A month. It’s a long time. I know, because I’ve lost one.
Here’s the answer to a question I ask later: Learning to love.
My eyes saw her from afar. A dear friend. I saw the shakiness, her fragility. The ‘just get through this moment’ spirit she unknowingly exuded. I recognized this as it was where I was a mere week prior. My physical, mental, and emotional life had become a shadow. They weren’t gone, only dwindling. My mind couldn’t discern what I had to do next… how do I become stronger?
I was surrounded by my children, my church and my friends. I made it day by day. Practiced my driving skills again- yup, I can trust myself to drive. I can grocery shop. Doing small things helped to reconnect my brain waves to the words in my head. Staying up for hours trying to explain to myself what happened.
I knew the physical was connected to the spiritual, but I couldn’t make it ‘make sense’ in any way other than by it being two separate entities rather than the overlay I had known it to be.
Hospital. ICU. Ventilation. Isolation. Reality check, how did I get here? Why am I so confused?
The answer was that life took a left turn. Turning left isn’t always a bad thing, sometimes it’s just a new direction. The unexpected happened. Life is now different. I cannot change it, so I won’t dwell in the land of fantasy. I choose to live in today with the hope of a good outcome ahead.
My main reason for writing isn’t a lost month. Although that is pretty significant. My heart has been moved by expectations. I was surrounded in love, encouragement and prayer. I never really felt alone. Which I must say is pretty awesome. But in the midst of all that comfort came being blind-sided. That was eye-opening. That came with expectations.
I ran into fear, not my own, although I do battle that enemy with a mighty spiritual sword. I bumped into other people’s fear, and it was as if I had hit a relational wall. My fragile emotional stamina emptied itself into a muddy mess, and I grieved even more. The loss of connection. The changes that hovered in the distance that it created between myself and the people I loved. You cannot know what others have focused on nor what their hearts have absorbed. And the unknown can be a scary place.
How do you battle a fear that is not your own? I’m not sure that you can. You can accept that that’s where they are at the moment. You can love them from where you are.
So here I was today, in a whole different setting. I looked up and there she was teetering herself into a seat at a funeral. In her essence, I recognized my own recent state of weakness. Yet this week I was a bit stronger. A little further on in this recovery journey. I knew this because my vision had cleared enough that I could see her. Her sphere was so limited she could not see me from a few feet away. Her family had taken a left turn just as mine had. Did she, in her weak state, bump into someone else’s fear?
Oh, how my heart desired to connect with her. To show her love in the tangible expression of simply sitting and listening. Sometimes the journey through pain morphs into being able to comfort someone who is just a step behind you in their season of trauma. And we did connect more deeply than before.
So, what’s the question that I already answered? Here it is: ‘What is the purpose of life?’
It is said that time heals all wounds, I counter that with a caveat: time can heal all wounds when you add forgiveness. And learning to love means trusting that other’s hearts are still good even when they respond in fear.
Be encouraged. Strength grows bit by bit. And the comfort you received can be a blanket to others.
~Debbie G (2021)
If we are afflicted, it is for your comfort and salvation; if we are comforted, it is for your comfort, which accomplishes in you patient endurance of the same sufferings we experienced. -2 Corinthians 1:6
Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you. -Ephesians 4:32
Anyone who does not love does not know God, because God is love. -1 John 4:8
#ComfortTheHurting #ForgivenessHeals #LearnToLove #MyLostMonth
In an effort to get back into my writing chair, I spent some time rereading some dreams in my dream journal. Honestly, there was a specific one I had in my mind to share. I lost track of time as I discovered many I had forgotten about, and a few I simply could not remember at all. I’m not surprised by that fact. And for you to catch hold of why this is, let me explain.
About the time I began single-parenting, first my two kids, then add in the adoption of my foster children, and the dreams began. Busy mom, busy brain, and not a lot of time to process life or spiritual issues. Some were guiding dreams. Others convicting ones. A few profound, you might even say déjà vu type dreams in the past, but the significant dreams started a few years ago.
