Philemon

I don't talk about God and religion very much because I have a strange relationship with both.  My pastor is, however, happy that there's at least a relationship.  I never have liked taking orders. And I'm not one to judge others for their actions or how they live their lives.  Thus I don't always do well in organized religion.  I do believe.  I just don't always like the people who call themselves believers.  My guess is many of you can understand what I'm saying.  I'm really just saying this at the beginning so you understand where I come from on this.  Sometimes, God can put something in my path that makes me furious.  And other times, He brings me something that helps.

A few years ago, my pastor decided to start up a bible study.  It was a long one.  Took about ten months.  At the very beginning we had to read a couple of short passages.  One was to read the book of Philemon.  If you're wondering what in the world that is, don't worry, so did everyone else.  But it is a book in the New Testament; right between Titus and Hebrews.  In my bible, it's about a page.  In some shorter bibles, it's two pages, either facing each other or front and back.  There's only one chapter and has a total of 25 verses.  That's it.  Takes about five minutes to read.  It's shortness is probably why it is often over-looked.

It's one of the letters that Paul wrote while in prison.  While there he wrote a letter to his friend, Philemon.  It starts out like most letters do, "Hope all is well... Timothy and the others send their love... yadda yadda yadda..."  But then he starts to speak of a man who he is currently travelling with.  The man's name is Onesimus.  Onesimus was a slave owned by Philemon who ran away.  Somewhere along the line, Paul and Onesimus met up and Onesimus became a Christian and began following Paul and helping him.  Paul, in the letter, shows great affection and love for Onesimus, but knows that he needs to return to Philemon and answer for running away.  So Paul is writing a letter to Philemon explaining what had happened and for Philemon to welcome Onesimus back into his home.  The verse that struck me the most in this chapter is the twelfth verse:

"I am sending him -who is my very heart- back to you."

To this day I'm not quite certain how to explain how I feel when I read that verse.  But every time I read it, all I think of is my son.  He is my very heart.  And I had to send him back.  Not to slavery, nor to the family that I took him from; obviously I did neither.  I just had to send him back to the forces that gave him to me in the first place.  And from there it had to be decided to what to do.

Being a birthmother has a lot to do with faith.  Faith that the birth will go well.  Faith that the people we give our children to will take care of them.  Faith that they will keep in touch with us and honor us.  Faith that everyone around us will at least let us do what needs to be done even if they don't agree with it.  And faith that one day our children will understand why we did this.

When I placed my child for adoption, a lot of the future I was taking on faith.  It was scary. Definitely the hardest and most frightening time of my life.  But I knew this was the only thing to do.  There was no other choice.  So far, things have been good.  I hope they stay that way.

I hope all of you are having a good weekend.  I hope you find your peace wherever you may find it.

Can I Come In?

Several months after placing my son for adoption, I was invited to come to a Methodist church to be a substitute piano player.  I play piano and have done so since I was nine years old.  I don't play that much anymore and eventually I would just be a casual member rather than a piano player.  The pastor at this particular small town church is a woman named Teresa.  On my first meeting with Pastor Teresa in the morning before service, we talked for a while about a variety of things.  But then because this is a small town church and because I was more or less committed to telling the truth to people, I decided to tell her about the one thing I thought could get me kicked out of this place.

"I have to tell you, the reason I came back to live with my parents was because I got pregnant," I say to her.

"It happens," she said with a nod.  Now realizing that if I did leave this church it would not be because of her, I continued,

"And my boyfriend and I didn't have the ability to give him a good stable home so we placed him for adoption. It's an open adoption and I get to see him."  She expressed her glee and happiness that things had worked out so well for everyone involved and I realized that I would not have to fear telling this woman anything.

Religion has been a strange subject in my life.  Mostly it's because I had something of a weird upbringing on the subject.  Stuck between a Methodist and a fallen away Catholic who both decided the Unitarian church was the one for them (until I was nine and after that we didn't go anywhere) meant my religious education was rather weird.  But, it has also left me more open minded.  For now I attend the Methodist church when I go to see my parents and a Lutheran church in the town where I live if I stay for the weekend.

