Sunday, December 20, 2009

In grief

Sometimes life is like being on top of a ridge. The trees fall away and the view opens up. One can see for miles around and the bright sunshine illumines everything in sight. It is easy to see all that God has done and is doing. More often days seem like walks in the forest where the views are limited to glimpses of the glories beyond the trees. Dust and tree roots occasionally take the eye away from the grand vistas just visible beyond the trees. Other days, darkness presses in so heavy that the light seems gone; the path faint if present. It is then that faith points the way, not out of the darkness, but toward the light unseen, yet trusted.

I chose to trust Your hand in the darkness. I chose to hear Your voice in the night. Even if the answer is not the one that I seek. I trust Your love. I trust You.

Thursday, December 17, 2009

I like stories.

I would rather read a novel than an encyclopedia. I suppose that most people would. Many times I have caught myself looking to the Bible as an encyclopedia. I turn to it to see what God says about this or that. I have even counseled new believers or seekers that they should begin with one of the gospels rather than reading the Bible like other books where you start at the beginning and finish at the end. It struck me today (while running) that the Bible isn't an encyclopedia. It is, rather, a story, the greatest story ever told. It is a love story, a true story, a compelling story. And as such it should be read with an eye toward theme and story line. From Genesis to Revelation, the themes are laid out: God is. He is powerful. He loves me. He pursues me. He wins me. He wins. Anyone for a good read?

Thursday, November 26, 2009

Did it!!

While training for my last marathon, I noticed that running wasn't really that much fun anymore. Today, I started on a four mile run. I haven't been training and knew that four would be a difficult run. About two miles in, I was running well and getting very tired. My husband drove past with the kids on their way home from the park. Since my training schedule called for a two mile run, I asked him take me home. I wanted to be done. I'd done what I was supposed to do. Then, I decided not to get in the car. I decided to do something hard, something that I didn't want to do. I'm glad that I did. It was actually fun.

Monday, November 23, 2009

Back in the Saddle, Again. . .

My husband tells me that I am a runner. I tend to argue with him on that point. My running life has been rather on-again, off-again for the last four years, although it wasn't much more committed before that. It seems to me that real runners run, not just read about it or encourage others to do it. This winter, I have set a goal for myself. I am planning to run our local running club's Winter Series, not just the Winter Series, but the Long Series. This morning was my first run after two weeks off to nurse my husband and move. When I left the house, it was clear and cold. I pushed up the hill to get into position to watch the sun come up and ran toward it's blinding rays a few minutes before it tucked in behind the low-hanging clouds that filled the sky. When I first sighted Pike's Peak, it's top was just under the clouds, but as I turned for home, most of the mountain was curtained from view. I soon felt the first wetness on my face, but didn't feel the full force of the wind-driven snow till I started down the hill. I then began to be thankful that I had turned for home when I had. By the time that I walked up the driveway, the snow was being driven sideways past the trees. I was glad to return to the warm house. I've run in snow before, but I have never had the joy of running while watching a storm come in before. It is one experience that I would love to have many more times. Seeing the beauty and power of God's creation on display was a wonderful way to start the day.

Sunday, September 6, 2009

I'm not two. . .

When my two-year-old says, "I don' wan to," with a little pout and a stamp of the foot, it is an opportunity to mold her character and teach her about obedience. But, somehow, seeing her do those things, reminds me that I often do the same thing in my own heart. It is amazing how many fights I have with my husband over something that he kindly asks to do for me. Rather than accepting his kindness, I find myself saying, "I don' wan to," in my heart, if not with my mouth. Even worse, I find myself saying the same thing to God. Though I know that God's way is best and that He only sends blessings that are meant to make me stronger, I often don't want what He says is best. I think that I could choose better, and I catch myself stamping my foot and pouting that, "I don't want to," when He sends another challenge. I am the spoiled child refusing to accept the kind correction of the Father that loves me and knows better than I do. So, when I deal with my daughter's heart, may I always remember my own heart and lovingly correct her as my Father does me.

Sunday, August 2, 2009

Anne

For several reasons, I started rereading the works of Anne Bradstreet this last week. Though I had read much of her work in college, this time reading it meant more. So many of the fears and struggles that she expressed are ones that I find myself facing. I recognized the fears of my own heart in her poem written before delivering a child. Her questions and conclusions about her faith struck a familiar chord. Her perspective on the suffering in her life, challenged me to keep believing in the goodness of God. In her meditations, she expresses parallels between her daily life and her spiritual life, as I have tried to do here. Reading her work made me feel less lonely. Almost as if she were a kindred spirit that I know only by what I read. As I read her work and feel the blessing of knowing that another has hurt and questioned and believed, I pray that the thoughts that I attempt to capture here will in some small way be a blessing if in no other way than that I will have thought them out more fully and forced them to stand up to the test of logical expression. (At least I hope that it is logical.) I am so thankful that I had the chance to revisit the lovely work of this old friend.