I only captured a few dreams in written journals in the early days, but when I began this website, I began documenting my dreams in earnest. These days I tap my dream out into my cell phone before I even get out of bed!
I wrote a previous blog called, ‘Feeding the Babies.’ It was a reminder dream that I had many writing projects started and I needed to stay focused on them. (it’s on the website- check it out)
Which brings me back to the rereading of some old dreams. After about an hour, I still hadn’t found the dream I was looking for. I was shocked to discover that I was only on page 15 out of 60. 60 pages of dreams!
Now, if you read this far, I will share with you the dream I had Saturday morning. Note: I always start my journal with the date and time, ending it with a summary of what I feel the dream means. This one is definitely one for everyone to consider.
Dream: 2/10/24, 3:11 am
I walked into my bedroom. There was a full sliding glass door, no curtains. The room was luxurious with glass ornaments hanging from the ceiling. (much too ornamented for my tastes) And I found broken glass on the carpet, realizing that my new swirly-shaped glass ornaments had been broken. One had been a teal-blue color, the other a red.
I saw my son, (a gentle, quiet-giant of a man) outside, through the sliding doors. He was standing near another building looking off into the distance.
I beckoned him to come, and when he opened the slider, I accused him of rough housing with his friends and breaking my items. He tried to respond, but I stopped him several times. When he did get a few words in, he said, ‘No, you don’t understand.’ I slapped him across the face. He continued speaking, ‘… a storm. And there’s an even bigger one coming,’ I ended up slapping him 4 times, alternating cheeks trying to get him to stop talking.
He finally stopped, and I said something to the effect of, ‘No excuses. Now go get a vacuum and clean this up.’
He left the room for the vacuum. The end
My analysis: I believe this is a warning dream about holding onto things that seem precious, and in not believing the truth. Refusing to listen to the impending storm warning. (This is for all people to wake up… and time to sound the alarm.)
Final thoughts: In real life I would not slap my son, so I’m certain this dream came because I hadn’t shared the previous warning dream I was looking for. I will definitely find that one in the next day or two to share on here. I must say that my dreams have morphed quite a bit from being personal to some that I believe are for everyone to ponder.
I do not understand all my dreams, but I log them anyway. I had one in February 2021 that when I reread it in January 2022, I understood it. It was the revelation that my husband would be taken from me. He died in November 2021, a mere nine months after the dream. I’ve learned to pay attention to them.
I do not to post to scare. I believe we can be warned and directed in dreams. And this dream warns of a coming storm and to not ignore the warnings, and to listen to the truth tellers. If I’m prompted again to share, I will post them on here. With the other warning dream to be posted here this week.
Rest well, my friends. I wish you sweet dreams!
Matthew 16:3- And in the morning, ‘It will be stormy today, for the sky is red and threatening.’ You know how to interpret the appearance of the sky, but you cannot interpret the signs of the times.
Joel 2:28- “And it shall come to pass afterward, that I will pour out my Spirit on all flesh; your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, your old men shall dream dreams, and your young men shall see visions.
#StormWarning #ProlificDreamer #ScadsOfDreams #DreamDelegate
The group was huddled, bent over to see what was under the tree… what a vision that awakened me! For many homes around the world this is a picture of Christmas morning. Wondering which gift is for me?
Could Christmas be more significant to me? To my family?
As I wrapped the numerous gifts that a large family necessitates, I made sure I knew why I had purchased each one. I included four elements in each one. The first gift would be something to remind them of their covering. They were once under the umbrella of our family home, but now are scattered and so unique in their settings. I said a prayer that they would be covered by God’s protection in the year ahead.
I added an element to honor their feet. I know, I’m a practical gift giver… but they usually don’t complain. I wanted for them to remember that we stand on solid ground. That we can climb to great heights, and I wanted to cover their walk in the warmth of good news that we carry.
I added a little cash as a reflection on the richness of a heavenly King born in a dark lonely stable. The stark image of a pauper-born King coming so that the poor of earth might live in richness forever.
And finally, I’ll encourage them to grab some of the sweetness I’ve prepared for this day in celebration of the joys of ending the year together. It’s also a reminder that His Words are sweet, and to taste of His goodness. I also sought out individual scriptures for them to hold onto in the coming year.