After everything that happened with my son, I wasn't quite sure that any church would let me back in.  I had (obviously) has sex before marriage.  I had bore a son and placed that son in the arms of others to be raised.  These still carry a bit of social stigma and much social stigma (let's face it) comes from religion.  So you can probably understand my nervousness.

But just as I've been extremely lucky with who my son's adoptive parents and how everything turned out, I've been extremely lucky when it comes to find churches that will let me in and won't bother me about anything that I've done.  Both the Methodist and the Lutheran pastors at the churches I have attended have passed the test.  They and many members of both churches have seen pictures of my son and have talked to me very positively about what I've done and what all happened.  And it has been a help to me.

I hope that all of you have the courage to look for the people who will help you.  And while you may have some bad times, I do believe that sooner or later, you will find people who will support and believe in you.  And trust me, they will let you back in the door.

Fighting Fear with Peace

Oh girls, I have really been fighting fear lately. I mean on a level I have not experienced before. All the ebola and other sickness news has had me awake at night and on the edge of my seat by day. Sunday morning my pastor opened the service by saying he knew there was fear all around us. And he knows that many of us are really struggling. But that the God of the Bible is not afraid and not caught unprepared. As children of God, we needed to make a decision. Were we really going to put our faith into action? or were we going to let our fear consume us and dominate our lives?

I needed that challenge. I so want to be a true follower of Jesus even though it's completely counter-cultural. So the next day was Monday and I sent both of my kids to their Monday co-op despite Peanut's headache. I spent the day talking to the Lord, telling him the truth about my fears and even crying a little bit. It wasn't so much a goal of 'feeling better', I just knew that drawing closer to God would give me peace.

And so it was. Peanut's headache turned into full-blown vomiting that was still raging out of control 24 hours later. I opened a notice that said our life insurance had been canceled. And with family vacation looming on the horizon and laundry piled sky-high, I was at perfect peace. Like crazy peace. Like as still as the surface of a lake in the early morning peace.

In this crazy life, the only place to find peace is in the Lord. There is nothing else. No pill. No bottle. No sport or tv show can compare. If you don't have this peace, message me. I'd love to talk with you about it.




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The Lie of Irrelevancy

Recently I attended a conference of sorts that was looking for ways to reach the younger generation, specifically those in their 20s. Now the organizers, attenders and most speakers were in their 60s so the generation gap is noticeable.

My situation is that I'm not 60. And I'm not 20. I'm somewhere in between. Yet the conference organizers were not focusing on reaching ME. They were focusing on reaching those younger than me. Much much younger.

Because of the way my brain works, it took me a couple days to sort out all the information I had heard and been bombarded with. And it left me feeling irrelevant. As in unimportant. Such a yucky word. And so deflating for someone who walks everyday in her purpose.

But my friend was quick to come alongside me and remind me that that lie of irrelevancy was straight from the pit of hell. We all matter. We are all important to God. And we all have a specific plan and purpose for our lives. Just because I'm not 60 or 20 does not take me out of the game.

Are you feeling irrelevant today? Is something making you feel that you don't matter? or that you are not important? It's a lie. Don't fall for it.

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Be Who You Are

I feel like I write about this all the time, but I promise I looked back to make sure. It doesn't look like I've written anything like this for a couple months at least! 

It probably feels that way because God is always teaching me, and I think this is one of the Big Lessons for my year: Be who I am. 

Just like you, I am special and unique and created for a purpose. God knew what he was doing when he made me stubborn and introverted and all the other sometimes-annoying qualities about me. I am who I am and this has been a year of resting in that. Now that's not to say that I'm always growing and trying to be a better version of myself, but there are just some things about me that I cannot change.

Take my age for example. I am aging and trying to come to terms with it. Last week I went to a different dance class than I normally attend and was pleased to see a brand new instructor. She and I had attended class together many times, but now she would be teaching! I figured she would be good and I was right.

In the middle of class, about the time I think the instructor is trying to kill me, it suddenly occurred to me what was happening. I was following her and doing what she said instead of doing my own workout. In any kind of aerobic exercise there is a wide range in which to operate. I push myself as much as I can while also listening to my body. Well I was not doing that. I was doing her workout. And it was too much!

