Of Loss and Hope and Things Eternal...

I don't think I could possibly express everything that is in my heart, or all the things that God is showing me -  teaching me - over the last two weeks. It was the morning of Halloween when I learned that a kindergartner at my school had passed away the previous Friday; she was in my friend's mother's class. It is of course extremely sad when a child dies. As a mother, it is something that is almost unfathomable.

Even though the little girl had gone through three prior heart surgeries, she was off all medication and thriving at school. She was, according to her teachers, a precocious child who loved to ask questions. Her death was completely unexpected, and the family did not have the resources for the funeral expenses. Immediately, the school community rallied support for the grieving family. From there, a car wash was planned by our supervisors, one of them who had lost her own son at the age of five. A newspaper article brought attention to the support efforts.

The day of the car wash, it rained. But, no amount of precipitation could dampen the overwhelming support from the community (school, district, and city). We only washed 10 cars, but raised approximately $4700 in three hours. Every day last week, we would receive more support from people sending in funds from all over the Inland Empire. I was truly humbled to witness such support for this family.

I attended the vigil. I wasn't sure what to expect, but I knew in my heart that I needed to be there. What I witnessed was such a powerful testimony to the hope that this family had. In the midst of their unimaginable loss, was an abiding hope. They knew without a doubt that this life, however long or short, is not the end for those who are in Christ Jesus. Even with my limited understanding of Spanish, the message of salvation through words, prayer, scripture, and song was powerful and Spirit-led; it is something I will never forget.

The next day at the graveyard service was more somber, reserved; even the skies remained cloudy. But, you could not mistake the hope - hope that comes from knowing the eternal God - that was tangible. As tears were shed and the casket lowered into the ground, the words from the scriptures pierced my heart-heavy with Jesus' promises.

I sat alone during church today. I cried, not because I was particularly sad, but moreover because I was overwhelmed with God's grace and mercy. As I sat in the midst of the Body of Christ, I was reminded that any of us at any given time can be experiencing severe heartache. Life on this earth can be hard, but that's just it...Why does my heart sometimes forget that this life is a blink of an eye compared to eternity? I was reminded of the scripture I included in the card I gave to Paola's family.

From Psalm 84:
How lovely is your dwelling place,

O LORD Almighty!
My soul yearns, even faints,
for the courts of the LORD;
my heart and my flesh cry out
for the living God.
Better is one day in your courts

than a thousand elsewhere...

I am still processing many things, but tonight I am so very thankful for:

Salvation (and the blessed assurance we have)

God's truth (and His promises fulfilled)

God's peace (that can bring comfort to those who mourn)

The extended Body of Christ (and the godly examples that surround me)

So, as I close, I ask that you remember this family in your prayers, but also please pray for all of the families who mourn tonight without hope.

Time...

Time has been on my mind. Often I wonder where the time goes. The not-so-distant past feels like a far off memory. The change I was facing is now more of a routine. And I am thankful. Recently, I have had a few reminders of what was --the valley I was in-- and with that comes the flooding memories and the reminder of how traversing it all hurt deeper than I realized. I breathe in slowly as I strive to comprehend the depths of His grace, His hand in my life. And I am overwhelmed.

Three weeks ago tonight, my husband came home from work not feeling well. He was fatigued, aching all over, and feverish. He had a red patch on his side.The urgent care doctor confirmed my suspicions: cellulitis. They gave him an IV dose of antibiotics and a prescription. He was supposed to go back the next day for a final dose of IV antibiotics, but a mere twelve hours later, he had taken a turn for the worse. The area on his side had tripled in size, and he was running a fever of over 103 degrees; he was almost unresponsive.

He was hospitalized for five days. The doctors were baffled at the severity of the infection. Initially, he wasn't responding to treatment. The infection spread for another two days until they tried a different combination of antibiotics. When they sent him home, he continued with his IV infusions for another eleven days.

After he had been home for a few days, he came to a stunning realization: this infection was serious, it was life-threatening, and it could have taken his life.

But, it didn't. That was my response to him. It didn't.

So, what does that mean? What does that really mean to all of us that wake up each day with new opportunities. None of us are guaranteed a tomorrow. So, in light of this truth, how will you spend your todays? Some days I fall so miserably short of the mark. Some days I am selfish and do not put others before myself. Some days I speak harsh words instead of kind. Some days I behave like I am not His, like my life hasn't already been purchased with a sacrifice so complete that it demands my everything.

I once read that we need to own our minutes and days, lest they turn into months and years and we didn't even realize it. It is so easy to get caught up with our day-to-day commitments. But, in the day-to-day, I want to live out this one life, the only one I get on this earth, with purpose.

