We're MOVING!!!!!!!!!!

So, I've been a little MIA this year, ok ALOT.  That usually means ALOT is going on behind the scenes either physically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually, or all of the above.  Let's just say this last year has been all of the above.

And I started to save this big news for the yearly Christmas letter, but it was just too much, so here I am with plenty of unlimited space to tell the whole story because quite frankly it's taken me all year to really process it anyway=)

In July of 2014, our family of four will be moving to Irvine, California. Sunny, southern California.

California?  What?  Am I not a Cobb County Georgia peach born and bred?  Does not every immediate family member on every side of mine and Joey’s family (minus a handful) live within an hours’ radius of Atlanta?  Isn’t California a 5-hour plane ride away on an opposite coast?  Yes.  On all accounts, yes.  Yet, I can’t wait to go!

How you ask?  How did God convince this Georgia girl--who never wanted anything, but to raise her children around her immediate family, who never wanted anything but for her children to grow up with their cousins and aunts and uncles and grandparents all just around the corner—how did He convince me to move to California?

Step one: God humbled me severely.  Like "I-needed-antidepressants" severely.  2012 was a rough year.

But then, step two: He restored me fully.  I'm talking a fullness of joy and freedom I haven't felt in years, but I warn you it only came at the end of some intense counseling.

Step three: He took me through the book of Genesis for a year in BSF and showed me how all the great men and women of promise all followed a similar path.  He taught me--IS teaching me--how to trust Him.  He showed me through Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and Joseph that nothing is too big for Him to dream for you, and then He showed me that He, Creator God, would give me a big dream and that He would fulfill it in His time, in His way, for His glory.  And I started to get excited!

It’s funny how following in God’s will and reading His Word and actually trying to put it into practice will get you to a point where you don’t even recognize the person you use to be because that’s exactly what God has used to change me in a year’s time. I am so grateful He took His time to prep the soil of my heart before leading Joey to take this leap of faith with our family!

In the midst of my sweet Savannah Veale’s death this past year, Jesus has shown me the truth of pouring your heart and everything out to Him (Psalm 62:8), casting all your cares on Him (1 Peter 5:7), and letting go to let Him be God (Deuteronomy 29:29).  

So when the phone call came the end of May that Chick-fil-A wanted to send us to California, I heard God clear as day say, “Will you trust me?  Will you go?  Will you leave your family behind and go to a foreign land that I have prepared for you?  Will you trust only in Me?”  And after spending a year in study telling myself, telling Him that I would take the leap of faith, risk my comfort, forsake it all whatever it may be if He asked, what choice did I really have?

I will never forget the moment God cemented this decision for me.  I was pouring over the choice in tears, struggling with the fear and the temptation to not trust God’s will when I asked God directly to make it clear, to give a sign, anything at all that would let me know His will was for us to move.  Not ten minutes later, a blog post showed up in my email with the title Instant Obedience, and I had my answer.  Abraham left immediately.  He picked up his things and went without a question recorded, without a plan or all the details in place. He didn't even know where he was going! (At least I know that much.) No, Abraham simply obeyed, and that is exactly what Joey and I feel we need to do—simply obey and trust.  And our days have been filled with a peace and joy that is inexplicable.  It is a true treasure to live your days knowing you are in the center of God’s will for your life!

So for those of you wondering how we ever got to this decision, there's the story.  There are a million unanswered questions ahead of us on this adventure.  My emotional state is a roller coaster at best right now.  But in the midst of it all, I am so grateful to my Lord Jesus Christ for providing a constant, firm foundation that He has built into my life through all the circumstances of the last few years.  He is my Rock, and there is no other like Him. He truly does work all things for our good and His glory, even the hard things, even the really, really hard things. 

Be encouraged!  He's still writing your story too!  He never forgets about a single one of His children, and His dreams are so much bigger than ours.  Let go.  Trust Him.  And if it's not the most freeing place you've ever experienced in your life, I'd like to know what is=)

Dear Senga

It's six months today since your little girl has died, and I use the word died because I'm having to get real with myself.  She's gone.  Not coming back.  And somehow using words like passed away, left this world, etc., etc. just puts a shiny band-aid on what is an ugly scar.  The truth is she died.

And every time her image flashes before my eyes on Instagram or a comment on an old picture on Facebook pops up, my heart breaks all over again.  And I cry.  I can't stop it.  I'll be driving down the road, look at my phone, see her beautiful, beautiful face on the screen, and just start crying.

I've tried to stop talking about her as much.  Not because I want to forget her...I can't, but because I want to stop crying.  I don't want to aggravate an old wound.  It's still tender.  It's still healing.  Not enough time has passed.

And yet, the last time we met, sitting in the Bojangles, catching up and reminiscing and using each others' company as a soothing balm, I am haunted by the words you said.  Her mother, tears brimming behind your eyes, voice catching in a halt as you struggled to say the words, "I just don't want people to forget her."  And my heart breaks all over again picturing you and her and those words and this life you are living--how some days must feel like a shell, a nightmare, and how others must be so full of joy in the fullness of God's love that fills every hole in your life.  What a roller coaster of emotion.

Hear me now in this fact--we have not forgotten.  No one has.  I dare say, we never will.

We can't talk about her all the time because it makes us cry.  It makes us hurt in a way that is unbearable.  It brings back the memory of the pain of the day she left us or the bittersweetness of those last memories with her, last conversations, last hugs, last laughs.  And sometimes it just hurts too much.  So we don't say anything.  We stuff all those feelings down deep inside.  Save them for a rainy day or a quiet place where the tears can spill unnoticed, and we don't have to explain ourselves to anyone.  We're not martyrs for trying to weather the grief alone, we're just human, trying to do whatever it takes to put one foot in front of the other without being an emotional basket case in front of the rest of world around us.  I dare say, no one has forgotten her.

We probably have stopped calling and texting and posting not because we have forgotten her, but because we're not sure what else there is to say.  Some are afraid it's hurtful to even bring her up in conversation.  I'm guilty of this myself with her own sister.  Do you talk about her or not?  Do you ask how the family is doing or not?  What do you say?  What do you not say?  And so my guess is that most people don't say anything at all.  Out of respect for you and your feelings and not wanting to be the one who reopens the hurt, people politely keep their mouths shut.  But oh, Senga!  No one has forgotten her!

People have not forgotten her, but there is truth in the fact that there are no new stories to tell, stories to share.  The new stories stopped when she left us. All we have are the old stories, the sweet memories, the fun times, the laughter shared.  Oh the laughter shared!  And so we remember those, we may not always share them with you, but we remember, and I dare say, we will never forget.

So sweet friend, grieving mother, please don't ever believe the lie from Satan that we have forgotten.  Regardless of how much time stretches between the mention of her name out loud, the thought of her has crossed our minds a million times a day in a million different ways.  She is never forgotten, and you will find blessed peace in claiming that truth for yourself.

And so since their are no new stories to share, I offer you the gift of a memory....My Savannah was missing your Savannah just the other night.  This always happens in the evenings, at the end of a day where something has triggered her memory of your sweet daughter.  She will ask me to lay in bed with her, then she will snuggle up close and stare far away with a look of longing on her face.  I always give her a bit of time, and then I ask, "What do you remember about Miss Savannah?"
       She sighs deeply, "I remember the hot chocolate parties we use to have."
       I smile, "Yeah?  Did Miss Savannah make good hot chocolate?"
       She nods her head, "And we got to drink out of real glasses.  We didn't break them or anything!"
We lay there and just let the memory linger, dancing at the corners of our minds and mouths.  I can see that hot chocolate party in her eyes.  I can imagine your Savannah making the concoction for them because quite frankly that was probably the only dessert she could find in our house, and she always turned lemons into lemonade AND a party=)  And I can see their little eyes shining expectantly, unable to sit still in their seats because this made them feel so special.  It was something only she did for them.  She made them feel so loved and so celebrated.  I can see it all behind the eyes of my little girl.

And that's a good memory.  That's a good story to tell.  That's why she will never be forgotten.  Because she left a mark on our souls just by being exactly who God made her to be.  We all have stories like that we will tell in passing for months and years and decades to come.  And as time continues to pass, we will tell those stories with smiles instead of tears, and that will make them all the more endearing.

