faith

All That Needs Said

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For the past few weeks, I have been working on an article, amidst a great deal of drama, anger, tears, etc. (yes, even my own), concerning my chosen subject. A public, much-discussed, and often-contentious subject. You know me, I don’t soapbox except once in a blue moon, and there are so many voices and so many soapboxes in this conversation that I am unsure anymore as to where my voice fits in. And maybe it doesn’t or it’s unnecessary to the public at large. I don’t know. All I know is that this week has felt terrible. I feel surrounded and beset by negative emotion – on TV, on the radio, on Facebook, in articles that I read, etc. And as I read back over my own article draft, even though it was not my intent, it feels angry and condemning in its own right. And that is not the emotion I want to contribute to. It’s made my heart exceedingly heavy, wrung out a good many tears, and destroyed any confidence or bravery I had in posting this article or sending it off to a site. It’s even been difficult to put pen to paper at all this week, regardless of what it may be – journaling, stories, or even just letters. I’ve thought and I’ve prayed but it’s been difficult, I won’t lie about that.

A few nights ago, as I talked with my husband about it, he gave me a suggestion: “You do not have to solve the issue, Mel. Maybe the best thing you can do for people right now is to just tell them you love them. That is the point, right?”

And I thought about it and slept on it. (Probably dreamt about it, too.) And thought about it some more.

So here it is.

To my friends, family, and those in my life, regardless of race, color, creed, sexuality, faith, belief, or philosophy:

I want you to know, today and every day, that I love you and thank God for you.

That’s it.

I love you.

We may not agree on any number of things but that doesn’t change this fact. I love you. I am thankful for you.

Always, Mel

I may choose to publish that article some day but, right now, I think this is all that I need to say.

I love you. You are loved. And don’t you forget it.

 

Heart Taps: God’s Blessings

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From my husband’s sermon yesterday:

Scripture: 2 Corinthians 4

Main Text: 15 All this is for your benefit, so that the grace that is reaching more and more people may cause thanksgiving to overflow to the glory of God.

16 Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardlywe are being renewed day by day. 17 For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. 18 So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.

= = =
“God’s blessings do NOT equal “stuff”, money or possessions or things. The blessings that God gives us to us are the happenings/events in our lives that encourage us to draw closer to Him, even the difficult and “bad” times. The blessing comes in that we become better people, better Christians through having to trust in Him through those times, both ours and others’. We are blessed with experiences that allow us to draw closer to God’s heart and to be good to/for and love on others.”

Breathing Love

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Tonight, as with most nights lately, Elizabeth and I disagreed on the fact that she needed sleep. She didn’t nap today but fifteen minutes in the car so I knew she was tired, as well as all the normal signs being there (flopping on the floor with her blankie, rubbing her eyes and nose, going to the gate to be let into her room). However, instead of relaxing and letting me rock her to sleep, she began to fight me to get up and out of my lap and back to the living room. This was my second attempt at rocking her as putting her down in her crib to put herself to sleep resulted in her a) playing a game of peek-a-boo over the railing where she giggled when I told her to lie down or b) trying to climb out of her crib if I left the room and ignored her antics. So as I held her and she began to fight again and I felt the frustration start to kick in, I felt something in me just urging, “Tell her you love her.”

So I did. I kissed her forehead and told my little girl that I loved her.

And it urged, “Tell her again.”

So I did.

“And again. Don’t stop.”

As so I just began repeating “I love you” to Elizabeth, whispering it on every breath. Breathe in. Breathe out: “I love you.” Breathe in. Breathe out: “I love you”.

At first, it was an odd experience to repeat the same phrase over and over again, but then, as I did, it literally became a breathing pattern. And, also, I saw her relax and calm. Her fighting stopped, her breathing evened out, and those little brown eyes fluttered closed bit by bit. Soon, her paci half-lolled out of her mouth in that way that tells me that she’s long gone asleep. And yet I rocked and held her and whispered, “I love you.” It was hard to stop, I found.

Finally, I kissed her one last time, rose from the rocking chair, and laid her down in her crib, tucking her in with a stroke to her hair and a last-breathed, “I love you.” And that was that.