Although these are earthly gifts under the tree, I seek to focus our huddle on the significance of the birth of the royal babe.
Hopefully as my loved ones walk into the year ahead, they’ll know that they are covered by my prayer that the Lord is guiding them to His light with His Light.
Be still for His presence is still shining for all who will see.
Suggested readings: Covering: 1 Peter 4:8, Psalm 91:4, Feet: Psalm 40:2, Romans 10:15, Ephesians 6:15, Riches: 2 Corinthians 8:9, Sweet: Psalm 34:8, Psalm 119:103
#sweetGift #umbrellaCovering #PauperKing #ChristmasHuddle
Honestly, it was impressive. I instantly connected with the shot. It held thoughts of nature, the mark of love, and a reminder of damaging pain. It was a photo of a paper birch tree with a heart cut into its bark. Time had aged the engraving. The gap had widened. The marking was a deeper tone than the trunk and the grooves had curled with the seasons.
You’ll catch me in my free time outside with a camera, capturing the beauty in my surroundings. Sometimes it’s a glorious sunset, other times I find a tiny flower stretching up higher than its neighbors. But trees, somehow, they speak to my heart. Perhaps it’s because they start tiny in the dark then break out into the light. They stretch their arms to the sky, almost in worship. And their branches spread wide providing shade or a refuge in a storm. They remind me of man’s life journey and how I desire to live.
So, seeing this bark permanently branded with a shout of love to the universe excited me. Imagine feeling love so strongly that you want to memorialize it. But my next thought was of the scarring.
Deep wounds… bad relationships can cause those, resulting in a recoiling, much like the rolling part of the bark. And a desire to move as far away from the gouge or the pain as possible. The scabs of life may heal, but deep wounds scar, leaving a permanent mark. A reminder of brokenness. In relationships, it can mean we’ve been so damaged that we are unwilling or unable to go there again.
The tree, with the heart-shaped cut, is still doing what it was designed to do. It is growing taller. Pointing upward. Providing protection. We too can continue living. Loving is what makes us tick. And loving deeply means our wounds can go to the core. In bad relationships these scars can be viewed as a lesson with the shout of our resilience. And in good relationships they can be a beautiful reminder that we have loved, and we continue to press on.
Perhaps my affinity for trees comes from a singular tree that held Ultimate Love with metal spikes so many years ago. That tree also shouted and still resounds to the universe and to all who will listen that Love Himself lives on. And in that I will say there is great beauty in some scarring.
Blessings my friend,
Suggested reading: John 20:27-29, 1 Peter 2:24, Isaiah 53:5
#BeautifulScars #Resounding Love # LoveLives #ShoutingTree
It was the oddest dream. I found myself hiding along the edges of my high school’s library. Staying concealed made sense as those years were filled with the feeling of self-inferiority and witnessing other ‘unique’ students getting knocked down by words and deeds. Hiding my anxiety, I stayed as invisible as possible. There was safety in blending in.
So now, in my dream, a voice says, “Step into the light.” The center of the library is empty of bookshelves. It’s just a long, carpeted walking path bathed in full light. I recoil at the very thought and press back against the wall.
The voice repeats, “Step into the light.” At this second prompting, I just do it. I stand for a moment and then I begin walking. I’m surprised to see a guy step out from the other side and begin walking with me and before the dream finishes there are several more that joined us in the light.
Now, as odd as this dream sounds, the crazier thing is that I felt impressed to share this dream with my high school reunion page. What!? Share something like this with people I had feared? But the thought wouldn’t leave me. I knew it was a spiritual battle. I yielded and wrote a little blurb. It took about four hours of repeatedly walking away and then returning to reread it before I finally found the courage to hit the ‘send’ button.
My nerves finally settled, and I got on with my day. Here’s the post I sent:
I had a dream that I was back in the school library and realized that there was other ‘wallflowers’ standing on the fringes too. Not sure if that’s you, but hello. Not everyone made social ripples, but we managed to survive our teen years together, so you were a part of my journey. I’ve enjoyed seeing friends connect here from wherever they’ve landed in life.
