New Words..... Familiar Love... Perfect

Early this morning, before the sun came up, I was jolted awake with a painfully not-so-kind reminder that I am in the trenches of a celiac relapse due to gluten exposure that happened a week ago. Simply put: a relapse means titanic pain (especially after eating, once the food begins passing through the small intestine), eventual fatigue, lots of laying down, and unpleasant digestive outbursts of every kind. 

I spent much of those early hours between our tiny bathroom and living room floor. (Thankful for both!)

Our 5th wheel is divided into basically two studio apartments. One upstairs, and one downstairs. The kitchen and bathroom areas are shared. This gives our daughter the privacy she needs, and works great for the circumstance we find ourselves in. Super grateful. 

BUT... When I'm dealing with a physical trial of this magnitude... Well, there really is no privacy. Not completely any way. And certainly not for my sweet husband. 

NEWSFLASH: It isn't easy AT ALL being married to someone with multiple chronic health issues. Nope. Not one bit. 

So, as Rick was getting some much deserved sleep on the sofa with one of the pups, I cuddled up to the heater and our other pup who was looking much like a scoop of cafeteria mashed potatoes plopped into his dog bed. 

As I was sitting there, waiting for the next abdominal prompt to head to the restroom.... I looked down and noticed all my dress shoes nestled carefully near the heater. At the same moment I heard Rick's soft breathing from behind me on the couch. 

And then I rememebered how he had taken my shoes that had been stored in a cubby that started to have a mildew issue and sterilized them outside. He then brought them in to completely dry by the heater. 

Outside in the cold, wet, windy weather.

 

My dress shoes that I rarely ever wear because my left foot and ankle were forever changed in my car accident 4 years ago. 

And he was already tired when we discovered the mildew issue last evening. 

Inside my head, my life has a sound track. Much like a movie. But I don't have any say, really, about which songs play at any given moment. 

The song that came this morning as I pondered the sacrifical love of my man was.... 'So This Is Love', from Disney's original Cinderella film. Soft and sweet, it floated through my soul like a feather on a summer breeze.  

The reminder gently shook loose other recent memories of this man and his reflection-of-Jesus love for me...

Endless bowls of soft foods this last week, (read OATMEAL). Walking at a much slower pace in the grocery store, then having to wait patiently while I stop to get a picture of the sweetest, teensy, hot pink flower. Rolling down his window so I can get a good shot of a view I love with all my heart, so I don't have to stand out in the windy cold weather.

The list could go on and on, but these were the beauties that came to warm my heart and comfort my mind in that moment on the rug this morning. 

The last 4 years have been some of the most incomprehensibly hard I could ever have imagined. 

I thought I would never really write again, paint again, play again.....

But so often in life, if something that is broken is given what it needs to heal... It heals so much STRONGER. 

I'm here to say that we are living it. Even in... No, ESPECIALLY in these most difficult times. 

Thank you JESUS for this gift I have in a man named Rick Spears. 

For reminding me, in the sweetest of ways, of all the strong healing You have done and will do. 

So this is love.... Mm mm Mmm Mm.... So this IS Love....... 💗

(He held all the dogs while I took that one too.) 💗🐾

Prone to Worry

I am prone to worry.

There, I said it.

As someone who thinks a lot, and I mean A LOT... my mental train can jump it's tracks and be on the treacherous slope of worry in short order if I don't keep my thoughts in check.

Daily.

Sometimes minute by minute... or second by second.

There is someone in my life that I love with every drop of my blood, every beat of my heart, every cell... and that person is so broken. So wounded and struggling.

It's gut wrenching.

If I dwell on that circumstance without including the Lord in the equation I begin to sink into the quicksand of hopelessness.

I found myself sinking just recently.

My praying was more like begging:

"Lord, I'd give up this or that.... or stop this or that.... or do this or that.... if only you'd step in and do something!!"

I was literally on the verge of hysteria in the most silent way possible as we sped down the highway. Thankfully it was dark and our youngest son was asleep in the back seat.

I was biting the inside of my lip to keep from violently weeping.

The sensation was like my own flesh and blood heart being ripped ever so slowly right in two...

Then I heard His reply:

"I did do something. I did it all. I gave it all, my very life, for the one you weep over. I am doing something, right this very moment, trust me. Trust me."