How could we ever forget?!?!?  No, that's just a lie from the devil, Senga.  Just a lie from the devil. And I love you too much to let you believe a lie.

My Savannah

So some years are just milestones.  I can't pinpoint what makes six years old a milestone, but something about attending Kindergarten, reading on her own, memorizing flashcards, reciting and performing songs word for word (almost in key) makes six years old a milestone.

Six years ago today at around 6:30pm on a Monday, Savannah Lee changed my life forever when she made me a mom, and she keeps changing me every day.

She challenges me to draw closer to the Lord because only He knows how to parent her in the way she should go.  And I'm sure every parent feels this way, but her way will be special.  It will be blessed--full of joy, life, and the abundance of the Lord.  Her heartbreaks will be deep.  I'm seeing that now, but oh, the heights to which she will soar.  The heights to which she can make you soar.

She is the best of me and the spitting image of her daddy.  She is fun, brilliant, and kind.  Caring toward her friends, she manages to play dress up with the girliest of girls and turn around and wrestle with the best of the boys.  She has the Bounds family trait of being good at everything she does.  She is one of a kind, and I am so blessed God loaned her to me.

Happy Birthday precious girl!  You are loved so much more than you can even imagine.  I pray you don't just do great things in this lifetime, but that you learn to just be the best child of God you can possibly be.

With all my love,

(Click the picture above for more information about the photographer.  Lindsay Whited is a sweet friend of mine.  So blessed to have so many talented photographer friends in my life!)

For My Friend

So, I don't know that I've ever done this before, and typically I don't promote a whole lot of anything on my blog--pretty sure only about 10 people read this anyway, and most of those are family=)  But still, Sara Goede is a dear friend and mentor of mine.  We've spent A LOT of time pouring into each other, her more into me than vice versa I think, and this podcast is the reality of a vision and dream for her in her life, and it is an inspiration for me that God is using me right where I am, in this moment, in this day, in the middle of this load of laundry, to just BE--Be His, Be quiet, Be trusting, Be me in Him.

I invite those who read here on the occasions I actually post, to BE inspired, and subscribe to this podcast for the future to hear from real women with real everyday lives who love the Lord and are just trying to Be who He's called them to be in the midst of being wives, mothers, and followers of Christ. Listen here to find grace for yourselves in the midst of right where you are in life--no strings attached.

Click here to listen:  Be-Cast Episode 1: INTRODUCTION

Visit their website for more info and goodies: http://www.bestillbefree.com/

A Diary of Days

She's been gone three months today.  And to be honest, I blame her a little for the sunless, rainy summer we've had since her passing=)  Too much sunshine left this world when God took her home.

I have a message from her on my Voxer app on my phone.  For those not familiar with the app, it's like text messaging only with voice messages.  There's a whole conversation on my phone between the two of us back in April, and it rips my heart out to listen to it, but I wouldn't let you delete it off my phone if you paid me all the money in the world either.  I keep silently hoping that in time it will delete itself, but probably not.  It will be there.  My last earthly reminder of a girl who ripped my heart open with her honest, shameless beauty and perspective on life.  The voice of a girl who got it.  Who knew how to be infectious for Christ in a way that was simply magnetic.  You couldn't help yourself but be drawn to who she was and how she lived life.

I've gone through my photo albums and made copies of all the photos I had of her.  Most of them were from middle school.  So many silly, silly, laugh out loud pictures!  Even in her memory, she makes me laugh and smile and giggle from the inside out.  I don't have one picture of her making a normal face with my children.  She was always making life a game for them and loving them unconditionally all the while.

My five year old cried every night after her death at bedtime.  The first month she cried inconsolably. There was no comfort for her tiny heart.  The second month, the crying was not as heart-wrenching, but still...every night.  We finally made it to her grave site mid-July where more deep tears ensued for all of us, saying those final goodbyes, writing some last words on some silly paper lanterns. (I know she loved her crazy, redneck, haphazard grave site.  She totally would have decorated it that way herself=)  And after my daughter shed those last deep tears by the grave, I could feel a weight lift off her soul as she stared out the car window on the way home.  She stopped crying after that.  For the most part, I think we've all stopped crying on most days, but not all.

Somewhere in there we managed to go on our first family vacation without her.  I cried my eyes out every day packing for that vacation.  We had specifically sought out a condominium this year that had enough beds for everyone.  No packing the air mattress.  Turns out we didn't have the need anyway.  I carefully slathered my children in sunscreen from head to toe, praying they didn't burn because they had never burned when she did it every year.  It was bittersweet, but God showed up and turned it into one of the best family vacations we've had in years.  It was such sweet fellowship.  Thank you Lord.

So much has changed since she left our lives.  So much is continuing to change.  As I wrote before, life goes on.  Still there's a place in my heart, my life, my mind, my soul where a little of the sadness lingers for a friend gone.  I think that's the scar left from the wound that opened and poured fresh three months ago.  I've never cried that hard in my entire life.  My husband even said he'd never heard me cry so desperately broken before.  It scared him a little, and with the way I cry about things on a regular basis, that's saying something.  I loved her, and it was too soon.  Too soon for her to go.

So much has changed since.  So many good things.  So many pictures I wish I could text her, tweet her. I choose to believe she can see them whether that's true or not.

I wonder about her family daily.  I pray for their wounds, their scars that are left behind because Lord knows if I have one, there's is bigger. 

Her little sis came to babysit our kids the other night.  Joey and I smiled across the table at each other that date night, comforted by the fact that a Veale was spending time with our kids again.  She said she was fine when I asked her how she was doing, holding back the tears that dared to peek around the corners of her eyes.  I didn't press.  How many times has she had to try and answer that question?!?!?!?  There's no good answer.  But the long, hard hug she gave me when she left that night said more than enough, and I'm telling her now....it comforted me.  Thank you, Emma.  I wanted to comfort her, and instead she wound up comforting me instead!  He scar has to be bigger and deeper and more tender than mine, and yet she comforted me.  What a testimony to the strength and love of God that lives in the hearts of this whole family!  I am blown away.  Blown away.

And so life goes on.  I don't think anyone is capable of answering the question, 'How are you doing?' after something like this, especially the family.  'Fine,' is really the only appropriate answer.  All the things you know to be true are still true.  There's no need to rehash them, reopen the wound.  You still miss her.  You still have days you cry when you think about her.  You still wish she was around for certain events and happenings.  You still want to give her a hug and laugh with her again.  None of those things has changed, but you're fine just the same. 

God is still good, and every one's stories are still being written.  God is still sovereign, and He has used her life as an instrument to change the stories of so many for the better.  For me, her life has set me on a path to pursue joy, true joy because she knew it in Christ.  In the midst of all her suffering, there is not a doubt in my mind she knew real joy in her lifetime, and I want that.  A joy that seeps into every crevice of my being and oozes into the lives of others.  I'm determined now more than ever to find it and share it.

What does her life inspire or encourage you to do?  What imprint did she leave behind on your heart?  Because the answer to those questions is the real reason why we miss her.  Praying God helps you find the answers to those questions for your own life.  Those answers are a comfort and a hope in mine.

Exam Table Lessons: Lessons with Littles

Today I took my 5 year old to remove one stitch from a wound at the doctor.  One stitch.  She was perfectly fine until it came time to roll her onto her stomach to remove the stitch.  The one stitch.  Then what ensued was an out of body experience where it took three adults (mainly me, her mother) to man-handle her, body slam her, then pin her to the exam table, so in a fraction of a milli-second, one stitch could be removed from her precious bottom.  I've never heard my child scream like that before.  I'm pretty sure every other parentin adjacent rooms have never heard screaming like that before.  I warped through a million emotions in those two minutes of wrestling and ten seconds of pinning your own child down to a table.  Shock.  Horror.  A sense of complete loss of control. Extreme embarrassment. Hurt for my child. Compassionate understanding.  Dismay. A sense of pain of betrayal that I was the one holding her down. Relief that it was over.  Then anger--slow, seething, controlled burning anger.  Then an overwhelming deep sadness.

Why didn't she just trust me?  Why didn't she just trust the doctor that we've seen umpteen times a year since she was born?