I’m stepping from the shadows to thank you for the encouragement, for sharing your strengths and for the acceptance I see here. Blessings all.
I was so surprised when others began to share some very hard school situations. They were able to be edified and thanked for sharing their difficult stories. My post received over 100 ‘likes’ and dozens of comments. A few people even connected with me on Facebook. I realized that not everyone had made me feel inferior.
I think I had tried so hard to forget those days that it blocked the opportunity to heal. It had led to hidden unforgiveness in my heart. By releasing that dream publicly (in a small way) I was able to let that pain go. Somehow by sharing the fact that we had gotten through a tough season together it opened up a venue for other ‘wallflowers’ to have a voice.
It’s been almost three years since that dream, and I’m still uncomfortable ‘walking in the light,’ but the healing here is so worth it.
Thanks for listening. Blessings, friend.
1 John 1:7 But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another…
#WalkingInTheLight #LibraryDream #FacingFear #SharingPainHeals
You’ve hit a rough patch, You’re out of options. You turn your eyes to Him and are surprised that His eyes are already on you. Opening God’s word, you ask for wisdom, and he promises to give it.
When you read a powerful scripture aloud somehow the atmosphere hears his words. With your voice, you are aligning yourself with HIM; with his kingdom and his power. He says, “Ask me for My answer.” You listen, waiting for his response. Sometimes it is an overwhelming ‘in your face’ open-door answer, but often it means waiting in silence, sometimes for years as he moves things into position for His perfect response.
And if that’s you. If you’re in year number three and are still waiting, keep in the Word! Keep washing away the impurities we’ve picked up from the world around us. Stay focused on walking rightly and when that door opens, we’re going to fall down in worship, overwhelmed that the Creator of the Universe thought so much of little us to give such a wonderful gift.
One name for God is El Roi. It translates into ‘the God who sees.’ Well friend, El Roi sees you. He desires for you to know him and he’s never too busy that he doesn’t respond to a heart looking to him.
The deepest honor we can receive is the honor God gave to Joseph. First, He gave him the dream. Then came the years of silence as Joseph was rejected by his brothers, sold into slavery, falsely accused and imprisoned. Then when we read that Joseph rose to become the second-highest man in the Egypt let us not make light of the silent years. Joseph continued to walk righteously without friend or family in a foreign land. God was aligning the world and used these hardships to move Joseph into position for the prophetic dream given to Joseph to come to pass.
So, if God is trusting you in a time of waiting, be encouraged. His silence was an answer to that faithful young man, and it can be shouting that He’s working things out for you too.
Provision for the vision.
Rights for the righteous. Favor for the favored.
Food for thought. Blessings,
~ Debbie G
Genesis 16:13 Hagar- ‘the God Who sees.’
Genesis 37 Joseph’s dreams and siblings, followed by the silent years. Genesis 47 Reunited with his father and brothers.
#Waiting #SilentYears #PurposefulAlignment #TheGodWhoSees
There’s a place inside me that feels that if something was once mine it should always be mine. Like a comfortable old sweater, you don’t consciously think about it. You slip it on. It keeps you warm. It’s worn so often it’s like a second skin. Recently when asked how long I’d owned the sweater I realized that I’ve been wearing that thing probably close to a couple of decades. I could I blame my dislike for shopping, but the truth usually runs deeper.
Some friends were gathered at my home and one of the brassier ones told me my clothes were baggy and I needed to go shopping. I became a ‘project of sorts’ as another friend was assigned to take me shopping and to make sure I got some ‘stylish’ clothes. I must admit after sifting through my limited closet selections that owning some of my new purchases felt nice.
There was difficulty in parting with my old clothes, especially if they were gifts, but as they no longer fit, photos would suffice for memory’s sake and off they went to the donation center.
Perhaps it was that filtering through my closet months ago that helped me in my recent move. Downsizing is never easy. So many decisions. Some days I was ruthless and things I hadn’t touched in years flew out the door. But a tiny tin angel made the cut. And why was I keeping an air conditioning unit when my new place had central air?
