedy of (and partial truth of) the statement as I awaited my husband's welcome home kiss after his long day of working in clouds of plaster dust. Hilarious laughter filled our home. My tiredness ended up communicating for itself, for the analysis of any good husband will recognize the telltale signs of exhaustion in: 1. the scrambling of thoughts and words, and 2. something miniscule becoming a hilarity so deep as to keep his wife in a fit of laughter the duration of the time it took him to analyze, remove shoes, wipe the day's dirt off the periphery of his kisser at the mirror, and bound up the creaky flight of stairs.

So if you're having a rough day, and it's been almost more than you can handle, and you are trying to make a stirring motion at the stove while producing a bouncing motion for the infant in your other arm while walking to the fridge for sour cream, I hope you have a husband as wonderful as mine.

Or at least the ability to laugh at yourself.

May you have the gift of laughter at the end of your day today (and a wonderful husband besides).

Already Wearing Princess Clothes

The cheap clothing store was large, and my enemy stood at my side, convincingly unrelenting. His immense hatred for me hid behind a hideous, roguish laugh. "This one fits you perfectly," he jeered, as he pulled a gaudy, space-alien-green outfit from off its hanger. Across the back I could see the words emblazoned in an orange the color of traffic cones: "PANIC". My heart froze and skipped a beat and then started up again in a frenzy. What did I know but that it actually did fit me perfectly. I resisted the urge to scream, partly from frustration and desperation, partly from the terror of realizing my enemy was actually on the side of truth. I watched reluctantly as he put the gaudy fabric into my cart.

A few paces down the aisle, my enemy stopped again. I tried not to look and simply mind my own business, however his guffaw made me turn my head involuntarily. A hideous black coat was in his hands this time. "What do you think of this?" He asked. Compelled to reply, I stated, "Awful. Simply awful and ugly." "I know, isn't it." He agreed, in a hatefully amiable fashion. "It's a pity that it matches your personality so well. You deserve to wear this one every day! It would be showing your true 'colors', you know. Like you always want to do." The very aura of the coat emanated Depression, so there was little need for the way that word was pasted across the chest like suffocation. It went into my cart as well.

...Along with a corset called "Fear of Man", and a shawl called "Shame"...

This is the spot my husband found me in recently. No, not in a thrift store with someone hounding my shopping, but when he painted the above picture for me I knew that's exactly how it felt. I was out "clothing shopping" when I already had a wardrobe of finery that outshone any thrifted garments I could hope to find.

I was coming away from experiences of the day wearing hideous outfits that suffocated me, made me ashamed, made me despair. How did they get on?? I wondered. How did I get conned into this?

It all started with an agreement with a Liar.

It all started with going into enemy territory

It all started with blindness to the completeness and beauty of what I already had to wear and who I really am.

"You gotta leave the store!" My husband said imploringly. "You can't afford to even agree with your enemy on one thing for one second! You're already wearing princess clothes! You already have on the gown of Love and the robe of perfect Righteousness! You're already beautiful!"

"It FEELS like the other suggested clothes actually fit me, like they are the wardrobe that is the most natural," I replied hesitatingly, wanting to believe the beauty of his words.

But it's a lie. It's an optical illusion, that panic or depression, fear of man or shame are a perfect fit for me. It's not seeing who I really am. It's agreeing with a feeling, a half truth, a deception, a Liar.

I am beautifully clothed. I am loved. I am righteous. I am a daughter, not an alien foreigner. I belong to God. I belong. I'm not naked; He's got me covered. He's longing for me to agree with Him! It's simple...I can agree with the Liar or with the Truth about who Jesus Christ has made me to be. My new self, the gift God gave me through Christ, is clothed and in her right mind!

Come on, let's get out of the "clothing store". I'm heading for the palace, the King's home, where I belong.

It's Got An Expiration Date

A couple weeks ago you could've found me standing on a chair, organizing my little pantry. Don't scold me...how else am I supposed to reach the top shelf?! In the process of elimination (finding stuff in the pantry that was no longer fit to be there) I came across an ugly old can that read "collard greens". Now, someone had blessed me with this low-sodium gift three grand years ago (can't remember who it was so if it was you, thank you for the inspiration) and I have never gotten the urge to try them yet. Given the fact that we let people stay in our house for several months two different times while we were gone and that can never disappeared, I can deduct that I'm not the only one who found my appetite distracted by the pale photo on the wrapper depicting a dish that looked like it was supposed to be tremendously healthy but admittedly disgusting. In my fervor of cleaning, I picked up this eye-sore and was hit with an inspiration. There's got to be an expiration date somewhere on here! Surely, by now, this half-dented can has lived it's life out and needs no further time to sit patiently taking up room in my little cupboard! Eagerly, I rolled the can around in my hand, hunting for that date; however, to my chagrin it read some future moment in 2018!