We had talked about it for days.  I had prepped her that it would not hurt, and if it did, it would feel like a quick, short pinch.  We had discussed the expected behavior.  We had stern conversations about no screaming, no fighting, no fit pitching techniques of any kind.  The doctor had even come in and shown her exactly what was going to happen.  Let her play with the pair of tweezers on her own skin, the doctor's skin, and my skin, so she would know what it was going to feel like.

And still she refused to trust.

And you know what happened?  The doctor took the stitch out.  None of her screaming and tantrum throwing changed the outcome one iota.  What did happen is she was traumatized, I was traumatized, the nurse was stressed, the doctor was stressed, and anyone within ear shot was probably disturbed.  All because she wouldn't trust the authorities over her.

When the doctors left, I pulled her close and held her tight until the tears and breathing returned to a controlled level.  I helped her get dressed, then I got down on my knees and looked her in the eyes and told her she must never do that again.  I was stern, not angry.  I was firm, not uncaring.  She got the point.  She knew she had done wrong.  She knew I was not pleased.  It would have been cruel to spank her, but unwise to reward her for bravery she didn't show.  So we went home, and life goes on.

And oddly enough I can't quit putting myself in her shoes.  I can't get past the idea that how she behaved is no different then how I behave with God on more days than I like to admit, in more ways than I care to claim.

Don't we all refuse to trust?

When we make decisions, we seek counsel from family, friends, the internet, so that we are highly informed before going into a situation.  A new job, a move, a change of school, a marriage--really anything that requires major life change or the need for healing of some sort.  Many of us even have people that come along side us and show us what we can expect, how it will feel, what it will look like.  God is always perfect in His provision.  He knows that when it comes to the big leaps of faith in life, often times the soil needs to be prepped before planting and growth can begin.  We read our Bibles and stand firm in the knowledge of how we know we should react, and yet when it comes time to roll over and blindly trust???

I don't know about you, but typically my reaction is not much prettier than my five year old's.

I wrestle with God for control. I scream out prayers of fear and trembling, lashing out at the ones trying to help me.  I struggle to see and understand and watch what God wants and what He's trying to do in my life.  I throw a traumatic, spiritual temper tantrum.  They are fewer and farther between the older I get, but no less damaging every time.

And you know what happens?  God still allows the change to come.  He orchestrated it.  He knew it had to happen before the beginning of time.  He knew it needed to happen for my own good, my own safety, my own healing, my own betterment.  He tried to prep me, to prepare my mind and body and heart for the change to come.  He did all He could do, then He asked me to trust Him.  Trust Him.

Because when I don't, when the terrible, spiritual temper tantrum occurs, I traumatize myself, I hurt my relationship with my Lord, I stress the people around me trying to help, and I disturb others who I don't even know are watching--and others are always watching.  All because I won't trust.

Trust means to trust.  It means to rely on what you know to be true.  All that counsel you sought that God brought across your path via anything, all the people that answered every question they could, all the God moments you experienced in your Bible study in preparation for the change you know, you feel is coming--lean into that.

But more importantly, lean into your God.  If you can't bring yourself to trust any of the things God tried to put in your path in preparation, then by all means, trust Him!  Has He not proven Himself faithful in even the small things?  Food on your table?  Kind words in a moment of need?  Is He not good?  Look at the intricacies of the creation around you!  Is He not sovereign?  His will WILL be done.  Can you not trust Him?

Because if you can, then you will take a deep breath when the fear and panic starts to rise into a scream in the back of your throat.  You will close your eyes and grab the hand of your God who walks beside you every moment of every day, and you will squeeze hard, trusting that His word, His promises will be enough.  You will blindly roll over and allow the Great God of the Universe to be your strength, your guide, and your comfort in times of change or need.  You will close your eyes in prayer and maybe a few tears, and you will trust.

And you know what happens?  God still allows the change to come.  Only this time, you have grown in your relationship with the Lord because you now have experienced more fully what it means to actually trust, to actually rely on all the knowledge you have of the One True God, putting that knowledge to the test.  You are not disappointed.  You're not traumatized.  Your relationship with the Lord is actually stronger.  The ones there to help you get to rejoice with you in your peace and joy, and the ones watching that you don't even see, they are not disturbed.  You have not been the source of a negative experience for them. And maybe, instead of just going about life as normal when it's all said and done, you will actually be rewarded for your bravery and faith. God does promise to reward those whose hearts fully trust in Him.

God has been teaching me the importance of trusting Him for quite some time.  Today He gave me a very, vivid visual that will resonate in my mind every time I am challenged to trust. I will remember and know what the consequences of my choice to trust could be.

The outcome will not change, but how myself and everyone around me is effected in the process will be dramatically effected.

Will you choose to not trust, allow fear to overwhelm your every thought and action, negatively effecting everyone around you?  OR will you choose to trust, allowing peace to overwhelm your every thought and action, positively effecting everyone around you?

One thing I also learned today...this is a skill honed and sharpened and practiced and bettered over time.  I'm 33 years old, and I'm still learning this.  I don't blame my 5 year old for completely losing it on probably her first real life experience with learning to trust in a scary situation.  Our nature is not to trust, not to believe anyone knows what they're talking about except ourselves.  The lies in my head wanted me to blame myself for not developing a deeper sense of trust between mother and daughter up to this point, but then I realized I did literally everything I could for her, she had to choose to trust me, to trust the doctors.  It was her choice, and as her mom, there's really nothing I could have done that I had not already tried or done.  I feel sorry for her, just as I'm sure God has mercy on us.  But she will live another day to trust again, and maybe next time, it will get a little better.

Here's praying next time, you trust a little better too.  I know that's my goal=)

PS--By the way, my daughter said taking the stitch out only felt like a little pinch, not even close to as bad as a shot.  Sigh.  So take that for what it's worth too, and let that sink in.  Like, I'm thinking most of the time, the thing we fear the most turns out to not be quite so bad once it's over or maybe we get a little distance from it.

A Perfect Day

Dear self,
This is just a reminder to never forget today. 

Never forget...

• Savoring a sweet lunch as a family of four at Red Robin. No whining. No fighting the kids to eat. They even ordered for themselves for the first time today.
• The blessing of the rain stopping and the sun shining just as you pulled up to Uncle David's New Smyrna house.
• Soaking in the family gathered all around you...all 30 and 3 on the way.
• The pure joy in the eyes of your children riding on the back of the pontoon boat. Wind blowing their hair, eyes dancing, reflecting the sparkle of the canal.
• The day spent on the disappearing island. How the tide receded and there it was. An island oasis all to ourselves.
• The joy of new discoveries...hermit crabs, regenerating starfish, live sand dollars, well-armored sea snails, blue crabs, tiny crabs, ghost crabs.  Casting a line and catching amber jack and catfish.
• The pure joy of your children in their tidal pool discoveries. The silent skittle of millions of tiny crab feet scurrying as one through the blade grass. Finding live barnacles among the dead ones and hidden hermit crabs in various shells among other unusual mollusks.
• Hearing your children screech and bounce on their toes at each new discovery.
• Watching cousins hold hands as they walk the expanse of new land to discover.  Watch them taste and see that what God has made is truly good.
• Running through the shallow waters with your niece and relishing the sweet sound of an adoring "Aunt Jenn" uttered from the mouths of babes.  Their smiles.  Their joy when you see them, really see them and appreciate their attention.
• Realizing God still has newness to be discovered in the world around us...never far from our very fingertips.
• The sweet taste of a simple, loaded baked potato, grilled pork chops, and a Stavros salad at the end of a long and happy day.  The feeling of being full to the brim in every sense of the word full.  Satisfied with life.  Satiated with a day well spent and a meal much needed.
• Taking in the sights and sounds of your family enveloping the summer air of that back porch...seeping into the depths of your heart and soul. Each face. Each smile. Each voice. Each giggle, twirl, and crooked smile of every child. Each endearing and knowing look of every adult. My family. My blood. My heartbeat. The times like these are fast fleeting. Hold them. Ponder them. Treasure them.
• Playing ring-around-the-rosy with your nieces and watching their eyes shine and their small hands reach for each other and hold on tightly.  May you always reach for your family and hold on tightly.  May we always give you a reason to want to.
• The sweet comfort of the independence of your own children on this day. Five and three has been a great year.
• Watching your daughter dance party with her cousins, toes pointed, heart abandoned. So grown up. So beautiful. So full of everything life is. Seeing all that she is and all that she will be in that moment.
• Your son choosing daddy over you...kayaking, fishing, riding the Moped. Just loving his dad. Loving being a boy. Loving the world God made just for him too.
• The feeling of not wanting to leave as the day wound down and each family trickled out the door of their own accord. 