Monday, July 13, 2009

Not a Running Blog

I am beginning again to train for a race. This time, I want to run 13.1 miles. I haven't run a half marathon. It seems like it would be a fun distance, a bit of a stretch, but not all the preparation and agony of the full marathon. Now, I am working out a training plan that will prepare me for the half and take into account my recent sabbatical from the sport. In the last marathon that I trained for and ran, I just put in the miles and gutted through the race with little enjoyment or real engagement. This time, I am attempting to put more effort and focus into each training run. Maybe that is because, I haven't really left myself much time to get ready for this race, or maybe it is because I am investing more meaning in this run than in others. Whatever the reason, I ran with a specific goal today. As a result, I am excited to be training and eager for my next run. I haven't felt that way about running for some time. I kinda like this running thing (again.)

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

To Be or Not to Be

Asleep or awake, cold or hot, thirsty or satiated, in all of those states, there is a very small line between being in one place or the other. An alarm, a blanket, or a glass of water all can change a person's state in a very short span of time. In just the last few days, I have experienced another change of state. One that is a bit harder for the mind and heart to process. When most women go from being pregnant to not there is reason to rejoice. For our family, that transition is again not one of joy, but one of sorrow. One of the most difficult things about losing a baby in the early weeks is the mental adjustment required. To go from just trying to think through the joy of finding out about the baby to the sorrow of his death causes a real emptiness where there should be a fullness of joy. Suddenly, when I reach to cradle his tiny body in my stomach, I have to remind myself that he is no longer there. Now, when I walk past the maternity clothes at the store, I turn away with tears in my eyes rather than eagerly wondering what new clothes I might need for this pregnancy. There are physical effects of a miscarriage that can be diagnosed and explained, but there are many other emotional effects of losing a baby that aren't confined to the two or three weeks that it takes a body to recover. The event of the miscarrage may be short lived, but it takes a mind and heart awhile to catch up. It will take my mind and heart a long time to catch up.

Pink?

This spring I went with my husband to get a new pair of shoes. I figured that while we were at the running store, I would get my new shoes as well. I always get the same brand and model of shoes. (My foot is rather particular.) They were out of my size and said that they would have them in a few days. When I went back to pick up the shoes, I got a surprise. As she took my credit card, the clerk made a comment that these shoes were very popular because of the color. It was then that I looked at the shoes for the first time. They were pink. Not all pink, but pink in the way that running shoes are any color. I have had many pairs of running shoes, twenty-three years' worth. In all that time, I don't think that I've ever thought about having pink shoes.



For many women, this might have been a pleasant surprise, but I have always had an aversion to pink of any shade. I was especially nervous as my husband has been known to buy me running gear to match my shoes. The ironic thing is that the longer that I have had the shoes, the less the pink bothers me. It is also ironic that due to a series of events, I have been wearing my shoes more but running less, so they have maintained their "new" appearance longer than most of my running shoes. And so, the girl who has always gone out of her way to avoid being girly kind of likes her pretty new pink shoes.

Saturday, May 23, 2009

Tag

I am new to the cyber world and playing "Tag" in cyber space seems a bit . . . silly, but since my husband "tagged" me, here goes:

8 Things that I did Yesterday:
1. Prayed with my husband
2. Read to my children
3. Celebrated the last day of school at the park
4. Read my Bible
5. Talked to a friend
6. Whispered "I love you" to my little girl
7. Watched hockey, and basketball, and baseball
8. Walked in the rain

8 Things that I Wish/Want to do:
1. Own land
2. Finish my scrap books
3. Know God
4. Read more
5. Bless my children
6. Bless my husband
7. Run
8. Be a good friend

8 Things that I am looking forward to:
1. Spending time with my parents and grandparents this summer
2. Traveling to D. C. with my husband (without the kids)
3. Seeing my "other children"
4. Sharing the lessons that God has lovingly taught me
5. Teaching 2nd grade and Kindergarten in the fall
6. Running a long race
7. Taking quiet walks outside
8. Football season

While there could be many more items on each list. "These are a few of my favorite things." At least at this moment in time, they came to mind.

The Giver of Good Gifts

I am pregnant again. Anyone who has been pregnant knows that there are many emotions and feelings associated with the first weeks of finding out about a new pregnancy. No matter the circumstances there are always feelings of fear, hope, joy, and sorrow. My emotions have been a bit more unsettled this time around. I find myself assuming that we will not carry this baby to term. I think that this is my way of self-protecting. It is easier not to invest than to face the idea of losing another child. But as usual, God doesn't see it that way, and as I am learning, He isn't content for me to rest in the comfortable niche that I have made for myself. He has wonderful lessons for me to learn even in the quiet places of my mind.