I won't tell you what happened to the collard greens, but it reminds me of what someone else told me recently:

"All your problems have an expiration date."

I've been thinking about that. Now, for me, I wish I could roll myself around till I could see exactly when the expiration date of these problems might be, but I've been given clues that it's within the next 2-3 weeks. What problems might I have? Lately it's been hard for me to get up off the floor when I somehow get down there. I wake in the night to feel piercing leg cramps. I want to snuggle with my husband and find that I can't seem to get comfortably close. I can no longer tie my own shoes. Certain smells of perfectly fine food nauseate me from deep within. My skin is stretching so much that if I didn't have a clue as to expiration dates I would find it quite alarming. I huff and puff like a train when I'm trying to do normal things. As you can see, I have some current handicaps.

However, they are telling me that my problems will meet their glorious expiration date one day soon, whereafter I will be free! Free to let them go and free to feel like a new person. (Doesn't that sound like a fun experience!)

This whole subject reminds me of something. Curious? Well I'm thinking about it that you don't have to be pregnant to have problems that come with an expiration date. No matter how ugly the problem, no matter how nasty its wrapper, there is a date coming for you, when the problem will expire and you will get to give it a merry "GOODBYE" as you become FREE! Free at last. 

One day before too long, Jesus will return. Or one day, we will get to go and live with Him before He returns. That will be The Day!! The day that the collard greens roll into the trash can! (So to speak. My apologies to lovers of canned collard greens.) The Day that we get to trade in our problems for our rewards, for our Overcomer badges. Sure, some of our problems will meet their end long before we get to That Day, however this life will always leave us with problems of some kind or the other taking up space in our life's "cupboard". 

Take heart! The expiration date on your very hardest, most distressing and handicapping problems is coming up, and what feels like it will last forever itself will expire, leaving YOU free to revel in your lasting conquerors crown and celebration! The day our problems expire once and for all, we will get a brand new kind of life to live.

Maybe This is What it Feels Like

I sat in a plastic chair at the side of the sidewalk, holding a slice of pizza on a triangle of cardboard, nibbling away. It was my second day in Jerusalem, and there was so much to see and take in around me. But as interesting as the Israeli rabbis and Hasidic Jews buying their lunch along the busy street were, something else caught my attention and imagination, up and away. “There must be a store for buying baby things or else an OBGYN office down the street,” My intellect said to my heart as I tried to eat my pizza. Thing was, my flat-yet-flabby-belly seemed so…so empty. Woman after pregnant woman strolled past me, chit-chatting with her friends, pushing baby strollers, waddling their big round bellies full of life down the street. Why was I so mesmerized by the sight? Why did my heart ache so much? My mind tried to stay busy, taking in the fascinations of town, the unfamiliar sound of Hebrew sentences, the smells and sights. But the pregnant ladies passing by every other minute had my heart.

What did they feel, as they strolled along, rubbing the large roundness of Baby within them? What would it be like to be That Pregnant Mama? What would it feel like to have only a short time left and then, the advent of a baby to my arms? What would it be like to linger over little baby clothes and be filled only with the feelings of eager anticipation, rather than the dull ache of remembering a tiny rough coffin in a nearby country, where a never-to-be-forgotten part of me was laying, buried under the dirt? Oh, the longing to ask That Pregnant Mama, what does it feel like to be you?? I long for that fullness in my womb, that satisfaction of being a safe place for a little child; that swelling of mommy-pride at the intensity of a strong kick from within!

_________________________________

Today, I look down at my belly. Just a little over one year has passed since the day I sat trying to swallow pizza and grief all in the same gulping motion. Today, my belly is big and round. Maybe this is what it feels like.

The fingers, toes, knees and elbows that jab and tickle, somersault and wiggle within me. The anticipation of the day I will get to meet my second child for the first time. Will she have brown eyes? Or will they be like her Daddy’s, which are always changing in their shades of green and blue and grey? Will she smile the day she is born, or will she mostly just cry a lot or look around with wide open eyes between naps? Will she nurse like it’s an instinct or will it come with sweat and tears? Will she be five-and-a-half-pounds like I was at birth, or will she be bigger, maybe seven-and-a-half, or more? Will she have her Daddy’s thin, wide smile or my thicker lips? Will she resemble any of her aunts or uncles very much? Will she look at all like her older brother Seth? Will she suck her thumb? Will she sleep at night? Will I have enough clothes for her in three months when she grows out of her abundance of newborn sizes? What will it feel like to be my “normal” size again? On the other hand, will I ever be that size again? Will anything in my closet fit me in a week or two? I can’t wait to share my little one with our families! Oh dear, I am feeling so hungry I can hardly think...