It's sometimes mentally hard for me to realize I just can't jump around as much as I used to. But the more important issue here is that I continue to exercise and take care of my body. It is not reasonable for me to try and keep up with someone who is half my age. Some ladies can do it, but I am not one of them.

In your life, remember that you are who you are. Rest in the fact that God knew what he was doing when he made you a particular way. Don't wear yourself out constantly trying to be someone else or something you're not. It's ok to be you. You are the only one like you.

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The Grief Cycle Part 4: Depression

If I was honest, I'd say that I've been struggling with depression on and off since age 13.  It's hereditary in my family.  And my life hasn't been a cake walk.  Granted, no one's is.  But when one is already genetically predisposed to this condition, it doesn't take much to trigger it.

So you would think that having been through it before, I would know when I was in the middle of it and how to get out of it again.  And you and I would be wrong.  I didn't figure out that I was sunk hip deep in the middle of a depression until I was sitting in a room with about twenty other birthmothers staring at a simple diagram of the grief cycle in May of 2013.  But it did make me realize what had now been going on for the past five months.

So now I drove back to Georgia with the knowledge that I was hip deep in a depression and not sure what to do about it.  I'd tried counseling.  It's worked for me in the past.  But now money and health insurance and one friend who is a psychologist trying out a few until I found the right one just discouraged me.  I do still think that counseling is a very good way to understand and cope and should definitely be utilized.  I just lost patience.  So I decided to take the summer and just drop into the thick of it.  If I was going to be depressed, fine then, I would be depressed.  I went to work every day on time.  I wrote a few things here and there.  I watched a good bit of Netflix and YouTube.  I drifted rather listlessly through life not really trying to do anything other than keep breathing and keep walking, always trying to believe that sooner or later the way out would reveal itself.

I would talk to various friends online.  But I didn't really have any friends in the city that I hung out with on a regular basis or really even knew.  I had a few friends and acquaintances from work.  But most of them were married or older than me.  Not really the people you call at ten o'clock at night hoping to go out for a pint.  And for some reason I was paranoid that I would have to cut ties and leave this city just as quickly as I had left Columbus when I was pregnant.  I had no basis for this thought in the rational world.  It was just my own paranoid brain making up something so I wouldn't have to deal with anyone and wouldn't have the chance to find friends just to lose them.  Most of all, I didn't want anyone new to have to be exposed to this half-human version of myself that I was at the time.  But sometimes the universe has other ideas.

I had met a guy in June.  His name is Rob.  I didn't speak to him again until August.  And a year ago this week I ended up spending almost all week with him at various functions and parties.  He became my first friend in Athens outside of work.  With him came others.  People that he introduced me to.  One of whom is named Kristin.  When the three of us met, we were all recovering from terrible points in our lives for a variety of different reasons.  I can honestly say that this time last year was the turning point for me.  This was the moment where I found people I could relate to; people who didn't mind where I had been or what I had done; people who understood depression and understood sinking into that ugly blackness in order to get to the root of it all and understand why it was there.

Rob pulled me into the writer's group that we are both members of.  And because of that, I started writing more.  I started writing more stories and more poetry.  One of his friends was the reason I went to the open mic poetry reading where I found my son and his adoptive parents that wild night in October.  My son's adoptive father is the leader of that poetry group and I still attend every week to read and listen to more and more poetry and hear what others have to say.

Because I was writing so much, it was only natural that eventually I would start to write about my son and what I had just been through.  I began to take Ernest Hemingway's advice to heart: "Write hard and clear about what hurts."  I wrote blistering and blazing poems that described in gory detail just how much I hurt.  And it was luck that the few times the poems were said in public, either Rob or Kristin were there to hold me after saying everything that there was to say about what was wrong.  They didn't question or judge.  And I am forever grateful that they have been there.

Writing, it seemed, was my path out.  When I wrote, I finally released everything in my chest that I had stored up there.  I was starting to understand the root of it all.  While what I had done was something good, something that I should have done, something that I shouldn't be ashamed of, and something that was the best decision for my son, what I had done was incredibly painful.  I had given birth to a son and then placed him in the arms of others.  I had given birth to a son and then sent him away.  I had given birth to my first child, and now he was gone from me.  In my attempts to try to settle with what I had done, I had never quite acknowledged the pain that I was in.  The pain that, of course, anyone would be in after having to do something like that for the sake of one's child having a better life.  And finally, finally, I was venting that pain and wrapping bandages around the wounds and coming out of the dark.  I had finally gotten to the point that I didn't want to be in the dark anymore.  I was finally starting to climb out towards the light.