Never forget wanting to stop time and hold on for just one second more. The warmth. The love. The community. The way the world feels when all is right.

Never forget the perfect day. Hold each memory tight.  Store it with your treasure in heaven. Never forget.

And next time....don't forget your camera either:)

Humility

So I'm a Sci-Fi geek.  I can recite the intro to Star Trek by heart, and there's probably not a comic book movie ever made that I haven't seen.  It doesn't matter how many Super Man movies they continue to make, people will still go see them.  I think it has to do with the something in all of us that needs to believe in supernatural power...hmmm....I digress....

Anyway, so in May of last year, I found myself fixated on a thought. (As we've determined, my thoughts get me into LOTS of trouble), but I am also strangely, how-do-you-say, "gifted" with thoughts that inevitably end up foreshadowing future events.  I am NOT saying I can see or predict the future...AT ALL.  All I'm saying is I have experienced too many de ja vu moments in my life to discount how God is trying to speak to me--not to anyone else mind you, just me.

With that disclaimer, I found myself in May of last year constantly playing over a scene from one of the X-Men movies.  (Here's the best clip I can find to illustrate. Fast forward to 1:54 and mute the music if that's not your thing. The whole clip is actually a great metaphor for what "staying inside your head" can actually do to you, but that's for another day...)  Anyway, it's a scene where the telepathic and telekinetic Jean Gray steps out of an airplane to save her friends from the impending doom of a dam breaking in front of them, drowning them all.  With the powers of her mind alone, she creates a force field around the plane as the dam bursts, water gushing forth all around them in horrific force. Her friends are able to get the plane started and escape their doom, but the force of the water proves too great for Jean's powers, and she is consumed by the floods.  (So you are made to believe.)

Now, I hadn't seen this movie in years.  Why this scene kept playing itself over and over in my mind, I had no clue.  I had thought about writing a blog about it.  Maybe God was trying to show me something I needed to pass on to others. Pride.  But instead, looking back, I see that it was a warning.  I was Jean Gray.  I was trying all on my own with my own spiritual powers given by God in my own spiritual strength (which is a lie) to ward off the coming flood in my life.  I thought I was being very holy and martyr-like to stand in the gap for my family in the plane behind me.  Joey and I would stop fighting.  I would take the high road.  I would figure it out.  I would get it together.  I would save my family.

The dam broke.  I was consumed.

On Sunday morning May 20th, 2012 every dam in my life broke.  Couldn't pinpoint what thought or action sent me over the edge that morning.  Probably nothing significant in that moment that morning because my life had been slipping out of control inwardly for quite some time, as I've pointed out previously.  I know it was a mental dam, but the force of the break consumed my body, and that is why I honestly believe I experienced my first seizure ever in my entire life.

That brief one minute incident where my body and mind were completely out of my control sent my life reeling for the next six months.

So now, over a year later, I'm in a place where I find myself humbled--daily, and about that I will write.

Only then can I boast like Paul in my weaknesses.  I am innately given to prideful thoughts, which often lead to prideful actions and prideful words said or penned, but God is bigger than me.  Way bigger, and He is faithful to humble me every time.  Every time.  It's a nasty, unpleasant cycle that I am beginning to look forward to.  Praise God that He will humble me!  Praise God that He doesn't let me continue in my prideful ways before too many people are hurt and not enough helped.  Bless Him for faithfully disciplining this child.

In this weakness I will boast of God's surpassing goodness.  A grace sufficient.  That the Creator of the universe would see my wretched, sinful pride, and even consider forgiving me, then much less filling me, then much much less fulfilling me!

So today, over a year later, I am asked if I will take the time to share about an amazing act of grace that I've experienced in my life, and the word that comes to mind is humility.  IT IS BY GOD'S GRACE ALONE THAT I AM HUMBLED.  That's weird, right?  But I'm telling you, if it weren't for Him, I'd probably be the most unbearable, judgmental religious person anyone has ever met.  If it weren't for His grace gently putting me in my place, quietly pointing fingers at all my flaws, softly ushering me back to my knees before His throne, I think I might be the most arrogant, lost "Christian" of them all.  And the grace on top of grace?  He keeps me there, on my knees, in front of Him, no matter the cost.

Some might think, 'Geez.  I'm not sure that sounds like such a great relationship?  Someone always keeping you in a place of humility?  Never letting you sound your own horn just a little?  Sounds a little overbearing and unenjoyable.'    And yes, to the world who doesn't know my God, who doesn't know me, this all sounds a little kooky.  That's part of why I know it's perfect for me.  When God is working in your life, it often makes absolutely no sense to the people around you.

But I know my God.  I know He does right by His people.  I know He wants nothing but what's best for me.  I know He is working all things for my good and for His glory.  And He's got me in a place, where really, all I really want is for others to see His glory.  He's SO MUCH BETTER and MORE and GREATER than me.  And for His grace to be sufficient for me, He has to put me in a place where I can see His sufficiency at work.  And that usually means a vantage point from my knees, but really, I almost prefer the cool comfort of the ground pressed against my face=)

So, I will tell you the story of His amazing act of grace toward me--

I had a seizure. (God's grace: Nothing was permanently wrong with me.)  Didn't learn my lesson.  Kept trying to put on the brave face, when secretly, inwardly I was working my own plan.  My grandfather died.  Not in my plans.  (God's grace: He still gave me words to speak.)  The thoughts, the lies, continued to overwhelm my self-strength.  I sank into a depression darker and deeper than I have known in years.  (God's grace: He sent a friend to tell me I needed help.)  So I took the meds, and I sought help. (God's grace: Three months of counseling not only got me off the meds but gave me freedom in place of bondage!  Tools to fight the thoughts!  God's grace on top of grace:  In the midst of taking the meds, He was busy revealing Himself to me fully.  Filling my life with who He was and the greatness of His power.  Preparing me for the faith journey ahead.)  A new year came and with it a new me, a new outlook, a new way of thinking.

I'm still tempted to lean on myself.  I'm still tempted to believe watching TV for weeks on end instead of doing my quiet time is ok.  I'm still tempted to believe that spending time doing lots of good, godly things makes up for the lack of time spent in genuine prayer and communion with God.  I'm still tempted to spout all the good, godly answers to life's hardships in other people's lives without taking the time to minister to the hurt and the immediate need.  I'm still tempted to be a Pharisee.  (God's grace: He reminds me of the meds I had to take a year ago, the dark place I was in, the lies I believed that He set me free from.  His grace is that He humbles me quicker this time around than it took the first time.  He strips me of all my pride faster than He did a year ago.  And when He does, even though I resist every time, He reminds me that pride keeps me in bondage while humility sets me free.)

And what choice do I have then?  Who wants to stay in prison? In chains? A slave to their own fleshly desires with no higher calling?  Who willingly chooses that?  Unfortunately, most of us do every day--including myself.  It's easier to watch one more hour of television than to sit and confess your sins.  It's easier to spend one more hour on Facebook than it is to stop and really spend time in prayer for all those friends.  It's easier to fill your days with play dates, lunches, VBS, Bible studies, and other ministries, than it is to ask God what HE wants you to do with your day, your time, your kids, your friends, your husband.  It's easy to believe the lie, 'I've got this.  Thanks for the protection, Lord.  Thanks for Your blessings.  But I've got this.'

It's so easy to choose the easy...and be enslaved, ensnared, indebted to prideful living and thinking.

Choose the hard. Choose the different.  Choose the difficult choice.  Submit to God's way.  Let Him have His way in your life in the daily, nit picky, seemingly pointless decisions.  Learn to bend your knee  to His will in ALL things, and soon you will realize the joy of the Lord.  His way really is best, and it is an amazing act of grace in my life right now that I am seeing it.  I've always believed it, known it, but never tried too hard to actually live it.  Oh what joy!  Oh what joy!