This was the main scripture for today's sermon:

1 Peter 4:7-11

The end of all things is near. Therefore be alert and of sober mind so that you may pray. Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins. Offer hospitality to one another without grumbling. Each of you should use whatever gift you have received to serve others, as faithful stewards of God’s grace in its various forms. If anyone speaks, they should do so as one who speaks the very words of God. If anyone serves, they should do so with the strength God provides, so that in all things God may be praised through Jesus Christ. To him be the glory and the power for ever and ever. Amen.

Pregnant

Feeling stagnate is complicated; when it is stripped bare, complacency lingers. One may wonder how someone can become stagnant while experiencing change. Yet, that is exactly where I have found myself the last few weeks. I could not anticipate how this week of waiting would become so hard.

Change, even welcome change, is stressful. There are new possibilities, but also many unknowns. Through this transition from one place to another, from one season to another, I have sought God and received His gracious mercy and peace. I know that His timing has been perfect, so why the seemingly unnecessary, complicated feelings?

Even when we have our answers, it is in the waiting where we need to remember and embody the fruit of the spirit that is patience. I couldn't agree more with Tom Petty: You take it on faith, you take it to the heart. The waiting is the hardest part.

One of my friends, Joy, is trying to wait patiently for the arrival of a son. I have the honor of supporting her during her labor, so I, too, wait. I have my phone with me at all times. I sleep with it next to my head, ready for a possible 2am call. I wait. Anxiously. Expectantly.

As I was reflecting this morning, God spoke to my heart. There is something to this waiting that prepares us. There is something to the in between times that causes us to cling a little closer to our heavenly father like a child clings to a parent for reassurance.

And it then becomes so clear that the cure for stagnation is anticipation. I think about the alternate definition of pregnant: to have rich implications; to have possibilities. As long as we have breath, our lives are full of pregnant possibilities. And then comes the teaching (I am so glad that God doesn't tire of teaching me and showing me His goodness over and over): God is continually trying to birth new things in me, but let's face it, labor is hard. How would it look differently in my life if I treated the pregnant possibilities He graciously gives me with the same excited anticipation?

And I don't have the answer this evening, but my heart feels undeniably pregnant with anticipation for what will come.

Hemmed in...

"You hem me in—behind and before; you have laid your hand upon me."~ Psalm 139:5

I was born in this city. I grew up here and still call this place home. In fact, I live within about two blocks from both of my main childhood homes. When June was ushered in, I began taking evening walks through the various streets that surrounded me; the streets of my childhood.

The streets are filled with my past: houses; the lantana and hibiscus; the driveway of my elementary bus stop; my junior high; circuitous paths explored with friends; bike rides (and falls); echoing trains; seasons strung into years; girl into woman.

 Much remains unchanged. I breathe in dusk air, close my eyes and yearn deep to be in a time that came even before. A time with milkmen, gardens and clotheslines. He was there. He has gone before all things. He has hemmed it all in - all in this spinning planet.

And I have been here before, too, with He who is I AM. There is such comfort in the remembering. There is comfort for those who are hemmed in.

And just as many things have remained unchanged, there are just as many things that are constantly changing. There are new buildings among the old. The population has nearly doubled since my birth. There is a weak economy here and with it weak people, neglected elderly, homeless families, abused children. Brokenness.

That in which should be strengthened has been allowed to lie fallow, barren. The redemption of Christ, which doesn't promise to remove hardships, but to hem in, to go before and behind, is let lie fallow. And then I see it, a house I remember from my youth, allowed to lie fallow, neglected.

I peer long at the boards and overgrowth. A place of old in need of pruning, restoration. And the God that has gone before truth-whispers. And isn't this why you needed a Savior?

And there is hope, restoration, and pruning for the hemmed in.

As I walk the streets of my childhood, I see Him there, for He is with me always. And I exhale and feel His hand upon me.

A Beginning: My First Forty

It is hard having a friend who lives so very far away. It is even harder when that friend is in a deep valley. A few months ago, I received a package in the mail from my sweet friend Amy, who is going through her own valley. It was a book that she had said had helped her immensely: One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp.

I looked at the cover and was intrigued, but I was having a hard time just getting through each day. So, it sat for some time, collecting dust, just as I was allowing my spirit to become dust-covered as well.