The way I got out isn't for everyone.  There were some very dark days in the midst of this and there were days that I didn't want to get out.  Like I said before, I have nothing against counseling or psychotherapy or even medications used to treat this.  I've done them all.  Find what works for you and use that to your advantage.  These treatments are tools that you can use to get out of your depression.  So is writing, art, music, and talking with trusted friends or clergy.  Whatever you need to get out, please don't ever be afraid to ask for it and don't ever be afraid of what someone else thinks of you for needing it.  This is your life.  Do what you need to do.

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Facing my fear

Hello ladies. This week I'd like to take a break from our talk about boundaries and go a different direction. Something so much easier. Or not.

A recent phone call from a dear friend brought me to my knees again. Her and her boyfriend had had another knock-down-drag-out sort of fight. While he's never been abusive, their relationship has always been super-intense. Know what I mean? Things are either super great or going to hell. It's a total crapshoot.

Anyway, I got a call from her after one such fight and tearfully she said, "It's over I guess," something I have heard more than once. As the details of their latest encounter unfolded, I felt anger and even something that may be construed as rage well up inside of me. I wanted to punch him, honestly. I guess we all have that in our nature when pushed to a certain point.

At the time my girls and I were on a very long walk, which was probably a good place for me to be. They were riding their bikes and when not on the phone with my friend, I was talking, out loud, to God and I guess anyone else who was listening. After a few minutes of fuming about the situation, I realized my problem was not anger. Or even rage. It was fear. I was afraid.

Fear is often at the root of many of our emotions. But usually we don't like to admit it. Instead of saying we are afraid, we say we are 'angry' or 'frustrated' or 'at the end of our rope'. And sometimes we are those things. But sometimes we are just afraid and either don't know it or are afraid (ha!) to admit it because we think it will make us look weak.

So what do we do? As a Christ follower, I know that God knows everything about me. He knows when I'm afraid even when I don't realize it. By telling him the truth I am showing that I trust him and his plan for my life even when I can't see it.

So what does that look like? For me that night, on that walk, it looked like saying out loud that I was afraid and naming my fears. Not simply a blanket, "Lord, I'm afraid," but a specific naming of what I was afraid of.

As I trusted those scary things to God, he brought back my peace. I was once again able to look around and enjoy the beautiful evening, the cool breeze and the view of my children being children. He can do that for you if you will trust him with your fears, too.

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Disapproving Friends

How do we express our boundaries when a friend disapproves of our actions? Recently I was having a conversation with a rather good friend. She has been supportive of my writing endeavors and I told her about some recent events. She then asked me if I had told my mother about all I was doing. I said no and was shocked by her disapproving look. I started to defend myself but then thought better of it. Shouting at her over the roar of the bowling alley is not my style, so I chose to wait until I got home and link her to some of what I've already written about that most difficult relationship.

Later that night as I was reflecting on the day, I started writing in my journal. Apparently I had a lot to say! My reasoning goes something like this. The closer I grow to God, the more myself I become. It's not about being anything other than who God made me to be. My friend thinks I'm wrong to do the blogging that I do without first talking to my mother. I guess I can either live what's left of my life for my mom or I can live it for God. I'm trying my best to honor her, but I won't let fear dictate how I live or what I say or do. I feel like I kept my mouth shut for so long because she didn't want me talking about 'it'.

But that's not who I am anymore. I have a brain and a mouth and I know how to type and as long as you, God, give me words to say and an audience, I'm going to keep talking and writing.

So who is it in your life that is holding you back? Who is it that despite all your efforts and hard work still calls you names? We've been talking about boundaries a whole lot here, and I believe this is more of that same theme. Because she is my mom and I love her, I continue to fight to find a way to have a relationship with her. But I can't do that without knowing what my limits are and how to express them in a way she can understand.

This life is exhausting girls. I'm so glad I am not on this path alone.