Choose the hard.
Whatever that may be.
Bend your heart and bow the knee.

Watch for joy!
It's there!  Don't you see?
True joy dances in the dawn of humility.

Moving On

A little over two weeks later, she's been gone now from this world.  Life keeps moving on.  The world keeps turning.  Bills keep coming in.  My children still need babysitters, so we call new ones. We still need to eat, sleep, exercise--follow God.

Life keeps moving on.

And yet, when you least expect it, the sadness will creep into the crevices of the healing wound and make it sting just a bit.  I've rocked my daughter to sleep every night since Miss Savannah's funeral.  Every night her tired, worn out little mind cries for the friend she lost in that girl.  And I rock her gently, reminding her she's in a better place, reminding her that one day, if Jesus lives in our hearts that we will see her again.  Every night.  Then she will sigh and sniffle and close her tired eyes only to wake to another full day tomorrow.

Life keeps moving on.

And then I make time to meet with the girl's precious mother, and the healing wound cracks a bit deeper, only oozing not bleeding.  And we share stories and cry shared tears of remembrance and we try to offer each other comfort in our knowing of her.  We offer encouragement in the days to come.  We comfort each other and hug the hurt away for another day and leave lunch feeling lighter and less burdened and slightly more healed than before.

And life keeps moving on.

And that's the truth.  The world will not stop for one girl, one boy, one man, one woman here on earth. That's not as God intended.  Life will continue to move, and for the sake of our fleshly minds, we must find a way to move with it, or we WILL go crazy.  So how do we do that?

I talk to myself often, and I found myself thinking about why it's so hard.  Why, when we know beyond a shadow of doubt where she is, why is it so hard to let her go?  Why is it so difficult when we know she is no longer in pain?  Why do we insist on reopening the wound and feeling the pain?

For me, it's because I feel a deep sense of loyalty to the people I love.  I feel like it's wrong for me to live life as if they never existed, to keep doing the things you always did before.  Shouldn't their presence here on earth have meant something?  Shouldn't it have made a mark, left a tangible hole in the universe?  She was that important!

And we battle this fleshly desire to hold onto something that was never physical to begin with.

Did you here me?  She was never physical to begin with.  Anyone who sees the shell laying in the coffin knows this.  That is not her.  She is not there.  So if she's not there now, then what we saw on the outside, the physical person we could touch, was never really her to begin with!  It's never really any of us!

And contemplating the whys in my car one day, this is the conversation that ensued:
HOLY SPIRIT: Do you really think she's sitting around up here mourning the fact that you are all so sad she's gone?
ME: No, Lord.  Your word says there is no sadness or tears in heaven, so maybe she just doesn't think of us at all.  But no, I don't think that's true either.  I think she remembers us, maybe even prays for us, but she's whole in every sense now, and while she's not You Lord, she's seeing life from Your perspective finally.  She has no need to be sad when she knows and is feeling the truth that You will make all things right in Your time.  She no longer battles this physical flesh that weighs us down here on earth that fights with the spirit inside of us as your children.  She lives life there in complete trust, in full joy, in a true, unencumbered faith.
HOLY SPIRIT: Exactly.  So if she's moved on and is not mourning you, why won't you do the same?  Because it honestly isn't effecting her one bit at this point.

And because I'm a very blunt person, sometimes God is just that blunt with me.  I have no excuses other than my battle is with this selfish flesh.  My sadness is a normal reaction in this world because my spirit lives in a sinful body.  It's not wrong unless I indulge it.  It's not sin unless I allow the devil to leverage it in my life to justify actions that are unwise.  It's not harmful unless I dwell on it.  It just is what it is because my flesh is my flesh.

And when I come to grips with this truth, my eyes clear, my heart lightens, my step quickens, and I can breath joy again.  My God loves me just the same.  He gives grace to the weak in any definition of the word.  He knows what it means to be human.  To be bound by a flesh and emotions that fight His Spirit inside.  He knows.  He understands, and the best part is, He conquered it!  So in Him, through Him, He will conquer it for you too.

So lean on Him.  Turn to Him.  Look to His words.  Look expectantly for His presence in all things.  He is there.

He is moving life on.

And if He's the one doing the moving, I guess I can be ok with that.  I will rest in Him, and He will carry me on the days I'm really weak, when the old wound throbs deep and painful, and when it's not so painful, I get to walk with Him, talk with Him, and do life with Him because He makes my world turn, and anything but Him is just a shell of what could be, an illusion of what actually is.

Be encouraged!  There is more to life than THIS life!   And it's ok to move on and find out what God has in store for you.  Savannah Veale is smiling in heaven right now, reaping all the benefits of the treasure in heaven she stored while on earth.  I want to do the same.  I want to keep storing up treasure in heaven because the physical, worldly, fleshly things are an illusion of the devil, and moths and rust will destroy them all in time, but one day, I will dance in heaven with my sweet girl for all eternity, so I want to make sure what's waiting there for me is well-stocked=)

Today We See Jesus

Today we say goodbye.

It's weird.  I feel like I said goodbye on Tuesday, holding her hand in that hospital bed.  When I kissed her forehead, that was suppose to be it.  I know I need today, but I've been dreading today.

My daughter has asked to see her one more time.  I wish she could have held her hand warm in the hospital and said goodbye there.  But there's something about laying eyes on the fleshly shell that tells the mind, 'She's really gone.  Look she is not there.  That's not her.  It never was.'

No.  The essence of who we are is the light inside, the spirit God fashioned in our mother's womb.  I don't know how anyone can face death and not see it otherwise.  The light and life and joy and being of a person is the spirit inside them that shines in the eyes, is tangible in their touch, and resonates in the ear at the sound of their unique voice and tone.  The Spirit is what makes us alive.  And for those who have accepted the Spirit of the Holy God into their lives, it's Jesus who really makes us shine.

Burying people dates back to the days of Abraham in the Bible when Abraham lovingly bought the first piece of the land God promised to him and his descendants to bury is beloved Sarah.  He buried her in a cave in the side of a mountain, and laid her to rest.  God records many a burial in the Bible, so it must be important.  He must know that it gives us the closure to move on.

So as much as yesterday felt like the calm before the storm for me, as much as crawling out of bed this morning felt like a weight around my body and mind, I know today is needed.

It is good to mourn AND celebrate with the body of Christ.  Other believers.  Other people who loved her.  It's kinda like the red blood cells of the body of Christ all merging together to cover the wound, clot together, stop the bleeding, and heal the wound.  Of course this started days ago with text messages, Facebook pictures and condolences, hugs, prayers, and shared tears.  Today's services are kinda like taking the band-aid off, letting the wound breath and begin to harden, so healing can continue underneath the scab, and movement--albeit however stiff--can continue without pain.

And that's what will happen today.  We will all get to breath not just the air of shared sorrow, but more importantly the air of shared joy.  Savannah's joy.  We will celebrate her life together.  Her sweet, joy-filled days here on earth.  And we will sing with tears in our eyes knowing that she is no longer in pain.  No more sore joints.  No more burning, itching skin.  No more blindness.  No more struggles to breath. No more warts to remove.  No more watching what she can and can't eat.  No more loss of hair.  No more stress.  No more suffering--at all.

And when the fresh air of that realization washes over us, the body of Christ, we will feel the weight lift, the wound uncovered.  We will feel a peace as we come together firm to support each other.  Underneath in each of our hearts, the wound will still be tender, but healing will continue in time.  But for today, as one unit breathing fresh air of a new life in God's Home, realizing that in Christ this is NOT the last time we will see her, praising our God for being good and claiming the truth that He will do right by His people.  Together, we will begin to move forward from this day.

And because we clot together, when we move forward it will be with less pain.  A little stiff maybe.  A little tender underneath, but not as painful as the hole ripped open less than a week ago.  No.  After today, Jesus will bind us all together in one hope, one joy, and one peace.  Unity in Christ will guard our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus, and we will have each other to remind each other that He holds us close that He is our Strength, our Help, our Refuge.