In the quiet dark of this morning, lying next to my sleeping husband, God whispered into my heart that this child is also a gift. Just as are the three sleeping down the hall and the three waiting in heaven. Each child that I have carried, if only for a few weeks, is part of my family and my life. Each one has been a gift to me from the One who only gives good gifts, from the One who blesses me each day with the smiles and love of my living children. And from the One who has blessed me to carry three other precious little ones. Whatever time that the LORD God of Heaven and Earth chooses for me to have with this child is a gift, and I do not want to squander this time no matter how long or short by fearing the path ahead.

I trust you, God to do and work the thing that pleases you with my life and the life of this little one. Thank you, too, for this gift.

Monday, May 4, 2009

The Gift of the Marathon

Yesterday, my husband ran his first marathon. I am so proud of him. Watching him as he labored along the course and then finished in victory, caused me to think about several things. I wanted to be running. Whenever I see others running, I want to run too. I hoped that he was having fun and savoring the experience. The marathon is different than many events in that one might train and prepare for many months, but not get to finish the race for reasons out of one's control. The race and its running are a gift.

Life is a gift. Each step is a blessing and should be taken with joy and thanksgiving to the God who has given it. Sometimes, I function as if, I have control over the events of my days. But when, I recognize who is really in control and enjoy each step, I have more fun and so do those around me.

Today is my "marathon." Today is my opportunity to relish my gift.

Saturday, April 25, 2009

Sand Paper

My kids are like sand paper. Sand paper is rough and irritating and really good at smoothing out rough patches. Sand paper is used to remove the splinters and defects in a piece of wood. I have lots of rough edges that need to be removed if my life is going to be a blessing to those around me. My children often show me the selfishness and pride that I effectively hide from myself and others most of the time. With them, I see most clearly how I horde my time and energy to do things that please me alone. I see that I am motivated by what will make me happy and not what pleases the other person. Because of them, I see that my love is the love of word and not of deeds, and I am humbled and brought low. I see that the love that God has for me is an active love, and I see how far short I fall of the love that He has called me to.

And, because of them, I see what it means to die daily with Jesus Christ. My daily death comes when I choose to put down the rake, and push a swing instead. My death with Christ happens when I sit down and slowly savor a book instead of vacuuming one more step. My choice to die daily shows love for those around me when I order my days in the way that will bring the most joy to my family and others instead of scheduling my time to protect time for me and my private enjoyment.

The piece of wood that is fashioned and smoothed has little choice to resist the work of the sand paper in the hand of the artisan. I on the other hand, have a choice that must be lived out on a daily basis. Will I allow what I have seen to shape my life and make it a blessing to others, or will I continue to live for myself?

Monday, April 20, 2009

Writer's Block

When the computer is inaccessible, I am a Hemingway (Yuck, I really don't want to be like him.) just waiting to be discovered. Then the time comes to try to write, and I find that not even spell check can tidy up the mess that my wild thoughts make of the screen. I've been working for some time on a blog about the unfortunate finish of the Boston Marathon, but it seemed like a waste of time for me to type let alone for you to read. Maybe, I will try again another day. . .

Monday, March 2, 2009

A few weeks before Christmas, I went out in the evening to do some errands. The roads were icy, and snow swirled in the wind. Walking across the parking lots, I noticed that most of the other shoppers had their heads down, tucked in their coats. It was the reasonable and even sane thing to do, but I just couldn't bring myself to waste such a lovely storm by hiding from it. I raised my head to feel the wind whipping the snow against my face. The wind and snow weren't the only things that struck me.

Sometimes things happen that make me want to self-protect. I feel as if making wiser choices, or being more careful, or taking fewer chances can lessen my pain. I determine to live life to minimize struggles. After our baby died, my husband and I talked about if we might want another baby. Honestly, I'm afraid. What if this should happen again? What if we have a baby that is sick? What if? What if? What if? “I don't want to feel this way again!” is my first response, but there is another way to respond to the pain that comes as a natural course of life.

There is surrender; surrender to the One who loves me and wants the best for me. But surrender involves risk. Life is full of risk; there is always something to lose. There is also something to be gained when we let go and take a step of faith that makes no logical sense. It can't be explained and those around us shake their heads at our apparent insanity, but I want my kids to learn to risk. I want them to try new things even when they are afraid, even when it might not make sense. I want them to learn to walk by faith. So, rather than tucking my head into my coat to hide from the storm, I'll throw my head back to see the glory hiding in the storm that God has chosen for me and in the process enjoy the snowflakes melting on my cheeks.

Friday, February 27, 2009

Taking the plunge

yikes! I hate water. I am especially terrified of jumping into a pool. To me, this blog thing is a lot like having a well-meaning friend come by and push me into the deep end. Though my 1337 hubby has been urging me to write a blog for some time, the final "push" has come in the form of many events that we neither one would have guessed at or asked for. So here I am. I hope that in some ways this blog can be a way for me to share the "thousand blended notes" of my days and the journey that God has mapped out for us.