Now, I do not see myself as having the spiritual gift of prophesying or of being one who hears God clearly and pointed all that often in my every-day life, but I believe that it was God’s voice whispering to me tonight and telling me simply to remind my daughter, over and over, that I love her. Elizabeth is 20 months old, almost two, and she is showing it all the time. She’s adventurous and fearless but also willful and melodramatic and, dare I say it, a little bit spoiled. As a stay-at-home currently, I am her primary caregiver and that includes discipline. So I’m sure, somewhere in her toddler brain, it might seem like Mum-mum doesn’t want her to do anything fun or exciting, or maybe even that I don’t love her. But I do, more than I can say and, often, all I have are those three words: I love you. So, tonight, I believe that that urging in my heart and soul was God’s reminder for me to remind her that I do indeed love her. With every moment, with every breath, with every fiber of my being.

I love you, Elizabeth.

Breathing Prayer

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I have found myself praying often lately, especially when my mind begins to turn tumultuous – dwelling and worrying and the like – or even when it is quiet. I find my self pouring out in prayer. Prayers for myself, for others, over the situations in my life that need guidance or an answer. It’s really me talking to God, and it feels natural, which always amazes me. I was raised in the conservative Christian church; prayer is far from a foreign concept to me. Still, to find prayer – thanks, intercession, honesty about fears and needs, rejoicing, etc. – flowing from my mind, mouth, and pen as naturally as breathing never fails to amaze me. I have found myself lying in bed unable to sleep, my mind racing with worries and fears, and I start talking to God, pouring those worries into his figurative lap. I tell him what I need, where I am lost and need guidance. Am I to go back to work to allow Ben more time for ministry? Am I to resume teaching or strike out into something new and unknown? What would I do with Elizabeth? Where do I put my foot next? What am I to say or do for this friend who is hurting or in difficulty? How am I to be a good friend to them and not simply make empty statements? What do I need to do, or be doing, to be a good wife to Ben? I bring all of these questions in prayer, but I also bring my joys. I’m thankful that Elizabeth is as healthy as she is. I am thankful for our home and the new opportunities in our lives. I am thankful to have met Ben and I am blessed to be his wife. I am thankful to be able to be with my daughter and to blog and write more.

Writing is my preferred method of communication at least 70% of the time, honestly. I write down many of my prayers, but to have prayer flowing easily through my thoughts or my voice, true heartfelt prayers, is a big deal to me, One of the admonitions in the New Testament of the Bible is to prayer unceasingly. I will freely admit that there have been long periods when I have gone without talking to God, that’s what prayer is, after all, and those have been times of worry, fear, and a distinct lack of peace. Praying is not easy when life is hard I do but I trust that they will be. I have faith and that’s really all I can do. Have faith, prayer for myself and others, and follow that leading when I feel it linger in my heart and soul.

Prayer, faith, belief – maybe none of makes sense to you or may apply to your life. That’s all right. It does to me.

The Quiet Christian

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I am a Christian. I believe that Jesus is the Son of God. I believe that he came to earth, lived a life as a human being, spoke unapologetically of God, loved others, gave strength and help and forgiveness where it was most needed, and then gave his life, submitting to a gruesome death as a man whose innocence even the highest authority of the day did not and could not dispute.  I also believe that Jesus did not stay dead but rose up three days after his burial. I believe that it is my responsibility as a Christian to love others, to do good to them, and be as much of a help and a blessing as I can. I do not believe that it is my job to judge others, to tear them down, or destroy their hearts. That flies in the face everything that Christ stands for, in my mind and my heart.

What I realized this weekend is that I am a quiet Christian. As I was in worship service with others, I found myself focusing on the woman who was playing the piano and leading the singing. She was amazingly talented – beautiful voice, wonderful playing, and a passionate love for what she was doing. There was something in her personality that shone through that made me shrink back. In that instant, coupled with other thoughts I have had this weekend, I realized that I am a “quiet” Christian. I do not mean that I am embarrassed by or ashamed of my beliefs. What I mean is that I will rarely be found up front. When I was younger, in college, I sang on the worship team at church, as well as led the drama team. But that is not my forte anymore, at least I do not feel so. The older I get, the less I like to be in the “spotlight” of ministry. I like the behind-the-scenes, the quiet aspects and form of ministry. I’d rather be tidying the nursery, writing the script for the Christmas pageant, or sending cards and notes than being up front leading the congregation. That is where my grace lies