And when we lay her in the ground, we will let her go.  Ceremonies are necessary to help us remember, to help us move on.  How many piles of stones marked significant blessings and words from God in the old testament?  How many ceremonies were meticulously described in the books of Moses to help people remember and continue their lives in covenant and celebration?

Today will be a good day.  As much as we may dread all the emotion we are about to experience one more time, today will be a good day.  We will see Jesus in her life.  We will see Jesus in each other.  We will see Jesus in the music.  We will see Jesus in her remembrance.  We will see Jesus in the unity of our love for one another.

Today will be a good day people!  Look around and don't miss it!  Camp out and stay and watch!  Today WE WILL SEE JESUS!  If you're looking, even through bleary eyes and weary souls, you will see Him.

And today will be a good day.

For Those Who Grieve

It's day two.  She's been gone for two days.  The pictures have stopped being posted online.  The condolences have stopped coming in.  The phone and computer are silent.  The world is still turning.  People are posting pictures about end of school activities, graduations, fun times with the family, and she's only been gone two days.

My world stopped.  Why didn't everyone else's?

And my sister-in-law reminded me, it's my pain that I feel.  It's not everyone else's pain.  Everyone else's life keeps going.   The world keeps spinning.  And that irritates me.  It rubs me raw like sandpaper.  It makes me want to get mad at people for no good reason.

And I think what's frustrating me the most at this point is my world keeps turning too.  The laundry keeps piling up, the dishes keep filling the sink, the kids still have parties at school to attend, end of year performances to perform.  My world keeps turning too, and it beckons me to move forward with it.

But it feels so wrong to move forward without her in it.

It hurts to try and line up another sitter for the wedding we have to attend in two weekends.  The air in my throat tightens every time I think about the fact that there will be no more random text messages, tweets, or stop-in visits.  She'll never come knocking on my door again and make my children squeal with delight.  We will never throw our arms around each other again in this life.

And the pain singes deep and lingers.  I hurt because she's gone, and there are moments when I can move on with life and clean my house and make my plans like she never existed.  And then I hurt because something--a song, a smell, a memory--will remind me she did.  She's only been gone two days!  And the tears surge and pour again, just when I thought I had run dry.  And it hurts.  It hurts that I can even think about moving on, but it hurts to not try as well.

And then I get mad because she wouldn't want me to be acting this way.  She would want me to keep moving on, to keep moving forward, to live life.  Because she loved to live life! And she'd be mad I was trying to stop it on account of her.  And that anger hurts.

And then, then I feel ashamed.  Because she's not my child, not literally.  And my heart reaches out to her family, and I want to wrap them in bubble wrap and protect them from all these emotions because if mine are overwhelming theirs have got to be five times as penetrating.

And then, the peace of God will flood my being, and He will remind me of His command to me, to pour out my heart to Him.  To let Him be my refuge.  And so despite the hesitancy to put word to paper, despite the fact that it seems more prudent to stay inside my head, I can't.  If I do, I'll sink.

Faith in God keeps us from sinking like Peter walking on the water.  Keep your eyes on Him.  Take every thought captive.  Never take the spiritual eyes of your heart off of Christ.  He will keep you on top of the water.  Looking at the waves of emotion instead of Him will only cause you to sink.

The truth is God IS my refuge.  The truth is God is good.  The truth is God is just.  The truth is God does right by His people.  The truth is the starting point for my emotions.  The truth is from where my emotions should stem, not the other way around.  But to think this way is not normal.  Normal is for your emotions to mold what you believe to be true, but that's not God's way.  He says I AM the truth and the life.  So if I start there, and believe that, and sink my anchor on Him, my emotions cannot carry me away.  They cannot sink me into the darkness.  That's an unchangeable fact.

So, life moves on.  I have to move on.  And to move forward, I have to let go.  I feel guilty and wrong for letting go.  My emotions tell me I am letting her down.  I feel deep sadness every time I realize an hour has gone by, and I didn't mourn her passing.  I can never forget her, but I've been down this road of loss before.  You never forget, but their presence in your life begins to fade, and time soothes the wound, and healing begins.

It's just at this point, two days later, I'm not ready to feel the healing.  Isn't that silly?  I want to stop time, stop my world, sit and do nothing but think about her because if I think about her and dwell on her, then she's still here.  The pain makes her life seem real.  The tears seem to keep her alive.  I feel like if I begin to heal, then I'm dishonoring her, I'm dishonoring her family, I'm not holding her memory in esteem.  Because when I stop feeling the hurt, then she's really gone.  So it's almost like you make yourself hurt.  You make yourself dwell on thoughts that continually reopen the wound to keep it fresh.

But that's not good. That's how scars happen.

You see, the wound has already been treated with the healing ointment of God's presence and truth.  It has been covered with the powerful protection of prayer.  It may only be two days later, but it's already beginning to heal, and that's not a bad thing.  That's a good thing.  That's God's design.  We need to allow the healing and stop picking at the scab.

And today every emotion just makes me want to pick the scab, so I'm pouring out my heart to my God, the One True God, the God who made heaven and earth, who knit me in my mother's womb, who ordained my days here on earth before I was ever born, who did the same for my sweet girl I miss so much.  That is truth.  And in Truth I can find my strength.  I will see her again.

Life moves on, and I guess--after sitting to write all this--I am overwhelmed by my Heavenly Father telling me, "That's ok.  Healing is a good thing. Let Me heal your heart.  Stop picking at the scab."

So I will rejoice, for He has made me glad. Even just two days later, He is making me glad.  I think that would make her glad too.

Savannah Joy Veale

Yesterday she died, and we wept and mourned and cried and sorrow wracked our souls.

Today, I'm simply numb and the selfish sadness of this life echos inside the hole in my heart.  The onslaught of pictures of her online break my heart.  I'd give anything to see that smile again here on earth.  To watch her sweep my children into her arms one last time.  To tangibly feel the joy she brought them and the joy they brought her.  That moment when she came to our door and my kids realized it was her--that's the moment I keep reliving in my mind.

In a world desperately searching for joy, that moment was joy.  Real joy.

And now she's gone.  And my heart is desperately searching for joy again.

Some out there might think I'm a bit over the top.  But she wasn't just "one of the girls in my small group" so many years ago for 6th, 7th, and 8th.  From the moment I laid eyes on her in 6th grade, I felt connected to her.  I loved everything about her instantly--even then.  Even in all the early years of snotty, sarcastic middle schoolness, even when she tried to give me the cold shoulder, I loved her until she let me in, and then I could never let her go.

Her freshman year, when I met with her every week while she was suffering and home bound, we did what I thought was a useless Bible study on joy.  I watched her suffer week by week for a full year.  I listened to her stumble through the study questions, so many of which I really couldn't give her an answer.  For a year we searched for joy together, and I never thought we really found it.  In my mind, it had alluded us in the midst of all her misery.

Come to find out, five years later, in that year of suffering, she found joy.  She found it in our friendship, I think.  She found it despite her pain and itching and misery.  She found it in Jesus alone.  And so she told me, it's not just her middle name tattooed on her right hip, it's the Joy she found that year we met together.  That year when she ingrained herself on my heart, and I knew I'd never let her go.

So I let her in my life.  She started babysitting for me every week.  We paid her more than I should have because I loved her deeply, so I guess she kept coming back=)  She started helping me raise my children.  Over the next five years, she helped me set boundaries for them and make life fun.  They loved her deeply.  Over those years, our friendship grew as she grew into a beautiful, confident young woman.

She would come to our house and tell story after story of what God was doing in her life, all the adventures she was experiencing, all the hurts from friendships and relationships.  And I would listen and laugh and love and cry with her, and we let each other into each other's hearts.  Not much was ever said, but she understood me, and I understood her, and we just simply wouldn't let each other go.

When she left for college, we all cried the last day she babysat for us before heading off.  She made sure the "Miss Savannah" bag at our house was always full of candy, so my kids would never forget she was the best babysitter ever=)  Then she would text me before the weekends she came home, and we'd always work her into our date night schedule, mostly just so we could see her, hug her neck, and listen to her stories.  She took light and laughter and joy with her everywhere she went.