Okay, the a/c was practical, and I only kept one when I owned four, just in case I needed one in my next move. Well, it made sense to me. And the angel is tied to a friendship which elevated its value. It was a gift during a difficult season, and it reminds me of my friend’s love and to pray for her.
Culling things that have no ties other than that they belonged to someone you loved is trickier. My husband’s collections of tools, acoustic equipment, and computer gear really meant nothing to me and were fairly easy to pass on to others. But a few of his sweaters, his cards, and a generator I’ll probably never use came with me. Sentimentality is tied to the heart.
The hardest gifting was his guitars. He owned several and for years played weekly on a worship team. These instruments held the melody of our early years together. I hold the image of me pecking on a keyboard while the notes of ‘noodling’ filtered through our home. (his term for mindlessly practicing chords or finger picking)
One of his last guitars was gifted this past week. When I discovered that a young man would use this guitar to lead worship in Texas, I sent it off with a prayer. The thought that his guitar would continue to make music in the house of God eased the transfer.
Settling into this new season is challenging. I’m still learning, as we all should be as we age. I’ve discovered that letting go is easiest when you focus on the gift you were given and appreciate it for the season it was yours, rather than the space it takes up in your home.
If you’re having difficulty letting go of something you cannot keep, there are wise words about not storing up things that rust. There is a time to keep and a time to let go. The true treasure is already locked away inside, close to our hearts.
Sending blessings as I settle in and let go. ￼
References: Matthew 6:19-22, Ecclesiastes 3:6
#GuitarGift #TreasureoftheHeart #LastingMemories #LettingGo #Sentimentality
Rope walking or funambulism has been around for centuries. Maneuvering across braided cord while suspended mid-air, this entertainment is dangerous. If you’re like me, sometimes in life, it can feel like you’re walking on a thin wire. It sure would be easier if it were a fence rail or a curb that didn’t move, but as kids we fell off those too.
To glean some skills in getting through those tight spots, let’s lean closer. How do they do it? Well, they start out on the ground. That’s helpful. It’s not so far to fall. First, they walk a straight line with arms stretched out for balance, keeping head up, and eyes looking to where they’re going. Like a ballet, fluidity come through repetition as they learn all the intricacies of movement.
The key to balance is keeping your center of mass (weight) over your base of support (your feet). As mentioned, a pole can be used to counter gravity’s pull. The closer to the wire, the better the balance, so dips are often used to recenter. And although we feel sturdier standing on two feet, a single leg is easier to balance upon up high. Often, the acrobat will balance on one leg and dip. Uh, it’s not for the faint of heart! Another tool used are soft looking leather slippers. (Let’s call them shoes instead, shall we? No slipping up there!) These shoes are malleable, they mold around the foot, allowing it to better grip the wire. Are you ready to climb up on a rope yet!?
I’m glad that training starts low and moves higher. The crazy fact is that it’s just as easy to balance higher up as it is low to the ground. If you’ve noticed, those high-wire walkers use long poles, (sometimes 40 feet long) because the poles themselves dip at the ends which draws the performer’s center closer to the wire. What looks natural so high up has been refined in practice.
Being ‘grounded’ to an aerialist takes years to cultivate. It means being prepared and focused. As faith-walkers, we too, have tools to keep us on the elevated high-wire of life. The rope that entangles many, has been unfurled and is anchored securely into rock. We can walk confidently in our slip-ons, our message of hope. Our daily practice of sitting at His feet refines our testimony to His faithfulness and keeps our core close to our Center of Gravity. Oh, we mustn’t forget the ‘cross’ bar of balance that we’ve been given, as we don’t carry it alone. His strength helps us to hold it. When weak, we keep our head up and eyes fixed on Him, each day a step closer.
And if we’ve learned our lessons well, we just keep walking, regardless of the wind gusts. Like the silence of a deer in the forest or a bird in flight, we too are visible in motion. And as precarious as the highwire looks, our balance was perfected on a firm foundation. In spotlight or darkness, He leads us boldly in the narrow path ahead.