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A Word about Encouragement

I have had a very good lesson on encouragement recently. Those of you that know me don't laugh, but I joined the summer softball league at church. No, sports are not my thing. But I felt like God wanted to grow me somehow through the experience. So I joined and toughed it out.

Growing up, I was the dancer in the family and my sister was the athlete. So the laughter that spilled out of her when I told her about signing up was understandable. But I'm not afraid to try new things, so I was not deterred.

Mostly I have held my own during our games, but two recent games really stand out to me. In the first, I had my kids there cheering me on and a teammate who was constantly giving me positive messages. In the second, I had neither. Consequently, the first of those games I played very well and connected with the ball several times. In the second, I struck out every time I was at bat.

This has reminded me how important it is to encourage one another. The Bible says it this way in 1 Thessalonians 5:11 "therefore encourage one another and build each other up...".

This group is so good at doing that. I love the way we can share our joys and our struggles with each other and instead of judgment, we receive encouragement to stay in it, to fight the good fight and to have hope.

Thanks girls for being here for each other. That encourages me this day.

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The Journal and the Storm

I've heard it said that if you're not currently experiencing a storm in your life you're either about to go into one or you are just getting out of one. I guess in the broad sense, that's true of all of us. Some storms are short-lived, some seem to be lifelong.

However I continue to believe that God is right beside me no matter my circumstances. That the reason I'm a follower of Jesus Christ is not so that he will insulate me from life's events but so that He will walk with me through the storm.

I love to journal. I haven't always been consistent, but am happy with myself when I am. For my birthday last June my friend gave me a journal and I have been pretty regular since then. Some days my thoughts are muddled, some days they come out like prayers. I love being able to look back over my written records of the past and see God at work, even when I didn't know it.

I've told you about my husband's accident. Here's part of the journal entry the night before his accident:

 Jesus Calling today says this: I will not show you what is on the road ahead, but I will thoroughly equip you for the journey.

I'm feeling very anxious tonight about all that is coming up in the next month...Help my attitude be one of thankfulness, LORD. 

Jesus Calling is a devotional book I like to read every day. Re-reading this reminds me that God is not surprised by our life's circumstances. He is not caught unawares. He always knows what's coming. We can't know, and may not want to know, but we can trust God to hold our hand and guide us through it.

Have a great day.

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The Main Thing

If you are anything like me, you are currently experiencing some of your hardest days. Since my husband's accident 2 weeks ago, our lives have been turned upside down. I'm not sure if I'm coming or going or just dreaming (I wish!). I've never been so tired, so discouraged, or felt so out of control for a very long time. For sure, not ever in my adult life.

And yet, life has never been simpler. I remember a long time ago a youth pastor said these words to me: The Main Thing is to keep The Main Thing The Main Thing. Profound, right? As I sit here tonight after spending most of the day in tears, I say yes, that is some profound thinking right there.

I've cancelled my calendar for six months out. I've had to back out of commitments I've made. I have no idea what tomorrow holds.

But I'm at peace. Totally secure in the knowledge that God is on His Throne, that none of this is a surprise to him. I am not alone, not abandoned. He is everything I need. I don't have to do this on my own. And if I look hard, I can see so many blessings coming out of these circumstances. I can see so many prayers being answered in a way only God could pull off.

So I challenge you tonight to look really hard at your life. What are you thankful for? Start telling God. Despite your situation, what blessings are coming your way? Start telling God. Those things are there. I know they are. If I can see blessings in this mess, so can you.

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Medicine

Over the past week I have become well acquainted with medicine as both a practice and a drug. As my husband was lying in a hospital bed after fracturing his hip, I couldn't help but muse about medicine. Granted, I was overtired, under a lot of stress, and may or may not have lost touch with reality for a moment. But still I kept thinking about medicine and its practical application to my life. Here's what I came up with:

1. Medicine is yucky. It doesn't taste good, which is why the song from Mary Poppins is so important to know: Just a spoonful of sugar makes the medicine go down....
2. Medicine is inconvenient. It's never easy to either obtain or stay regular on almost any type of medicine. It requires a doctor's visit, a visit to the pharmacy and usually some outlay of money. Additionally, it usually has to be taken or ingested in some form or fashion. Just because we go to the pharmacy and get the medicine doesn't mean we will get well. Which leads me to my third point.
3. Medicine is necessary. My sweet husband was in loads of pain and needed some relief. Also, the doctor needed him to heal without his blood clotting, so added a blood thinner to his regimen.