It wasn't long before I realized she was coming over even when we weren't paying her=)  She stop by when she was in town just to chat and catch up.  She'd stay for a dinner, watch a football game, come to a party, or just stop in to say hi to the kids.  She had helped me enjoy three family vacations by coming with us, and she was simply part of our family.  Bottom line, she was part of our family.

She was a sister, a friend, a child in the Lord of mine.  And I had plans to never let her go.  I had envisioned my children as flower girl and ring bearer at her wedding one day.  I had plans to never let her not come on family vacation with us.  I was going to pay her to spend time with my children for a full day, every day this summer mostly because I know they love spending time with her more than me=)  I was never going to let her go.

And yesterday, I had to say our earthly goodbyes.  I had to let her go.  I'm still letting her go.  Today I can't let go.

So for those who don't understand my tears, my hurt, who think I'm the crazy girl who's over the top about a girl who wasn't even part of my family.  Let me tell you, she was.  She was a part of our family as much as any older adopted child is a part of their foster families.  She was loved, and she will be missed.  And there is a hole where she once was in my life. A hole that only Jesus can fill.

Sunday night, He gave me this verse:  Psalm 62:8 "Trust the Lord in all things, Jennifer.  Pour out your heart to Him, and He will be your refuge."  And so that's what I'm doing.  I'm pouring out my heart every chance I get because I will not fall into the trap of my mind.  I won't slip into the darkness that beckons in the bottom of that hole.  I will do as my God has commanded and pour out my heart every chance I get!!!  Only Jesus can fill that hole.  Only Jesus.

I penned this in my journal to my children yesterday, and I think it has helped comfort me the most, "I'm dreading going home and telling the two of you (Weston and Savannah).  I have no idea how you will react, but at the same time I know that with you two is where I need to be.  Life goes on, children.  Miss Savannah's time on earth is done.  Ours is not.  Mine is not.  God still thinks there's more left for me to learn--not to do though.  No--I think Miss Savannah had a whole life left of greatness ahead of her--things she could have accomplished for the Lord.  I think maybe, she didn't have a whole lot left to learn.  She had truly learned the secret of having joy and giving thanks in all circumstances, of becoming all things to all people just to lead some to the Lord.  She knew Jesus.  She got it.  She figured it out.  She was in the perfect place in her life to go Home and love Him--her Bridegroom.  So that's where she went.  She went Home."

Jack the Giant Killer

I digress from my normal blogging shpeals to bring you this...YAY for  Jack the Giant Killer!!!!

As the mother of both a daughter and a son, I have the pleasure of being exposed to MANY types of movies.  An abundance of them are your princess stories where the girl is the protagonist, and the guy plays a supporting role at best.  These are the classics.  Great stories, but no real strong male characters.

And then I get to thinking about television shows and other PG-13+ movies that come out this day in age, and I'm overwhelmed by the sense that the girl has to save the guy.  And then I take a look at the men in our "family" oriented sitcoms and wonder why any woman would want to save these sniveling, self-absorbed, incompetent, incapable baboons that the media makes them out to be.

And then, if you happen to find a halfway noble male character to follow, the writers like to blur the lines between good and evil so much that you can't always tell if you're really rooting for the good guy or not.  Or is your good guy really a bad one?  Who knows these days.

Don't get me wrong.  I'm all for a strong female lead, and I'm glad that movies progressed from Snow White to Tangled (although I could do with a little less rebellion in my animated characters).  I just wish there were more movies with male leads who were true heroes.  You know what kind of movie I'd like to see?  Sleeping Beauty remade from Prince Phillip's point of view.  

Every girl wants to be a princess, but every boy should want to be a prince as well.  

I know.  Boys have the market on super heroes, and Jedi knights, and soldiers.  It's just not cool to be a prince.   Fairy tales are for sissies.  Unless you're Jack.

Jack the Giant Killer was like stepping back in time to when I was a little girl and fairy tales played out exactly as they should--lots of heroics and a perfectly happy ending.  

The princess is strong-willed, but respectful and loving to her father even if she does defy him secretly by leaving the castle.  At least she stated her case knowledgeably and was well-spoken and level headed in the process.  She never lost her cool or her grace throughout the movie.  

And Jack?  Ah Jack. He fell for the girl, and he would defend her honor and protect her at any cost to himself.  He even humbly accepted his station in life without rebellion or a fight.  He didn't press for his way or sneak around with the princess behind her father's back.  He was too noble for that.  He had dignity and honor for the king and his daughter.  No, but he would protect her with his life, regardless, of those circumstances, and his perseverance to do the right thing eventually won him the prize he truly wanted, and he didn't have to deceive or defy or demean his own character in the process.  Imagine that?

All the while, the soldiers fought bravely.  They finished the tasks they started, even to death.  The commander of the army has the bravery of legends.  Real bravery.  In-your-face, no-holds-bar, do-it-or-die-trying bravery.  The stuff that real men are made of.

It's been a very long time since I've enjoyed heroes in a film with actual character--noble character.  Think about it.  Soldiers in movies often have to make the tough calls of "do I follow orders and kill this person or defy orders and do the right thing".  That may be real life, but it sends a mixed message to our youth watching.  Heroes often sacrifice their nobility to appear to the be the bad guy for the greater good of the people. ie. Batman, Spiderman  Again, a mixed message to our youth.  Or super heroes have some ridiculous character flaw like Hulk and his uncontrollable anger, Iron Man and his arrogance.

I'm a huge fan of Optimus Prime, but he's a robot from another planet (strange how his noble ideals seem foreign and old fashioned in this day in age).  Sam?  Not someone I want my little man to grow up to be. 

But Jack?  I'd love it if he became a Jack.  Maybe a bit wayward at times, lost in the beginning, but with a heart of gold, the determination of a mule.  Honorable, humble, smart, quick on his feet, and brave, terribly, terribly, terribly brave, even when facing his greatest fears.  He set his eyes on the prize and did what it took to get the job done.  Save the Princess.  Protect the kingdom.  Honor the crown.  I want my son to be this way, and I want my daughter to grow up looking for a man like this.

So yeah, despite the gruesome parts, if my son was 9, 10, 11, I'd take him to see this movie.  This life we live is far scarier than some digitally created, malformed monsters at the top of a beanstalk.  No in this life my son will face the real giants of fear and failure, so he better learn to grit his teeth and fight for something worth more than his own life.  Save the princess.  Protect the kingdom.  Honor the Crown.  To do that he has to know what the words noble, dignity, respect, honor, humility, and brave really mean.  And to know that he has to see what they mean.  See them demonstrated and lived out.  Those aren't words you memorize off a page.  Those are words you emulate from life.

So I'm grateful for my husband who does his best to be my brave prince.  I'm grateful for the other men in my son's life who demonstrate these words in their own ways.  I just pray that more are out there.  That our culture hasn't emasculated every last male to fit into a pair of skinny jeans, gel his hair just the way she likes it, and do the princess's bidding at her beck and call.

No.  The princess wants a man with a sword, strong arms, and an equally strong mind who will come after her when she takes off down the path of her own adventure.  Who will unlock the cages she might find herself in.  Who will travel WITH her down the heights of the beanstalk and keep her safe as she tries to complete her own quest in life.

And princesses, that man needs you to tell him he's a prince in your eyes, that you trust him to keep you safe, that you have faith in his abilities to lead and protect you, and that you see and believe he can be more than he thinks he is.

They each need each other as much as the other.  Just in different ways.  It's how God designed it.  It's how it works best.  

They tell us fairy tales are an illusion these days.  That they cloud reality.  Not to set your hopes in a man or a woman.  You'll be sadly disappointed.  That there's no such thing as love at first sight.  I beg to differ.

God loved me the moment he thought of me.  And when Joey and I focus our marriage on that love, on loving THE King, He grows in us the character we need to live a life that glorifies Him--the greatest adventure of all.  I'm the princess, and Joey's the prince.  God saved us both, and He entrusts us to protect the Kingdom and honor the Crown.  Greatest adventure on earth!  So grateful he gave me a prince who's good with a Holy Sword and has a strong back and equally strong mind because we sure have a lot of fun going on adventures together=)

So maybe Jack the Giant Killer is a fairy tale.  Maybe it's not real life or completely relatable.  Not enough character flaws some would say.  Well, I think the pendulum for me is starting to swing.  When it comes to the media I watch and expose my kids to, I think I'll take some make believe nobility and chivalry over real-life deceit and cowardice any day of the week. 