#HighwireWalking #WalkingEquipment #SpiritualHighWire #GetOffTheFence #WalkingTheLine
Some good background references:
Psalm 16:8 and Hebrews 12:2(keeping your focus), John 14:6 (His way), Luke 6:48 (firm foundation), Colossians 2:8 (entangling cords)
Busyness. Focusing on the tasks ahead. Trying to stay one step ahead of contractors and painters means that you are removing things that will need to be replaced.
I’ve taken down pictures, switch plates have been set aside, and wooden doors have been sanded all in preparation for my blessing of a brother to come and paint in his off-work hours. My job is to prepare the room, feed him while he’s here, and although he cares for his own brushes and my paint, it’s up to me to vacuum, replace the moved furniture, and to redecorate my barren walls.
There’s something freeing about a blank slate. With one brush stroke movement has begun. Color is the start of a theme. Eyes can be directed by placement. We can orchestrate our own beautiful symphony in the rooms in which we live, sleep and think.
Do-it-yourself decorating shows are amazing. In one half hour segment, we see the ordinary transformed into a pristine, color-coordinated, picture-perfect snapshot. But secretly I wonder where do they put their clothing or the kid’s toys. We see a never-lived-in room. I can only imagine what a half an hour with my grandbabies would do to the space. Beautiful and yet not practical for most of us.
As we ready our homes for real living, we must consider that life will be messy. We’ll need hidey-holes for trinkets, hobby supplies, and our secret chocolate stash. Active families have busy schedules and sometimes we choose to let the kids help us bake the cookies. And their laughter echoes long after they’re in bed and the kitchen is cleaned.
This morning as I moved items so I could start my quiet time, I read about ‘renewing’ my spirit. And much like the renewing of my living space, I should consider an internal space cleanse. Maybe I stop to evaluate how my actions, how my daily routine and habits affect my day. Perhaps that daily news show that gets me fearful and agitated is a picture that needs to come off the wall. And instead of reaching for the remote I get outside for a walk. And how am I doing with connecting with my neighbors? And as I finish my reading in Ephesians, I am encouraged that the kindness I share will return to me.
So, if you stop by and find that my entrance has spackling marks where a mirror once hung, not to worry, my living room furniture is mostly back in the right spot, and I’ll clear a space for us to visit. I’d rather sit with you, my friends, in my ‘being repainted rooms’ than not visit with you at all.
And if you are undergoing your own spring ‘refresh’ I understand your dilemma but know I’m not looking at your stuff when I drop by, I’m just checking to see how you’re doing. Oh, and by the way, where do you hide your chocolate?
Good reading: Ephesians 4 :17-32
#springCleaning #kindnessReturns #Reevaluate #WheresTheChocolate #BrotherBlessing
I took a trip this past week. The river brings assorted treasure to my shoreline each spring as the snow melts away. This week, a long tree floated up and attached itself to my dock. I grabbed a shovel and walked out with my son. I gave the log a gentle nudge. It easily slid down the parallel line toward the end of the dock. It also easily moved away from the dock when I gave it a little push out. I realized a bit late that there was nothing holding me. Down went the shovel. And oops, down I went. I surfaced to my shout of my son’s concern, spitting out a mouthful of water.
“That tasted better than I thought,” I managed to quip around a cough.
He pulled off my glasses placed them off to the side and tried to pull me over the log, back up onto the dock. My flailing arms, trying to find a grip, gave my specs a good knock and they joined the shovel below.
I had a bit of a challenge getting my son to agree to let go of his hold on me so I could swim out on my own. Providentially, I had pulled on my winter coat as a bit of protection from the northern breeze, it puffed with air and was a good float.
As I sloshed my way back up to the house, I was reminded how sometimes we have unexpected adventures. I’m sure I can use this as a warning to be more careful, and perhaps consider it a baptism for the next part of my journey. (insert chuckle here)
Things are replaceable. I lost a good pair of glasses and a shovel.