 And the tears came...

I cried the tears of relief that always come when I remember Whose I am... Who is in control...

When the voice of the Lord speaks truth that clears the heavy darkness and lets the fresh air of His love in.

What a gift to me.

So I thanked Him, and prayed a prayer placing this precious one back at His feet.

I read this quote a few days later and it has been on the merry-go-round of my thoughts ever since:

Yeah.

I've been mulling that over for 2 weeks, and I'm sure I'm not done yet.

My thought life is always borne of my beliefs.

Always.

When I first read the quote I asked myself:

"Do I really believe that God won't get it right with this person?"

I didn't like my answers.

Fear is an ugly, mean, strangling task master.

I lived under it's whip for most of my life.

For the past several years I have experienced greater and greater freedom from it's grip.

It's really more like an annoying pest most days.

But when it comes to this person I can almost hear the crack of that whip again.

Do I really believe that God won't get it right with this one?

Really?

NO. I really don't believe that.

I believe that He will win.

That in the end, even if it is long and excruciating, He will be Lord of ALL.

Just as He is now.

There is no one, nothing, outside His vision.

No person beyond His grasp.

No pain greater than His comfort.

And no trespass greater than His sacrifice.

Not one.

I believe that.

All of it.

My own life is proof of it.

My prayer now goes like this:

Lord, I believe that you will get it right with this person that I love. Please help me to trust you more and to obey your promptings. Thank you that your love is greater. Amen

The quote is posted in a very visible place for me to remember what I'm reinforcing when I choose to worry.

So the next time I hear something alarming, have a bad dream, am alone in the quiet with hard memories and nagging regrets....

I will choose to believe He is who He says He is.

I will choose to believe that He will do what He says He will do.

Will you?

'Til Death Do Us Part.... I thank God for you Rick Spears

It's Friday morning at our house.

Fifteen times...

Can that be right?

I know I heard it fifteen times...

That familiar whoosh and quick inhale of air that marks my asthmatic husband using his rescue inhaler.

I can tell when I look into his eyes that I heard correctly.

His pupils are dilated, I can see the pulse in the artery running down his right temple...

He's scared.

But when I ask him about it he says, "I think I'm okay.... I just can't get a full breath."

And so we begin the dance of knowing how to read his facial expressions and how to listen to his respiration rather than the tight words he struggles to get out...

He insists that we go ahead and follow through with the music that we are scheduled to play at the 55+ Senior retreat at Warm Beach Camp.

I know better than to try and force him otherwise.

He uses the inhaler a handful of times on the way...

His cough has been consistent for several days, a yearly head cold?

It's always so hard to tell with asthma...

I'm amazed that we get through our last song, but we both were praying that we would...

We gather our things, drop our mom off at home, and head straight to Urgent Care.

His breathing sounds thicker... harder... 

He uses the inhaler several more times before we arrive....

Once there they rush us right into a room and start a breathing treatment...

The first of two.

They don't help much at all.

I sit in the plastic chair in the exam room holding my purse, he's on the table holding the breathing treatment tube...

His blood pressure and heart rate is in a range that warrants the barrage of questions from the nurse about chest pain, pressure, squeezing....

I listen for his answers more intently than she does.

No.

No pain, no pressure, no squeezing.

Well, at least there's no immediate cardiac issue.

But he still can't breathe.

The medically analytical part of my mind is scanning like wild for possible insight.

I come up with nothing.

The emotional part of me is on pause as I try to stay absolutely calm while the doctor asks about past intubation for asthma...

I've seen people on a vent.

I try not to think about it.

I look at my husband and I feel like I am a thousand miles away behind 3 foot Plexiglas.

I'm not used to not being able to help.

There's nothing I can do except remain calm and reassuring... and pray.

So I do those things with all I have.

I shoot the occasional text to two dear sister-friends that are praying with us every step.

And we wait.

I can tell that the doctor is doing what she believes is best.

And usually the breathing treatments work.

But not this time.

They administer steroids, (the side-effects made the asthma worse), and we wait some more.

We are told we will be discharged, our instructions are to take the meds as prescribed and head to the ER if he spirals downward again.

He's still not breathing much better.

Weird thoughts fly through my head...

Like...