So that's my biased opinion on the movie.  Take it or leave it--I'm just encouraged that not all "boy" movies are dark and/or gory.

 

Burning and Smoking

So let me continue filling in the gaps from last year...
February through May of 2012, I was fully believing so many subtly twisted lies.  I was proud of myself for sticking it out in BSF even though life was difficult.  I was pleased that they had even asked me to serve in leadership at the time, which God led me to prayerfully decline. (Thank you Lord.)  I was putting on a false front of spirituality that looking back now, makes me want to vomit.

Because the truth was, Joey and I literally fought every weekend he was home once he started traveling.  I was jealous that his dream was a reality and mine appeared to be slipping into obscurity. (Again, subtly twisted lies.)
I was angry and prideful and hurt by my own thoughts and mistruths.
I took my own self-cation during this time.
In my mind, I was having all kinds of conversations with myself that I had no business having, daydreaming up scenarios of conversations that never happened and never needed to happen!
I was spiritually bi-polar.  One moment sobbing at the feet of God, begging for forgiveness, and in the very next breath, I would ignore the Holy Spirit's prodding completely, blatantly choosing my own way because I'm a child of God. I know the right things to do.  I never told God I didn't need Him with my words, but I sure as heck told Him with my actions.

I've mentioned before that when you step out of the presence of God, you step fully into the presence of self--your flesh, this world, the devil.  So then, the challenge is to STAY in the presence of God.  This has not proven easy.

This is why we war (Ephesians 6:12).  I am not my own.  I was bought with a steep price--the blood of the Son of God Himself (1 Corinthians 6:19-20).  I am His, yet I still have to live in this world as an alien, a stranger, as holy and set apart (1 Peter 2:9-12).  This is not easy, so the battle rages every day.

I am more and more convinced that the physical trials of life take their toll on us, but it is the quiet, daily battles in the mind that determine if we live life in victory, freedom, and joy.

It's the inner conversations we have like:
"Wow. That was really edifying to the kingdom of God."  "That was a wise decision; good thing I made that choice."  "Hmm.  Glad that worked out the way I planned."  "I wish other people could see things the way God shows them to me.  Then they wouldn't have that issue." (Ummm---hello, PRIDE.)
Or
"I don't want to go read my Bible.  I'm tired.  The kids are resting.  I just want to veg on the couch and watch Grey's Anatomy on Hulu.  I know.  I will basically be wasting two hours of my day, but I'm just so tired.  Maybe just one episode, then I'll catch up on my Bible study.  God understands.  He knows I'm tired.  He extends grace, so I should take it."  (Um, SLOTH and RATIONALIZATION)  (Side Note: I'm not saying there's not room for actual grace we need to give ourselves in life, but every, single, day?  Come on people.  We all know when it's right and when it's wrong.)
OR
"Look at your prideful self!  Who in the heck do you think you are?  You are no one special.  Pride goes before a fall, and no man wants a fallen leader.  You are definitely NOT a leader.  Too prideful.  Too useless. Too worthless.  What you do here in this house really has no impact outside this home anyway.  Just give up. Do nothing." (LIES!!!!!!)

And there it is: Do Nothing.  The inevitable nail on the coffin.  The final phrase that satan hopes will stalemate me and keep me from doing anything at all for Christ.  My thorn in the flesh?  A deep inner war of conversations in my head that I am constantly battling.

And some time in May 2012, those tires I mentioned in my last post?  They were spinning so hard in neutral from all the "doing nothing" that the rubber was beginning to smoke.  God helped me realize that is all I really was--a bunch of burning rubber and smoke.  I wasn't going anywhere, I wasn't accomplishing anything because I was trying to do it on my own, without putting my engine in drive.

(Did you know that when you become a Christian God gives you a whole new engine?  A whole new motor of motivation?  Problem is, we keep the hood closed all the time.  We forget that He's under there waiting to drive us to new places in life.  We keep our life parked in neutral because that's safe and comfortable and what we know best. Anyways...I digress...)

For some unknown reason, only God knows I'm sure, in one of my spiritual bi-polar moments, God got my attention long enough to truly pray a prayer that I am now convinced is way, WAY more dangerous than praying for patience.
Smelling the stench of my prideful smoke and burning rubber of a life, I prayed and begged God in all sincerity to humble me.
To rid me of all the things I think I know.  To sift me and remove all the pride from my life.  To teach me what it means to be humble.  Truly humble.  To help me understand.  To see life through the humble eyes of Christ.

Yes, I prayed that prayer.

Why?  Because Satan wins when I end on the "do nothing" thought.  God wins when I lose myself in Him.  When I fall on my face in tears of helpless confession, hopelessly abandoned to accept His grace, drowning in His love for me and how much I truly, deeply love Him in return.  When I am nothing, and He is everything in me, then HE WINS.  So there can be nothing of myself.  Nothing.  And self is pride, not humility.  I needed to be humbled.

How do you do this?  How do you become nothing and let Christ be everything?  Faith, trust, belief, grace, love, humility?  That's a long list of things I can't touch.  I can't wrap my hands around them, so I try to wrap my mind around them, but even that is useless because intimately knowing what these things ARE doesn't mean I know HOW to live them.  Oh, it gives me a good head start, a foundation to build from, but to live them?  To live them....

Sigh.  That's another blog for another day, maybe for all the days of the rest of my life, yet isn't that why we have hope?  Doesn't striving for the unknown give us purpose?  Doesn't reaching for God make Him all that more desirable?  Not to be like Him--no, I don't want that job, but to be WITH Him.  If having faith, trusting, believing, accepting grace, loving, and humbling myself allows me to be with Him, in step with Him, walking beside Him, then I guess it's worth figuring out.  So that's what I'll keep doing.  I'll keep trying to figure out how to live them--how to be with Him.

So what happens when you pray for God to humble you? Oh my friend.  I will tell you.....
But for today, I leave you with this thought:
In what ways are you a prideful Christian or person for that matter?  You might be in ways you never considered.  Subtle ways that fly under the radar and go dismissed because we don't stop to think how often we are offenders--or worse, we don't/can't admit that we are this way.  Can you relate to any of the following:
1) Having a strong desire to do my will than God's will.
2) Leaning too much on my own understanding and experience rather than seeking God's guidance through prayer and His Word.
3) Relying on my own strengths and abilities rather than depending on the power of the Holy Spirit.
4) Being more concerned about controlling others than in developing self-control.
5) Often being too busy doing "important" things to take time to do little things for others.
6) Having a tendency to think that I have no needs.
7) Finding it hard to admit when I'm wrong.
8) Being more concerned about pleasing people than pleasing God.
9) Being concerned about getting the credit I feel I deserve.
10) Thinking I am more humble, spiritual, religious or devoted than others.
11) Being driven to obtain recognition by attaining degrees, titles, or positions.
12) Often feeling that my needs are more important than another's needs.
13) Considering myself better than others because of my academic, artistic, or athletic abilities or accomplishments.

Be honest.  I had to.  I had to look at this list because I was in the bottom of a pit and the only way out was the thin rope of confession and repentance.  I had to put a check mark by each of these in my book.  I had to gulp and swallow so much pride; it physically made me ill.

If you were to take up the discipline of capturing your thoughts (2 Corinthians 10:5), how many of them would fall into one of these categories...if only for a moment?

Remember it only took a moment for satan to twist God's words in Eve's mind.

I don't typically like to end on a low note, but see this is my story, and 2012 took me to a very low place where I think so many of my friends and fellow moms in particular find themselves too often.  You can't at least attempt to avoid failing again unless you can try to understand where you veered off the path in the first place.

Subtly twisted lies kept me in neutral while my prideful self kept my wheels spinning faster and faster and faster. Do more.  Be more.  Figure it out.  Push through. God is for you.  Who can be against you?  Never occurred to me that me, myself, and I could be the one I was up against.  It was only a matter of time. Burnout was inevitable.

Still...

....Smile.  God still loves me, and you too!