Tag Archives: faith

just KNOWING Abba is right here.

The Key.

esther

A rendering of Queen Esther

Where to start this morning…Which way to go….there are so many things I could say ! It is TRUE, my story has been the key to unlocking so many of yours ! I stand amazed at the way God works, even now. Your individual stories touch me, and keep my heart soft. Your words of love and encouragement open my eyes to the fact that God is indeed restoring my lost years. Not just the years of my youth, but the years spent believing lies about myself. So…I will start here today. I am still asking the Lord to show me the truth about myself. Who am I ? What do you want from me ? What character am I in your story ? These questions roll through my mind.

We got up early, and made it to the first service this past Sunday. It was not a great morning in our house, there were bad hair days, dirty fingernails, and wayward dogs. Use your imagination, there might have been some yelling. It didn’t matter, we were going ! And I am so glad that we did. As I stood,  arms raised in worship of the one who is presently saving me, a gentleman came over and spoke to my husband and I. He said that as he looked over at me that God had said, ” Queen Esther ” , he said that my willingness to be vulnerable and truthful about my life would save generations. Thomas and I were both crying. We thanked him for coming over, and then I thanked God for giving me a glimpse of Who I am. When I posted my story I had a vision of freeing my daughters, and my granddaughter…but God has spoken of other women, and their daughters…generations,outside of my immediate family. Amazing. Queen Esther was an orphan, and I have been as well. At first Esther did not want to intercede on behalf of her people to the king, she was afraid. In Esther 4:14 Mordecai ( Esther’s Uncle ) gives her this advice…If you keep silent now, relief and deliverance will rise for your people from some other place, but you and your father’s house will perish. Who knows ? Perhaps you have come into the kingdom for such a time as this !  Esther took her time, she fasted, and gained favor with God, and when the time was right, she shared her story, and unlocked freedom for the Jews.  I believe that is true for all of us. Don’t keep silent to save your foolish pride, tell your story, become the heroine, unlock your future with your past. God has handed you the key.

the story.

It had been going on for weeks….his flirting, his kindness, his deception.  He listened intently when I spoke, and stood up for me when some other silly high schooler  made a joke at my expense.  It is only now, as a 40 year old wife and mother that I recognize what my 14 year old self was feeling…safe.  His attention made me feel safe, and entirely different from my normally unsure, just on the outside of the popular crowd, girl that I actually was.  He was 17, and larger than life. A junior, a football player…Mr. Popular.  In my small country school everyone knew him, or feared him, or wanted to be known by him.  He had a girlfriend, one of the elite, a cheerleader. I was sure that she would be fine when he broke up with her, she would bounce right back…she had everything.  If only I could have seen around corners.

                                             I remember him saying – you need to invite me over sometime when your mama isn’t there, so we can work all this out.  I was so happy. He liked me. This was going to be the day that he chose me.  And so when my mom left that evening, I called him. Then he was there, in my driveway, in my living room….in my bedroom, that he just had to see.  In the space of a few minutes I realized that his plan, and my plan looked drastically different. Physically, he was bigger, and stronger, and suddenly pushy. Mentally, I was struggling, and strained to get back that feeling of safety that I had thought he offered me.  It was gone, and so was my innocence. And then …so was he.  I believe now, that I was in shock, I was shaking, and shaken.   I gave him time to get home, and then I called him, crying ” what have we done?”  He told me then that he was never going to break up with his girlfriend, and then he hung up on me. I cried myself to sleep, broken open. Surely, at school he would be different.

                                  Morning came, and I walked through the halls searching the faces for his. There he was, standing by the water fountain with a group of friends. I gathered all the courage that the 14 year old me had, and walked over. He grinned at his friends, then bent and filled his mouth with water. He raised his head from the fountain, and spit all over me, covering my shirt. He walked away laughing. I walked away a ghost, where a girl had been.

                       All of his friends knew, and then his girlfriend. And she laid out a battle plan to make me miserable. If she only could have known…I was already in misery. She had her friends call me names, spit on me, throw things at me…classic bullying. It got so bad that my 2 best friends told me that they could not be seen with me anymore, the ridicule was running off onto them, and they just couldn’t take it. I did not blame them.  I began to eat my lunch in the office, the cafeteria was too close to hell on earth. I was utterly alone. I wanted to die, but I remember thinking…I don’t know how. I don’t know how to die. I know now that I was being held by the most sacred love, but at the time I felt a nagging inside of me all the time. I changed schools several times before eventually dropping out. And for so many years that brought such shame, and sadness for what I could’ve been. The girl that was me was gone, and had to be grieved. I just found that out.