And what seems catastrophic can actually be amusing in the end. I knew I was fine the moment I surfaced… embarrassed, but fine. Heart hugs for my son who had lost his dad a year prior and had the shock of watching his mother drop off into the (not so) deep.
And learning new things: like how to care for my magnetic dock, that attracts all kinds of floating items, is challenging. So wisdom, like having someone near-by to pull you out of a jam, is imperative.
Well, keeping a good sense of humor helps too. After all, someone must take the first dip of the year.
Enjoy today’s chuckle… all at my expense.
Today’s wisdom brought to you by: Ecclesiastes 4:9-10
Two are better than one, because they have a good reward for their toil. For if they fall, one will lift up his fellow. But woe to him who is alone when he falls and has not another to lift him up!
I wonder what Jesus saw as he was lifted into the highest place, hanging from a cross on the hill, oh Golgotha. All eyes were on him, this man who claimed one-ship with God.
His friends had fled during the altercation the evening before. Now beaten and whipped, he was adorned with a piercing crown of thorns. Spit upon, to the chants of ‘Crucify him’ from the gathering crowd.
Just what did Jesus see from his unique perch hanging between two thieves?
Did he see the worried people who had followed him for years? Or those he had healed from affliction? How about the people just going about their day, like Simon of Cyrene, who were swept into viewing this spectacle by the pressing throng? Did he see the glint of pleasure in the temple leaders’ eyes as his life blood drained away? Could he hear the soldiers gambling for his clothing or talking about their plans at the end of their work day?
The hot sun baked his naked form as the day progressed. With each minute that passed his lungs begged for air as his hunched shoulders compressed his chest. And as he raised himself for another breath, his full weight pressed against his nail pierced feet. Pure agony.
Near the end of these hours, he spoke to his mother and a few brave friends with words of care. His final words were to the realm unseen, speaking to his Father in heaven. After asking God to forgive these people who didn’t know what they were doing, he gave up his spirit, placing himself into God’s hands.
Had I been there that day I’d like to think I would have been in that small cluster of faithful friends, but I often wonder if instead I’d have been one of the crowd chanting, ‘Crucify him.’
Or maybe I would have stood afar hoping he’d perform a miracle, like the ones I had witnessed, and that he would save himself.
But of this one thing, I am certain, that from his place on high he stared across time, and he saw me. He saw every person that would seek Him, and then He gave of himself to open the doorway to heaven for all who believe.
Forgive me, Jesus. I do believe.
(a repeat from 2020)
#GoodFriday #WhatHeSaw #HeSawMe
With our children, it’s always about the ‘why’. Our littles are trying to piece together the world through our answers. So, in raising kids we endure a season where every statement is followed by a question. In a way, it’s good that they trust us and are digging for deeper understanding.
I adopted five kids from foster care. And in raising these little ones, there was one moment I’ll not forget, I was explaining how babies grew in their mother’s belly. And when I further explained that it was in their natural mother’s belly, my little one responded with a sorrowful whine, ‘but I wanted to grow in your belly.’
For the most part though, the longing these children had for their natural parents was never far from the surface. Unable to understand that sometimes people just aren’t in a place where they can raise the children they love. There was a place inside them that I could touch, but never fill, not unless they chose to let me in.
We too can get stuck, focusing on what we don’t have. Thinking that we must have done something to cause life to change so abruptly. Wondering how to navigate through new situations or challenges.
I lost my husband near the end of 2021. Life for me has changed a lot since then. As I was sitting in church on Sunday, I realized I had moved out of my quiet contemplative state and was easily conversing- connecting with people again. It wasn’t that grief had disappeared, but that somehow love had invaded the void, and I was healing.
Looking back at where I had been, I imagine myself a caterpillar that out of necessity had spun a chrysalis. And for a season I had been readjusting inside. Now, breaking free. I’m outside again, airing these new wings.
And in drawing close to my Heavenly Father, I’ve allowed Him not only to touch, but to fill my empty space with Himself. I find I am stronger in many ways, and I trust that when the wind is right, He’ll point me in the best direction, and I will fly again.
#butterflywings #healinghearts #gettingthroughgrief #why #emptyspaces