So where am I going with this? Where I usually go. Into my head and down into my spirit. I am a broken person. I need healing. I need medicine but not any that can be bought. I need God's healing in my broken places. I need his touch in the dark places in my heart. I need his hope where I feel none in my soul. I need that kind of medicine.

But the truth is that God's medicine is no different than the other kind. It's yucky. And hard. And it hasn't taken me too many days of living this way to ask God to please give me my life of ease back. I know there will be blessings on the other end. In fact, I am finding things everyday to thank God for.

This medicine has been inconvenient. I have had to cancel things on my calendar this week that won't happen for months. But because of the nature of this injury and impending surgery, I have no control over timing and need to be available for my husband.

Finally, this medicine is necessary. I don't know the whys or the hows or the impact to the future, but I know there is purpose in the timing of this injury. I may not know for a long time or I may never know. But I have the hope that this reordering of our lives is for a reason.

Is God speaking to you today? Is he tugging at your heart to do something new or different? I know change is hard and it's never a really good time. But I challenge you to go ahead and dive in and see what he has for you.

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Word of the Year: More

So the trend of picking a word for the year has finally reached me. To date, my friends have chosen faith, intention and longings. Despite the fact that I love words, I have been a spectator to this sport for the past few years. Sure I have looked at this word or thought of that word, but I've never really picked one to be my "word of the year".

How does one go about picking a word to think on throughout the course of a whole year anyway? How do my friends come up with these words? Of course faith and hope and love are all good words. But there are lots of good words that one could choose. Depending on the day or time of year or weather, Webster is full of ideas for the moment.

But that's not the type of word some seem to choose. Like at my church, our theme for the whole year is Surrender. So according to my pastor, everything we are studying this year we are doing so through the lens of surrendering.

So, with all of that being said, I am choosing the word more for this year. What's funny about that word to me is that I live in an affluent area where more seems to be the norm for everyone. But that's not where my heart is. My more goes along with the Sonicflood song More love, more power:

More love, more power, more of you in my life;

And I will worship you with all of my heart,

I will worship you with all of my strength,

I will worship you with all of my life;

You are my God.

The place that I currently find myself is one where I see how utterly destitute I am without the God the of the Bible to help me. It would seem that the longer I know Jesus, the more right I have to feel superior. But the truth is the longer I know Jesus, the more clearly I see my own depravity, my own wickedness, my own propensity to be hurtful and judgemental and morally filthy.

Because of that, I need more of God. More of Jesus. And more of the Holy Spirit to guide me and teach me. I am redeemed. I am the righteousness of Christ. But because I still walk on this earth, I am nowhere near perfect. I need more of Him in every part of my life.



So do you have a word for the year? If so, what is it and why did you choose that particular word?

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What has been your Hardest Decision?

Recently a friend in another group posted this question: What has been your hardest decision? While we are all birthmoms in this particular community, I noticed that she didn't reference adoption specifically but rather left the question wide open. After reading some of the other responses and formulating my own, here is how I responded:

The choice for adoption was not hard for me. I knew from the beginning that I was not able or equipped to give my daughter what she needed. I knew that she needed two parents who were emotionally and financially stable enough to care for her needs. I was neither.

Forgiving the birthfather was tough for me. It took me six long years to work through my feelings, emotions and anger towards him before finally realizing I needed to forgive him so I could move on.

Forgiving myself was even harder than that. I continued punishing myself for years after I had let go of my anger towards Chris by telling myself over and over that I was worthless, that it was too late for me. I had messed up too much and there was no hope. No one would ever want me again so I might as well do what I wanted with whom I wanted. I was as worthless as trash.

But even as hard as those things were for me, probably my biggest challenge was trusting God with all of it. The God of the Bible tells us that he can use any and everything to bring glory to himself. In Romans chapter 8, Paul tells us, ...there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, ² because through Christ Jesus the law of the Spirit who gives life has set you free from the law of sin and death.