                                 I spent the next several years looking for someone to love me, and make me feel safe. At the ripe old age of 20, I started an affair with a married man, and then I became his second wife. The lies that I believed about myself were all being confirmed, I was never good enough to be first, I was dirty, shameful, unworthy.  My new husband did not know the Lord, but he was kind to me.  He saved my life. And when we had been married for a year and a half THE LORD SAVED HIM ! He was a new creation. We have been married 18 1/2 years now, and it is still growing and changing. As I realize where I am fractured, and where the lies that I have believed have caused decay…even in my beautiful marriage, even in my parenting of my beautiful children….I start to heal, and hear the truth about myself.  I believed that I was ugly, the Lord says I’m beautiful in an epic way (still trying to figure that one out), I believed that no one could ever really love me, the Lord says I am worth extravagant love ! My husband is the best example of this, but also my kids. I did tell my almost 14 year old this story. I was scared, and ashamed…but she cried and held me as if she knew the 14 year old me, we grieved together, and are stronger for it.

             I had to pull all of this up, and sort it out. I had been naïve, mislead, and bullied…the worst part was, that I was still letting it happen as a grown woman.  I am new, resurrected…a better wife, and a better mom. A better daughter.  I know it was long, I hope it brought light.

 

Pen to paper.

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Before I can tell my story , I have to write it. I put pen to paper yesterday, and the memories came rushing back. Tiny details that might seem so unimportant ran down my cheeks while I wrote. I had no idea how hard it would be to dig my history up and pick it apart like a scavenger . But it’s worth it, I’m finding out just exactly who I am . The Lord has called me wholehearted, and that is what I’m becoming.

Story telling…

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What is it about story telling ? We do it as parents, its sweet and filled with sweetness, or mystery! And we do it as friends…as a way of connecting with one another. We sure do a lot of it as moms. Get a group of moms together, and you will hear a ton of stories about the battle, the potty, the hood (the motherhood, that is)….the struggle.

              It is important to share our stories on a primal level for women. It is imperative for our survival, we need tribes. Simple. We were not meant to do this alone. And yet so many of us do. I am so guilty of this, of wrapping myself up in my home, my world, my kids, my blanket of lonliness. I recognize it. Yesterday, I started the process of sharing my story and felt so much love and courage from the ladies who read it. And then last night, I crashed. My family went to the gym, and I stayed home. I sat and cried. It was true , just like my new friend Rhonda said…you have to grieve the past. I don’t know how many times I might just break down and cry, but I know that I am not alone in it.

   What does it look like when we stop choosing the stories we tell, and start telling the whole truth ?  Who will it affect ? Mostly us. The power of testimony. That’s the superhero power that I choose.

Yesterday morning I stopped running from my broken heart.

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  Yesterday morning I stopped running from my broken heart. Yeah, that. The process got started at the women’s retreat last weekend, and I don’t know when it will be complete. But I am not running. My broken heart really started when I was 14 years old. My daughter will turn 14 in a couple of months, and it has been like a nightmare that causes me to twist and turn, and tear up my sheets at night.  What I know is that you won’t actually die from your broken heart, but the ways you find to cope with it on a daily basis, and the ground you lose in your battle to be your REAL you…could kill you. So, I woke up yesterday and I looked my husband in the eye and said – you saved my life. I might have thought it a time or two over the last 19 years, but I never said it. So …I opened my mouth, and let the words fall out. And then I cried for that 14 year old girl who was pressured, unsure, scared, pushed around, spit on…left to rot. I thanked God that I was never lost to him, he had marked me, and knew where I was at every turn. I held my daughter and I smelled her hair…she is covered, and I blessed her her spirit with the secrets it takes to be strong. I let my husband hold me while I stood still and felt my broken heart. It hurts. But it is better than pretending that it doesn’t, while you walk around in chains that other people can’t see. The chains were keeping me from doing so many things that I want to do ! My next big step will be to share my story, my broken heart with my daughter. It’s a day I have been dreading, and running from. I will be still with her, I will be who I am, and allow her to see the broken and how it is starting to heal. My story will indeed unlock the chains that have been around my heart holding it together.

Oil.

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The past couple of months have been rough with little lion boy. Good, but rough. More emotional outbursts, more of the words…I hate you, and more tears on my part. We are homeschooling, which takes the pressure of going to school off of him. On the flip side, it puts a ton of pressure on me. Pressure to teach him what he is required to know for 6th grade, pressure to do it right. Sometimes I forget that there is no one standing in the shadow waiting to tell me that I am not doing enough, or doing it wrong. So I have not been the most flexible with our schedule, the Lord really brought that to my attention last night as I prayed for wisdom during, yet another, emotional outburst from my son. The Lord also brought up the fact that with our new business,( and new puppy too) that we had been preoccupied, and not giving enough attention to little lion boy. It’s been the holiday season, every kid has had parties, plans…issues. Which has lead to impatience, aggravation, and whining. and that was the grown ups ! Fast forward to yesterday with me in bed, praying…asking what can I do ? What am I missing ? So simple. I heard it loud and clear. My little lion looks strong, and brave, but in fact after so many years of battling school anxiety, administrators, parents expectations, try this and try that strategies, no gluten, no sugar…fish oil….He is dry, and brittle. The least little request, or criticism sets him off. It’s no wonder, that’s a lot to deal with. So… we are specifically setting aside the next 6 weeks to pour oil onto this little lion, to watch what happens when we say- the job, the friends, the activities, and yes…even the homeschool, it all comes second to filling him up. Moisturizing, and bringing back to life the places that have become so brittle from the battles.