The garage is a disaster... I can't possibly take care of it alone.

The lawn tractor is still broken, how am I going to figure out how to put the new part on?

Why did I nag him so much about posture?

I should have smiled more.

Why did I ever complain about anything?

He is the nicest person I've ever known...

Have I loved him with all my heart like I promised on our wedding day?

Why did I doubt, or fear, or worry?

I should have put him first all the time.....

I am so selfish, and ungrateful, and over committed...

Oh God please let him breathe.

Let him live.

Help us....

And you know, He is.

Rick's breathing has gone from a 3.5 on a scale from 1-10 (with 10 being normal breathing) to a 7.5 currently.

He's gotten more sleep the last two nights.

The antibiotic that's on board is addressing the infection that was causing the asthma to be so awful.

And the rescue inhaler is working.

This experience has shaken me to the core. Us to the core.

I have spent hours in repentance and tears, and then thanking the Lord over and over and over for another chance with new mercies to be more of the wife he has called me to be.

My husband is my greatest treasure on this Earth. No human has ever loved me and cared for me like he has.

He has embraced me at my most fragile and loved my children and I beyond what I could ever have imagined.

I wouldn't wish to repeat Friday ever again, but I am so grateful that the Lord uses even the most terrifying moments of our lives to bring about good.

When I married Rick I had no idea what love was. Real love. Sacrificial love that gives and doesn't think about reciprocity.

I have learned so much about who God is and how He loves me through the fierce devotion and gentle love of this man I am humbled to call my husband.

He is precious to me beyond what I could ever express.

Thank you Lord for your mercy toward us.

Let me never forget it. 

 

Denouncing Disappointment

I'm done being disappointed.

There, I said it.

One definition of disappointment is: "the feeling of sadness or displeasure caused by the nonfulfillment of one's hopes or expectations."

Sadness.

Displeasure.

Nonfulfillment.

I've had sleepovers with these three more often than I would care to recount.

'...one's hopes or expectations.'

I think therein lies the real issue.

Where do I place my hope?

And what do I expect in any given situation, from any relationship, from myself?

Disappointment is a real destination. There's no debate about that.

But my pattern has been to set my watch, my calendar, my thoughts, my attitude, maybe even my GPS to the melancholy metronome of disappointment.

It's not that I'm not qualified to be disappointed.

I've got a laundry list longer than some of reasons why I should wear the Dismally Disappointed jersey...

Divorce
Disease
Rejection
Awful Choices
Awful Consequences
Pain
Lots of Pain....

And wear it I did, for a LONG time... far too long.

Number 75, that's me.

40 years of reasons to dwell in disappointment.

But I'm not gonna do it anymore.

The prefix "dis" means, 'to utterly reverse, to negate'.

And the word "appoint" is defined as, 'to name or assign to a position'.

Who or What have I allowed to utterly negate my position?

What is my position anyway?

As a follower of Jesus I am positionally loved, positionally clean, positionally forgiven, redeemed, restored....

Positionally hopeful in things that never change.

Like Heaven

Like Hope

Like Jesus' outstretched hand that never shrinks back regardless of my circumstance.

New Question:

Who or What can utterly negate my position?


The only right response is this:

No one

and

Nothing.

If I have been appointed by God Himself, who never changes, then there is nothing and no one who can change his decision.

Period.

Now back to Disappointment being a real destination.

Our definition said that disappointment is a 'feeling' that involves sadness or displeasure.

I agree.

Disappointment is most certainly a feeling.

And feelings are real to be sure.

But what  I have found is that feelings are good at taking direction.

Taking direction from our choices and focus.

I spent a lot of years making choices based on my feelings only to find myself in a constant merry-go-round of nauseating consequences for myself and everyone around me.

But one day while in a deep valley of illness I had the realization that my choices dictated my feelings. Making choices based on my feelings was like trying to keep catching the same soap bubble I had blown and recycling it endlessly... they just aren't made to work that way.

And neither are we.

It works like this:

Our beliefs dictate our thoughts.

Our thoughts dictate our attitudes.

Our attitudes dictate our choices.

Our choices dictate our feelings.

Our feelings dictate our behavior.

And our behavior dictates our circumstances.

Whew.

Feelings come in on the list WAY down the line, which is really good news.