Having been raised in church and having literally no where else to turn, I gave God a try. The road didn't get any easier, but for the first time in my life I felt truly accepted, truly loved, despite all I had done. Regardless of  my stupid decisions and times I had made bad choices, God loved me. He wasn't ashamed of me, ashamed of my unplanned pregnancy. He wasn't afraid to walk with me, to hold my hand, as we journeyed through those dark places in my soul and He healed them.

Adoption wasn't my hardest decision, not by far. It has been trusting God to take the broken pieces of my life and put them back together in a way that is beautiful and useful.

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When Dreams Die

As life swirls about me, I am often fascinated by my own life circumstances as well as those of those close to me. Oftentimes I wonder how I would handle such a life event only to remember that God gives grace when it is needed, and not before. So here are a few life circumstances going on around me right now. Maybe you can relate to one.

I have a very good friend who is a birthmom. Her son is in his 20s and has recently told her outright that he doesn't want a relationship with her. This lady is never married and has never borne anymore children. She is out of graduate school, out of a job and back living at home. What now?

My husband was recently passed over for a job promotion. Now granted, his boss did not get to make the decision. Also, he was by far the youngest candidate for the position. But how does this affect his future at the company? What does he shoot for now?

One of my Community Bible Study gals is a dear woman who was looking forward to the next chapter of her life. While she and her husband had battled through many issues over the years, they stayed together, worked through them, and came out on the other side better and stronger. One morning on his way to work, he died in an accident. What is her purpose now? Where does she go from here?

So what happens when we have been living in the land of wishful thinking instead of the land of reality, as in the case of my birthmother friend? How does my husband keep going and set new goals? How do we move forward when we don't want to?

I have no easy answers, ladies. I know in my own life there have been places where I would have been content to just lay down and die. But in each instance, God gave me grace and purpose to go on. Just this week I have been encouraged by Paul in his letter to the Philippians. In chapter one he writes, " If I am to live in the flesh, that means fruitful labor for me... I am hard pressed between the two. My desire is to depart and be with Christ, for that is far better. But to remain in the flesh is more necessary on your account."

If you are suffering today, if you are at the end of something and unsure where to turn next, ask God to show you. Ask him for the grace to get you through to the other side. I'd love to hear from you.

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Despicable Me 2

I know that animated movies aren't real. I mean, obviously the people aren't reals and the characters are just drawings voiced by someone else. We took our kids to see Despicable Me 2 last week and I really just have to write about it.

In the first movie, we meet Gru who is grumpy and irritable and an overall mean guy not to mention a villain. He adopts three sisters in order to gain access to another villain's home and stolen goods.

But then the good part happens. He falls in love with the girls. They steal his heart away and before he knows it he is no longer stealing things or focusing on his work for that matter. He takes them to an amusement park and even gets his face painted.

However, his old self still struggles for control and alas, he loses sight of what's really important and lets go of the girls in order to focus on his work.

In the new film, we see a totally changed man. Not only is he a devoted family man, but he has given up his life of crime for good. He has retrofitted his lab and retooled his minions to do good work. He has his priorities totally in order so much so that when a lucrative offer to go back to his previous life appears, he quickly flees the scene.

This film is the story of redemption. It shows us that we're never too old, too far gone or too mean to change. Sometimes we have to come to the end of ourselves in order to see ourselves clearly. For Gru, it happened after adopting three sisters.

Tell me, what's it going to take for you to come to the end of yourself? to realize you need a change? to take that first step in a new direction?

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Recent Disasters

All the recent disasters both natural and personal have got me thinking; how can we know our own way? How can we understand our situation in light of the 'big picture'? What is the meaning of it all? And what the heck is really going on?

This post talks about the Bible, so consider yourself warned if you continue reading. The book of Proverbs has been of considerable interest to me over the years, but specifically this past year. While being considered a 'wisdom book' it is also very practical. I'm a practical gal. I need to be told what is right, what is wrong and what I should be doing. I don't need fancy words; short and sweet works for me. That's why I like this book.