Maybe this is what it feels like, to be That Pregnant Mama.

As I remember back to the scene in Jerusalem which I described earlier and look at the hope blooming in me today, I am marveling at the miracle of new life. New delight and hope. God saw the longings of that grieving, weeping Mama-Heart and wept with me, while simultaneously making plans to allow me the privileged experience of being a pregnant mama again. It's so precious to realize that He was there with me. And the same God is here with me now, inhabiting this very September day.

I still grieve the loss of my firstborn and find myself in puddles of tears with the ache. With time however, the crumbles of brokenness can break into joy. It is possible to allow God’s sentinel of Faith to come up and stand in your soul where you can only see sadness and painful shards of your heart just now. Possible to imagine peering into this sadness of your soul someday, marveling at the past and current presence of the God in whom you decided to invest your trust. It's OK to dare to thank Him for the present brokenness as well as what He is dreaming for the future. 

Maybe this is what it feels like to swell with the trust and hope of seeing the goodness of God.

"Everything Passes"

"Let nothing trouble you; let nothing frighten you.
For everything passes, but God will never change.
Patient endurance will obtain everything.
Whoever has God, wants [lacks] for nothing at all.
God alone is enough.
God alone is enough.
Whoever has God, wants [lacks] for nothing at all."
-John Michael Talbot

https://youtu.be/phBB54jB7QE

Smack-dab in the middle of these current days, my heart has been soothed into deep assurance of the presence of the Lord and His perspective on this time through that song. I need those words right now. It's incredible how there are so many things that want to tempt my heart into unrestful ponderings and frightened imaginations. For me right now, there is the upcoming birth of our baby, due to arrive at any point in time in the next three (hopefully not four) weeks. My world is about to change! Our life will never be the same again. Am I ready? What will the birth be like? Will there be any complications or will everything go smoothly? Do I have everything I need? And, the most unnerving question of all, am I ready for life after birth?

I doubt anybody can be totally prepared for having another human being joining their home. True, I am much more ready now than I was a month or a week ago, but yet we have never actually met this person yet, and have so much to learn about life with her.

God is reminding me in His calm, restful way that everything passes; impending labor and birth...the following days and weeks of so much to learn and so many firsts...even the nights strung out in a looming marathon of staying up with a crying or hungry baby. Everything passes; but GOD will never change. As I sit here with my whopping belly, marveling at all the change I am experiencing in this one season of my life, the realization that my God will never change is like the feeling I get when I'm swimming and worn out, ready to collapse...and I let my toes sink...to feel solid ground beneath down under the water. Ahhh. I can stand. I can suck in a strengthening gulp of air; I can relax.

In just a few weeks, this long, long (llloooonnnnnnggg) season of pregnancy will be over. I can't be pregnant forever. I will be looking back on this time very soon. Even if I would have to face something unexpectedly difficult in this time, it too will be something I look back on one day. God will never change. He is faithful. We can rely and rest all our weight on His unfailing love. (see Psalm 33:18, NLT) I am sinking my soul into the restful steadiness I see in God. From His perspective, this is a season that will pass, and from His perspective, I'm going to be OK.

Wondering

I wonder…what it would be like to have lived a life without any pain, darkness; what it would be like to never have had tragedy’s black streak catapult across my life. I wonder…what it would be like to never have had my firstborn son be taken moments after leaving my womb away, away, far-far-away to a place where I cannot visit even when my heart is breaking with longing. I wonder what I would be like...

I wonder….what it would be like to go through this pregnancy I’m in right now without the tormenting emotions of self-doubt screaming,

“MAYBE YOU CAN’T DO THIS LIKE OTHER NORMAL WOMEN CAN! Maybe your womb is the contradiction of all things motherly and nurturing and will dump this little child too! Maybe your womb will refuse to carry your precious child before she can breathe or open her eyes on her own! Perhaps ‘incompetent, insufficient woman’ is a better name for you.” 

Oh, I wonder what it would be like to live without ever knowing the haunting of those ugly, ubiquitous thoughts… I wonder what it would be like to carry and give birth to children without a second thought as to your own competence and ability to do what every woman has been unmistakably made to do... I wonder.

I wonder what it would be like to have perfect health and never ever need to wonder if today you will feel strong and capable or if some little stress will overload you and you’ll end up melted on the couch, a weeping, confused and overwhelmed puddle of humanity.