It means that we have a lot we can do about what kind of feelings we have and how much they affect us.

This is AWESOME news for me.

My feelings had been such a horrid slave driver because they had been allowed to be out of the order of command.

Like a young dog in a pack that suddenly finds himself the Alpha Male... He doesn't have what it takes to really do the job well.

Neither do my feelings.

Disappointment wasn't meant to be at the helm.

My beliefs are.

Better yet, Who I place my belief in is...

Captain Jesus.

So away with you Disappointment!!

I am only temporarily REappointed at best...

Appointed to pray, to love, to hope in the One who has appointed me in the first place.

Denouncing Disappointment....

Join me?

Breaking the Silence... with Love...

It's been months since I've written anything here.

There's lots of reasons for that. Some good, some just... reasons.

The Holidays are always heavy for me, always.

Heavy with memories of hard times, good times, bittersweet times.

Heavy with heart ache.

Heavy with grief.

Grief that is growing instead of lessening as time moves on.

Heavy with schedules, and performing, and gifts... and food.

(Food is another blog for another time... oh yeah.)

Holiday time is heavy with the weight of sacrifice and gratitude for Jesus life, and death.

And at the close of the Holiday season, at least for the last several years, comes severe health issues.

Apparently my Auto-Immune Disease doesn't like the heaviness of the Holidays...

Last year at about this time I was in Scripps Hospital in San Diego.... they were ruling out a possible stroke or heart attack.

Not Good.

This year, I recognized the change in my biological weather before it hit hurricane status and we caught things before they were completely out of control again.

I mean, they were out of control for sure, but not to the degree that I needed to be in the hospital.

(Photo Credit: My 13yo son, The Squid)

So off for lots of testing.

And now we wait.

I can't count how many times my life has felt out of control.

My choices out of control.

My eating out of control.

My family out of control.

My reactions out of control.

My circumstances out of control.

And then it hit me...

My Saviour is never out of control.

He is always, ever, continually in control.

And peace rushes in like fresh air on the Oregon Coast...

I can rest in Him because He knows it all.

He knows how all this started, where it's going, and how it ends.

If I quiet myself to spend time with Him he gives me insight into how to navigate these waters and assures me that He is with me all the while.

His banner over me is love... even if I'm laid up in bed with bones that don't know what they want to do, or not do.

It's an interesting life for sure, full of way more good than bad, living with auto-immune disease and other health issues that really like to give me a run for my money... But I know this more than ever, that He is TRULY in control. That He loves me and wants the very best for my life, even if it doesn't look that way to me... especially if it doesn't look that way to me.

Gratitude washes off the grime of years spent focusing on elaborate lies cloaked in fear.

The Lord has built a step ladder out of thousands upon thousands of daily love gifts to me that allows me to peek over the wall of health issues... and the view is stunning.

I'm surrounded by miracles.

I don't have to look far and I see them, talk with them, walk around in them, hold them in my arms, watch them play football, listen to their coos as they nod off to sleep on my lap....

Jesus has been so good to me, good for me, good around me.

He is so good. 

I'm thankful for His guiding hand, His light for this path, His healing here or There... For Him.

For His endless love gifts all along the way.

And for opening my eyes to see them.

Life gets heavy for sure, but it never outweighs His love.

Never.

Does your housekeeper love you?

Okay, most of us average people don't have a housekeeper.

But we do have the Barista that we see regularly.

Or maybe that cashier at our favorite store.

Or the Librarian that has been wearing the same vintage glasses since they were in fashion the first time....

Perhaps the person that comes to mind is someone who you've gone to Zumba with for over a year now... Works in the cubicle next to yours... Sits directly behind you at church every Sunday... Lives on your block... Drives your child's bus... Has your same last name and the eyes of your Grandfather... Or maybe even placed a ring on your finger and made promises to you that echo into forever...

I woke up one morning last week with this partial verse running through my head on repeat:
"Do everything as unto the Lord...." (Col. 3:23)

It went round and round and round.... and then it stopped.

The echo that remained was the word EVERYTHING.

I got up from my bed and headed to the bathroom to get ready for my day and a new thought stream began to flow....

Everything as unto the Lord....

As unto the Lord....

Get out of bed as unto the Lord.

Look at my reflection as unto the Lord.