On Monday morning, I read these words: "A man's steps are directed by the LORD. How then can anyone understand his own way?" Later that same day, a tornado devastated the town of Moore, Oklahoma. I bet there were many people that day wondering what the heck was going on and why.

Incidentally, the cross-references for this verse includes Proverbs 3:5-6, "Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight." The Bible is actually asking me to put all my eggs in one basket regardless of whether or not I know what is going on. Regardless of what the future holds. Regardless of what my present holds.

I think this is a pretty brazen request. I think this life is hard. Actually, I know this life is hard. And so often I don't want to trust; I don't even want to think; I just want to act. I want to fix it, and if I can't fix it, I at least want to do something to help.

My heart has been broken this week over another natural disaster, yet there's nothing I can do about it.  

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The Other Shoe

This week I feel compelled to write 'the rest of the story' as Paul Harvey used to say. While last week's birthday was heart-wrenching for me, it was also a day of celebration. Let me explain.

Remember if you will that my unplanned pregnancy took place in an era where that sort of thing was not celebrated nor hardly discussed. I was sent away to a maternity home to be pregnant, give birth, place the child then return home as if nothing had happened.

The God of my childhood seemed to be silent. And although I attended church every time the doors opened be it for youth group or choir or services, I was pregnant. Not in my wildest dreams had that ever been my reality.

Unknown to me at the time, the God of my childhood was indeed present and at work. I just couldn't see it until one night, close to the birth of my child, I felt that same God calling me to him. I was sitting in a church service, for we had many on the campus where the maternity home was located, and I felt a presence or heard a voice or some combination of those things. I knew I was not alone. Not for the sea of people around me, but for the peace I felt on the inside. Finally. There was peace.

And that was the cause for the celebration side of things last week. That same God who reached down and pulled me out of the pit is the same God who, 26 years later, is still by my side. He's the same one who carries me through weeks like last week and fights for me when I have nothing left.

He's still calling me, and still teaching me things about himself. Despite the sadness of last week, that fact gives me the strength to smile and have peace and continue putting one foot in front of the other.

If you want to know more, feel free to email me.

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Words

Recently I was invited to speak at a women's retreat a few hours away from my home. It was such an awesome time to get away and be with my mom and not with my children. Not that I don't love them. If you're a parent, you get what I'm saying.

All the time preparing for this retreat I kept asking God to give me the right words. Words that would build up and not tear down. Words that would point them to God and not to the world. Words of wisdom that would impart to them wisdom and courage.

Since that time, I have heard this new song by Hawk Nelson on the radio. While I'm not a songwriter, I think these were the words I was praying as I prepped for the retreat. And while the retreat is over, I hope some of it sticks with me. I hope I am changed by preparing and teaching other women. And I hope my own words to my children build up and encourage and love and not tear down and belittle and despise.

How are your words today?

Thankful

Well friends, it's turkey time again. It sure seems like it was just a few weeks ago we were celebrating the holidays and here they are again.

In preparing to write this, I was thinking through all the things I am thankful for. Of course there is all the usual stuff. But in this season of thanksgiving, I find myself thankful. Just thankful. I'm thankful for the God of the Bible who is always right beside me guiding me and showing me the way. He never leaves me and never bores of my endless questions, wonderings, and wishes.

He guides me in such a perfect fashion that when I look back, I can't see the seams of worry and temptation. I can't see the lines of confusion or the almosts or the should haves. It just all makes sense from the point at which I am standing because I know it took all of those twists and turns to get me where I am.

Take me and my birthdaughter for instance. The relationship we do have is the result of years of getting to know each othe combined with our current family situations. Is our relationship what it has been or what it will be? No. Our relationship is what it is right now. It will change as we change.

God provides for me in a way that is far beyond what I could ask or imagine. I look at the way he has met my needs and his creativity makes me laugh. He gives me things I desperately need but don't have the words to ask for.

If I could ask for the perfect relationship with my birthdaughter, I'm not really sure what it would look like. But God, who created me, knows just what I need at the stage of life I'm in. At first I thought taking on a relationship with Katie would be a burden. But it has turned into a happiness I can't describe.

What am I thankful for? I'm just thankful. Thank you God for doing your work in my life. Thank you for knowing me and making yourself known to me.

Happy Thanksgiving.

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