Reign.

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When I started noticing people talking about their WORD for 2014 on social media, I was inspired to find out mine. I sought it out, I prayed , and I thought about the resolutions that I had been thinking of making. Reign was the word I heard. I looked it up, although I was fairly certain I knew the definition.
Reign- royal rule, or authority. to have influence.

Hmmm. Sort of sums it all up. More than anything, I want to guide, and influence my children. I know in my heart that I have the royal authority to this ! I believe in the kingdom of God , and the power that He gives me. It is a concept that I am planning on working on in 2014. In my home, and in the world around me. Planning. Not promising. I am constantly being tested in this, and I am only 1 week in.
I want to have influence because of who I am, not just the words I say, or yell. I want to have an influential whisper. Yes, that is it exactly. In my minds eye I can picture that, and what it looks like. Now…to practice it.

Season, reason for the season, seasoning, salted with fire….and so on.

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    Tis the season….to be jolly, to be tired, to be overwhelmed and exasperated.  Tis the season to be…amazed, to be hopeful, to be childlike and blissfully innocent.  Tis the season… to be tested, to be insulted, to be hurt and healed.  Tis the season… to sing, to dance, to cry and to worship.  Tis the season…to love and be loved.  You can sing those words if you like, I can’t hear you.

      Every Christmas season, I find myself writing about Mary.  How could I resist ?  The subject, the story…is just so delicious, and dangerous all at once .  I know she was scared, and I know she was full of faith that this rocky road was hers alone to travel.  A destiny that she would not deny . A beautiful baby, a cross to bear.  Unrestrained love, and unspeakable pain.  One in the same. Motherhood ….magnified.

              As I sit and type, I want you to know…I am a mother. I have given life, and I have spoken truth, I have guided gently, and I have spoken as sharp as a knife. I have loved honestly, and with my whole heart…shattered at times.  And even when I think that I cannot take any more, God keeps picking up the pieces and putting them back together in this mosaic work of art….work of the heart (ha !) So Mary…I lift you high, and I think on you during this season of Christmas, and during the hard seasons of mothering.

To my kids…

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  I will hold onto you until it is uncomfortable for us both. I will tell you when you are wrong, but I will SHOUT when you are right. I will listen to you with my spirit along with my ears. I will study you, find out what makes you tick, what upsets you, and what brings you crazy happiness. I will sneak around, and hide presents on your birthday, and Christmas. I will get up before you on those days , and sit with my camera aimed, just to catch a glimpse of your joy. I will nurse you when you are sick, and pick you up when you fall. I will talk funny, tell jokes, stand on my head…if it will make you laugh. I will cry, I will pray, I will go to battle against everyday enemies and lies that come against you. I will walk through fire to get to you.  I will nag you about grades, and manners, and kindness, and the fruit on your trees. All because you have been entrusted to me. I will kiss you on the lips until you ask me to stop, I will hold your clothes up to my nose even though you don’t smell like babies anymore. I will look into your eyes while you are telling me that story from class today, I will be listening, but also blessing your spirit…with all that you are, and all that God calls you. You will pretend not to notice the tug on your heart as our spirits touch. But I will know. I will watch you grow, and try to hang on loosely. I love you all so much.

   Almost grown on my own girl – you have a daughter now, I hope that you will see how heavy the love can be. Having that butter bean is the bravest , most valiant thing you have done yet. She has changed all of us. I could not  love either of you any more if you had come right through me.

Man child-  you are the truest young man I have ever met. You go ALL IN. You love with everything you have. You would be the one to run into a burning building to save others. It’s who you have always been.

Little big blue eyed girl – I love your joy, I drink it in, just like I breathe in your hair at bedtime. You love me well, and I am grateful. You impact people, it’s a privilege, and a responsibility, but you handle it with grace.

Little Lion Boy- You are my baby, who is not a baby. You love on me with a fierceness that surprises me. Your hands are the softest, and strongest al at the same time. You are a contradiction. You keep me on my toes. Your love of justice encourages me. You wage wars on your fears and it amazes me. Love you so.

                            That is all. If you didn’t know it already, you are all my treasures.

 

Lessons in love…

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 It is only now that I am composed enough to write about my week. My daughter had a baby. Yeah, that one has to sink in. I expected to be emotional, and to cry, and to feel an enormous amount of love for my new granddaughter….and I did. What caught me off guard was the enormous love that I felt toward my daughter. It rushed in like a wave and swept me under. I have had the incredible urge to swaddle her up like a baby and hold her. I have no idea if this is normal or not. It is one of the strangest sensations, and yet…I like it. I cannot claim that the beauty Layla has comes from me, her button nose, and little rosebud lips….not mine. However,  I would love to think that the amazing job that Sidney is doing as a new mommy has filtered down through me. She is doing so great, and is in love with that sweet little bean. So even though I heard someone say- oh she isn’t her  real mom , in reference to me ( those words stung like a bee, FYI), the Lord whispered something very comforting to me. Love cannot be inherited, only offered and accepted. I have learned this week that love cannot be too early, or too late .