Days went on, and I felt like I couldn't breathe for the sheer weight of it all. I looked at the cover of the book one evening, and it read, "A dare to live fully right where you are". Something about that statement caught me off guard. Maybe because I had been going throught the motions and felt as if I truly hadn't been living. Not fully. So, I began reading, and although I am not finished yet, this is what was birthed:

From my journal:

My journey to one thousand gifts begins today. I am taking the challenge. I sense deep in my spirit that I need this more than I can fully understand. All I know is that this season - this harsh winter - has hardened my heart and soul. Somewhere I have sacrificed joy. I want to live out the life that God has for me. And I know that this isn't it, this looking for curses and being comsumed with fear and anxiety. So, I look to my Jesus and breathe and count...

1. A dare
2. Hymns that echo ancient truths
3. Light rain, cool  breeze and sun through clouds
4. New mercies each morning
5. More rain to wash away the impurities
6. Smiles from kind faces
7. Art with my studemts
8. Yummy lunch brought by co-workers
9. Turning our cable off (more time)
10. Cuddly babies
11. fulfilling a need - being a servant
12. Love given by a picked flower on his way home
13. Husband taking out trash
14. Time with Jaden - he's growing up so fast
15. The full moon resting upon the dark clouds - striking!
16. A pillow to rest my weary head
17. Birds singing their innnate praise
18. Blue skies and clean air
19. The privilege of working for a godly man of integrity
20. Breath prayers that refocus
21. Pandora at work
22. A card saying that I am amazing <3
23. Laughing with friends
24. Bible study
25. Fridays
26. Weekend plans with friends and fro yo
27. Hot coffee to combat sluggush mornings
28. Being tested - knowing God has a purpose for it all
29. All the ways in which people are being the hands and feet of Jesus to my family
30. A Christian office mate
31. Rejoicing with those who rejoice
32. Baby Mason, Joy's prayed-for gift, who is 28 weeks in utero and healthy- can't wait to meet him!
33. Grace and second chances
34. Being accepted and loved for me
35. Documentaries
36. A glimpse of seeing God at work, which  bolsters my hope
37. Glenn's paycheck that will allow me to buy groceries today
38. The verse of the day that reinforces this: Always be joyful. Never stop praying.
39. God sustaining Erinn, so now she can rest
40. Contentment in the chaos

So, I keep my eyes and heart open and count on...

When

When the world doesn't make sense. When it feels like a flood has swept through, taking the sacred low. When little boys cry over dead rats, lost dogs and a deep disdain for what is. And when a mama swallows her own tears, chokes them back for another time unseen, and hushes sad boy with words of comfort she only half-heartedly believes herself.

When uncertainty reigns. When the valley is relentless and there are no mountaintops in sight. When everything is heavy and hope diminished. When there are no words. When it feels like this weary soul can't breathe for it's all heavy. When words seems meaningless. When sleep won't come. When it feels like there is nothing because family reminds of the lacking. When finding joy is challenging like remembering parts of a dream almost forgotten.

When all of it is too much, she cries out to be rescued from the only One who could ever save her. When she feels like ashes are being heaped upon her, she waits for the beauty. When she feels like she has nothing, she clings to promises unbroken.

Being used...

So, I am in a funk. And in this state, I have been pondering things as I often do. Why is it so easy for me to feel completely defeated? I mean, seriously? Is it the longevity of this season; have I truly just given up? No, not really, but you might not know that by my behavior.

Am I tired? Sure, I am tired. I would even say that I am discouraged. It's hard to admit that I am having a hard time being thankful, but there you have it. I will even go further to say that in my flesh I am even jealous of others: their Christian spouses, financial security, homes, cars, careers, talents, vacations, Disneyland passes, you name it...(anything that makes me feel less than; worthless).

And I am virtually useless in this state save for grace. I realize that I am like Moses focusing on my "But I couldn't possibly" responses, when God is speaking to my spirit saying, "Yes, you will, because I have purposed you for this." And I am not exactly sure what "this" is, but I know exactly what it is not.

So, I am reminded that I am already victorious; it is in my weakness that His power is perfected, and I cry out for maranatha!

It doesn't matter how broken I am (and I am pretty broken). Jesus entered the brokenness to make whole (eventually). And I marvel at the thought of what could be if I truly focused on my response and trusted God with the details and outcome. Too often I let voices sabotage me by reminding me of all the ways in which I am less than. I accept defeat and failure as inevitable before I even attempt anything. My inaction isn't building up the kingdom, nor is it allowing God to be glorified in my life (ouch!).

So, I pray that my heart will continue to change. In this season, which has been such a season of loss for me, I desire to be used. I want to glorify God with everything. I want to know what it means to honestly say that the joy of the Lord is my strength. I want to be bold in my faith and open to the new things that God is calling me to, which are out of my comfort zone (that's for sure). And in all of this, we know that we are more than conquerors (standing on the truth in Romans 8 - such a powerful chapter!).

Amen and amen.