Choose my clothing as unto the Lord.

Take in the beauty of Autumn outside my window as unto the Lord.

Listen to my children roaming through the house as unto the Lord.

and then...

Complain as unto the Lord?

Stress about the future as unto the Lord?

Criticize my husband as unto the Lord?

Procrastinate as unto the Lord?

Focus on constant negativity as unto the Lord?

Harbor unforgiveness as unto the Lord?

Put off what I know I should do NOW as unto the Lord?

WAIT.....

I looked in to the mirror. Really looked hard at my reflection there.

I asked the Lord, "Why? Why is it that I struggle with focus? That I forget daily that everything I do is AS UNTO YOU. An offering to you, my daily gift to you. Why do I struggle with hanging on to these things, avoiding these things, training my eyes to look in one direction when I feel you calling me in another... why?"

And the answer came so quickly I had to hold onto the counter to keep from buckling under the truth of it....

UNBELIEF.

The word flashed on a white canvas in my mind in 50 different fonts and every color I have ever imagined....

...but the last time it landed, right in the middle of the mess, it was bold and red and BIG....

UNBELIEF

I took a sharp breath in, not in shock or surprise, but with familiarity. Like being confronted with an old bully from Jr. High. My gut turned over and I felt that old sense of failure and captivity that comes with that word.

Unbelief.

It has manifested itself in so many ways in my life. So many levels. Subtle. Flagrant. Sophisticated. Grungy. As quiet as a whisper and as loud as a fog horn.

We are not strangers.

I came down the stairs to start the day with a heart tuned to the voice of the One I say I believe in.

And oh I do. I believe...

I felt much like the father in that story in Mark chapter 9....

 “I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!”

I believe in the Lord, I believe that He came and died on a cross and rose again on the 3rd day and is preparing a place for all those who believe....

Believe...

Belief...

Unbelief.

There I was again. That word.

So I did what wordy people do... I looked it up.

And here's what jumped at me when I did, 

Unbelief-
In the Greek: apistia: unbelief
Part of Speech: noun, feminine
Definition: unfaithfulness, distrust

Ouch.

Another word that felt more like a void that cold winds blow through...
  
Trust-
Definition: firm belief in the reliability, truth,
ability, or strength of something or someone
Synonyms: confidence, belief, faith, certainty,
assurance, conviction, credence, reliance


 Do we have to go here again? This crevasse that I can't cross. This exercise that only highlights my total inability to complete Even One REP... It's not that I don't want to. I DO. I always have... I, just, well... I don't know how.

Trust is earned. Trust is given. Trust is modeled....

But it's always felt like trust is an enigma. A mystery. The Unicorn grazing peacefully while crystal rainbows form in perfect circles above her pristine white mane.... 

Yes... No...WAIT......

Trust is belief. 

Belief is trust. 

Unbelief is Distrust.

Distrust is Unbelief.

Oh me. 

When will this never ending cycle ever end?

I'm cruising along through life and everything is going just great and then one morning I wake up and I'm challenged. Challenged by the Lord.

This isn't the first morning like this. No. I've had many. But the usual M.O. is to get busy doing things that don't highlight the myriad of reasons why my Trust button doesn't work.

Who wants to sit and think about all that junk? 

But on this particular morning, all those familiar painful memories flew by my mind like cards being shuffled. Slow enough for me to recognize them, but fast enough that the usual feelings attached to them didn't have time to land.

Mercy...

Again.... "I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief."

My unbelief.

My broken trust.

My lack of confidence, certainty, conviction....

Where do I find the key Lord? The key to unlock my unbelief?

...and the answer floated down like a feather from a clear blue sky...

forgiveness...
 Ahhh.... now this is a muscle I'm familiar with.

Sore from use in forgiving myself for so much sin that I once held like a blanket and now hate with the very fibers of my being. 

But the Lord had some specific forgiving in mind... He began to bring to memory situations that I hadn't thought about in decades. 

Horrible, gruesome, true memories of cruelty and evil.

And in those memories certain frames would stop, stark and still, and in THOSE moments the Lord would say "Forgive there. Right then. Forgive and pray. Forgive now."

So I did.

In my minds eye, I looked right into the eyes of both of the people that the Lord brought to mind. In THOSE moments... and I forgave. It was like a paralysis being reversed. 