I wonder…what it would be like to hear the happy twittering of summer birdsongs and not feel a pang of weeping loss that a darling little son so much like your husband is not there to giggle in the joy of the moment with you. I wonder…what it would be like to have had the desire of my heart completely fulfilled and our family on earth begun with the boy I longed for. I wonder what it would be like now, to watch him trying to take his first steps, crawling around my house, tasting watermelon and strawberries and pumpkins for the first time, making his daddy and I bubble over with sheer joy at his little accomplishments. I wonder.

I wonder…what it would be like to have no one in our little family already in heaven. No one already there to be ready to welcome us…home… I wonder how we would find time to look forward to all that Jesus is preparing for us in heaven if we didn’t have such a precious treasure living there already. I wonder how the ‘things that are above’ would lose their tangibility if we didn’t have a family member enjoying them this very moment.  And what it would be like to have never experienced the intense longing to see with my own eyes the comforting, contagiously victorious expression on the face of Jesus that can only be experienced through intense loss and grief? I wonder…what it would be like to face the future in the deficit of experiencing intense tribulation which in process of day after day, week after month after year gave the hard-earned gift (yes, GIFT) of patience.

I wonder what it would be like to be so strong in my own physical strength that I would never have even had the opportunity to feel desperately dependent upon the nature and resources of my God. I wonder what it would be like to mother a little girl without ever having gone through the pain of losing a child which gives you the gift of treasuring little children oh, so much more… I wonder what it would be like to become a mother without God having spoken over and over, in simple straightforward talk, that HE is the One that needs to be competent here and I am the one who has all I need in HIM alone… I wonder.

What do you wonder?

At the Gate

The time was set; the End had come

Earth’s battles fierce had just been won!

Heav’n’s Kingdom’s rule had just begun;

God’s people gathered to come home.

We all were there, expectantly,

Yet some had doubts, or fears, it seemed;

For as we looked up towards Heav’n’s Gate

We saw that questions chose our fate.

“When I am scrutinized, will I

The tests come past with colors high?

Or will I go to endless mourn

In deepest darkness, pain and scorn?”

These thoughts were deep; I wondered too

But then with clarity I knew:

Christ’s blood is all my Confidence!

Naught else could be a sure defense.

I knew I’d lived my life for Him,

In faith, not sight, earth’s treasures dim

And of my sins I’d honest been

In sight of God, and sight of men.

“Praise for the Blood!” I said with joy

“No need for any other ploy;

Christ’s blood has washed it all away!

No need for fears here on this day!”

The time drew near; our time was here!

My bro was first, his answer clear.

“I trust in Christ the best I know;

He’s washed me whiter than the snow.”

A smile flashed on Gate-man’s face

“Yes! Enter in! Come to your place!”

And now attention turned to me;

My body thrilled expectantly.

I waited as the gate-man smiled

Looked at his book, and said “My child

Your life is clear! Be of great cheer!

Come in, welcome, we know you here!”

I thrilled; I could’ve sang for joy!

I’d lived my life to see this day!

My stand for Christ in life on earth

Was known in Heav’n! What cause for mirth!

Before I’d time to enter in

A man came running from within

He thrust some money in my hand;

“Dimes, quarters? I don’t understand.”

But wait – this shiny currency

‘Twas not American! Oh, me!

Their words inscribed I read with awe:

This was not paltry change at all!

“Ten million”, not a dime, it said!

Each coin the same, in millions read

I looked up, puzzled, so the man

Began to help me understand.

“This is the first of much reward

That you have here in Heaven stored!

I have been sent with this foretaste,

To say your life was not a waste.”

I then recalled the little boy

Whose fee I’d payed for, and his joy

It all sunk in: the things I’ve done

Are repaid here, million for one!

Excitedly, I entered in,

To see my Jesus and begin

Exploring all in store for me

In glorious Eternity.

And then I woke – it was a dream.

I rubbed my eyes; so real it seemed!

And then I thrilled; oh, for the day

When Heav’n will rinse earth’s cares away!

And every thing I sacrificed

Will be repaid for by my Christ.

He sees it all! He sent this dream

To boost me, give my eyes a gleam.

Maybe He sent it for you, too

Though but a dream, its picture’s true

For in the Kingdom Jesus rules

The ones who lose to gain aren’t fools.

God sees us every day we live;

What things we choose, and how we give

When we arrive at Heaven’s door

May our clear lives have gone before!

Will we be those whose lives are known

And cheered for, around Heaven’s Throne?

Oh, let me live more faithfully

Until the day when faith shall “see”!

HNR

3.16.17

At the time I had this dream I had been struggling with who I am/how God sees me; this dream gave and gives me fresh courage and confidence to keep living each of these precious days for HIM, knowing that as I do, I am known in Heaven and will be unashamed when I reach The Gates!