I am an introvert. I am a quiet person. I thrive in the things I can do that no one else but maybe one other person sees. In college, my favorite ministry was Secret Encouragers. We would encourage our student leaders in Student Christian Fellowship – our Servant Family – in secret – with cards, notes, email, and gifts. And we would help each other do so. I loved sneaking around leaving gifts and sending notes that no one would ever know were from me. I ran around campus in the early hours of the morning – fog still rolling off the flagstones – leaving cookies that I had just baked at the doors of professors, ministers, and counselors who deserved my thanks and some encouragement as finals week was about to commence. And I carried a warm heart with me all the day long afterward.

Maybe telling you this is counter-intuitive for a “quiet” person, but this blog is about honestly telling about my life. I enjoy the quiet things of ministry, which, sometimes, can take as much courage and vulnerability as getting up front and leading publicly. And I remember that my faith is one based on love and that any time I do one of these “little” things, even if God is never mentioned, it is a ministry of love. I am here to do good to and for others, to give hearts a boost, and souls some encouragement and soothing if I can. I never know if or when something I may write or text or say may connect with someone and grasp them out of a downward spiral. I cannot tell you how many times a note or card out of the blue has lifted my heart and stopped a downward path cold, nor can I ever say thank you enough for that little bit of love that was sent my way.

So while I may step out into the light every now and again, I know where my work of faith, my grace, my gift lies. It’s in the little things, the quiet things, the things that I may never know just how much they mean but that I want to do anyway just because I believe in it.

Walking Through Storms

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Pressing forward through the storm

This morning has been a very interesting one spiritually. As I’m sitting here listening to my Nichole Nordeman station on Pandora and reading in the book of Proverbs, I’ve noticed that a good number of the songs that come up refer to going through storms and hard times and looking to God through it all.

 

When it’s dark and it’s cold 
And I can’t feel my soul
You are so good
When the world is gone gray 
And the rain’s here to stay
You are still good (Nichole Nordeman “You Are Good”)

‘Cause what if your blessings come through rain drops
What if Your healing comes through tears
What if a thousand sleepless nights are what it takes to know You’re near
What if trials of this life are Your mercies in disguise (Laura Story “Blessings”)

Rather apropos, as there are indeed some storms in mine and my husband’s lives right now and I’m not just referring to my pregnancy. In all things, I’ve been very blessed with my daughter’s pregnancy thus far. Sure, I’m on bed rest right now but she is just fine, by all reports, and I couldn’t ask for more than that. I have some time to rest and my stress level has gone way down and for that I can only be thankful.

What is a storm for me is not being able to help when someone I love is suffering or going through a storm of their own. And when I say ‘help’, I mean actually do something to actually, physically affect the situation to make it better. I know that encouragement, understanding, love, and the like all help really but I am the type of person who wants to fix things, make them better, and, when I cannot, that makes me very sad. I know that my husband is going through some very, very difficult storms right now and it’s all I can do to hold onto him and let him know I’m there, the snow and rain feel so thick and pelt so hard that it hurts beyond words. I can’t see a way out of the storm but I can practically see his spirit and soul being trodden over and broken and I desperately want to stop it, to do something that will make it stop.

But I am not the one with the power over the storm. I am not the one who can command it to be still, or, if not, bring us through it still in tact, though perhaps not minus a few cuts and bruises. I am not the one who can give my darling husband the strength to keep walking, keep trudging, keep putting one foot in front of the other, even if he doesn’t know where it will lead. All I can do is hold tightly,  to his hand, give him all the warmth and love I can, and walk with him, trusting God to bring us through and show us the next step.

It’s all I can do. But if little penguins can make it through an antarctic blizzard and keep trudging forward, then surely God can help two young people hold onto each other and make it through one of life’s blizzard to whatever lies on the other side.

God,

I pray Your grace, strength, peace, and protection be over my husband today and every day, but especially in these moments amidst the storm. May he heart Your voice, feel Your touch, and know that he is not alone, not walking alone, even though things are very hard. Speak peace and reassurance to his heart today and may he feel You lifting the weight from his shoulders, even if just for a little while, Lord.

Thank You!

Amen