Tears came. I prayed as I felt led to, and I sensed light shining into places that had long been dark.

"I do believe (trust); help me overcome my unbelief (distrust)."

Jesus is reliable. I know that well. He has never let me down, He never will. He can't... it's not in His nature. 

 I know that He is trustworthy. I have trusted in Him for many things. For my salvation. For my healing. For the lives and eternal lives of my loved ones. For the very breath I breathe.

 Do everything as unto the Lord. 

Everything.... Lord. It's all yours. 

Release my past as unto the Lord.

Walk my remaining days redeemed as unto the Lord...

I went back to the Strongs Exhaustive Bible Concordance Online and looked up forgiveness...

Forgiveness-
Definition: release from bondage or imprisonment,
to pardon, the cancellation of a debt
Part of speech: noun, feminine
Synonyms: pardon, excuse, extend mercy

I went back and forth between the definitions of unbelief and forgiveness.... I couldn't help but notice that both were nouns in the feminine form...

The feminine form...

Which feminine form do I want to be?

I have had the opportunity to witness many believing, trusting, faith-filled women in my life. Many are my friends and loved ones. I am honored to know them and blessed to have the examples to follow...

One such woman is my friend Jenni Sprunger.

She chooses to be a believer. A truster. She chooses to have faith in the face of heartbreaking trial and tragedy...

Face your husband's inoperable brain tumor as unto the Lord.

I see her determination to love her Lord and love her man no matter what, and I see the feminine form I want to be.

Another woman is a sweet sister in Christ that just went home to Jesus last week.

Joyce Hamilton Graham...

She battled vicious bladder cancer and faced it with a smile and love for her friends and family that shined the love of God like sunrise over the Grand Canyon.

The testimonies of her love and joy and faith in the steadfast redemption of Jesus at her memorial yesterday are another example of the feminine form I want to be.

I sat next to her housekeeper of a decade and watched as tears rolled down this young woman's face at the loss of such a gracious and genuine lover of God and His people.

Her housekeeper loved her.

The young moms she mentored loved her.

Her god children, grandchildren, grown children loved her.

Her husband loved her.

Right up until the very end she was loving on people...

Live a life of love even when you're facing your own death as unto the Lord.

I don't have a housekeeper. But if I did, I want to be the feminine form that she would love. 

Because I'm a believer, a truster, a forgiver. 

Because Jesus loves me, helps me, gives me the strength to be the feminine form he made me to be....

Yes. 

I 
     do
             believe. 

First Breath

I am a Grandmother. 

I have loved, and do love, so many little people as if they were my flesh and blood. They are counted as some of my very greatest blessings. 

Little smiles, little toes, unruly curls, wide eyes, dirty faces, and oh that heavy warm weight in your arms when they finally.... FINALLY fall asleep. 

I love them. All these little people in my life. Gifts from God Himself. 

The most awesome privilege has been having grandchildren that look like people you love. People your heart and soul and flesh and blood are tied to. 

At this writing I have 2 amazing grandsons... Both came into my life by way of Love. 

One lives near and the other far. 

Baby B carries traces of faces that I have carried in my own reflection all my life. Toddler E carries in his frame hints of the man who tends my heart so gentle and true. 

I held my breath on the days these little men came into the world. In a waiting room in one city, assisting pushes with a sister Gramma in another. The awe I felt in seeing the faces in those places, the pacing I'm so prone to, the need for prayer, the lack of sleep, the deep rest after all were tucked in so tired... The same. 

That sense of being so close to the Creator and His handiwork... The tangible miraculous that's left behind in those places where humanity has been pushed to its brink and the most beautiful has come from the most excruciating. 

There are nearly no words to describe the honor. 

Hot tears, dark circles, fervent prayer, nights spent in hotels far from home or on hard cold hospital furniture. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting...

...and then the cry!

The breath! 

The flood of relief and surge of incredible joy! 

The news coming fast by text to a row of Grandparents waiting with smart phones poised to rocket messages of the miracle to family and friends the world over. 

Incredible gift. 

My throat gets tight, tears come, and I close my eyes to breathe out Thank You...

Merciful, gracious, extravagant Giver.

These once blind eyes see Your hand...

Oh look what Love has done.