Sleepless Two Years Ago

(Found this in my draft box! Thought it goes well with the previous post--time flies!)

Daughter and I are awake in the middle of the night. She is watching videos on YouTube. I am reading Richard Foster's book, Prayer: Finding the Heart's True Home.

Why are we still awake:  I drank two Mountain Dews at 9:00pm. Daughter is still on west coast time.

Both of us are hungering. Searching. Feeling the pull...The Pull. He touches us in our own uniqueness.

It's been a year since I've posted anything to this blog. What words could spill out of me that would satisfy the need of putting down my thoughts? Why have I wanted to do this? There is a need to "get out" what is festering, bothering, tormenting, consuming, nagging, overwhelming, thrilling, and driving me. A year ago, daughter was leaving to go home with her boys. In two days, they board a plane and the vacancy is relived.

I smile when I see these pool balls clustered together.
When daughter and the three grandsons are on the plane,
I'll look outside and the memories will be as vivid as the color
on these balls. I pray this picture be symbolic of three brothers
who will ever be close as they fulfill their God-given destinies. 

We have talked. Jesus. Both of us journeying. I know her desperation. I know her torments of inadequacies. I know her desperation of parenting. She has done much better than her mother. I am proud of this only daughter.

Jesus, You are always present. In this, middle of night, you are God with us. What have we made hard, that you long to reveal is quite simple? What have we made complicated, that you want to untangle? What have we concocted, that you want to redirect? What have we missed, that you want us to find?

Daughter and I battle our thoughts and feelings and are learning to resist the consuming audios that rob us of Your love and joy. It is a mystery, this grace of Yours. We are tired making it into what it is not. Help us both to trust Your truth. Letting Your truth guide our trust.

Sunrise is coming. I have to say, a nap may be on the day's agenda!

Insignificant Days Shape Character

How do people blog everyday? At first it was exciting because it was new; and in my case cathartic. So now it's old and I'm "catharted" out!  At least publicly!

Each day is part of a journey. A day, in and of itself, doesn't seem significant unless there is something major or out of the ordinary happening--to my thinking!. But those so-called insignificant days really are the most significant part of our lives.

I've been reading a book called, The Order of Melchizedek by Ian Clayton. I've only gotten through the first chapter and so far that first chapter is all yellow!!! Marked! Underscored! Comments in the margins! Not sure 'churchianity' would "ok" the author or the book! My year of insignificant days has lead me to this place, time, and author. A year of studying and musing the book of Hebrews embedded a quest with many questions and conversations about Melchizedek the priest; whom Abraham ran into as chronicled in the book of Genesis. (11 Intriguing facts about Melchizedek:  http://overviewbible.com/melchizedek-facts/)

There are significant things in each day...whether we recognize them or not. And we usually don't! As a believer in Jesus Christ, each moment is part of eternity. The Forever Now! Time is only a concept for the time we live in our physical bodies on this earth. Yet as a believer, I am more spirit and soul according to the scriptures. Jesus says that He is in us and we are in Him. Where He is, is where I am! He says He is with the Father in the heavenlies. So where am I? I'm with Him and He is with me during these insignificant days full of significant moments. If He is with the Father, seated with Him, could it be that I too am in the heavenlies? No wonder these moments are significant if the answer to that question is yes! The trick is to keep this astounding revelation at the forefront of my conscience. This opens up new seeing! It enhances listening! It pushes and stretches. With new discoveries, come new chapters in daily trusting.

Ian Clayton states in his book, it's all about character building.

Question! As old as I am, isn't my character pretty established for the remainder of my time on earth? My "formative years" are pretty much behind me, but yes, there is room for improvement. Is the goal for a new and improved Juanita? Not necessarily!

The new seeing, new listening, new formation of character isn't so much about Juanita, but who am I projecting through & by my character. If Juanita is what people, relationships, strangers come away with then I am diluting the image of Christ. My life is to exude and/or reflect the One who created me. And my reflective character of Jesus is a daily, on-going lifestyle. What's the formula for daily significance in the character development of reflecting Jesus? Loving God. Loving myself. Loving others. These are the witnesses of character building in Jesus, of Jesus, for Jesus.

One of those insignificant days
while at Myrtle Beach this year.
God's magnificent and significant sunrise.

Here I sit. A year and half later.  Writing a blog and sifting through past times in an effort to put into words how different I am from the last time I sat here. I feel different. I know I'm different. LOTS of my beliefs have been challenged. Lots of beliefs expanded, moved deeper, and taken on unexplainable life. To summarize I think I would say, I've gotten a teensy, weensy, ever so small glimpse of eternity. There are no words to describe what awaits us beyond the bounds of this dimension on earth. Exploring and submitting to the character building that daily insignificances perform truly do add up to a year and a half of Christ significance.

I have to say, it may take another year and half to live out what I learned in the last year and half!

Golly!

I have a new favorite word--golly!  Two Words:  Downton Abbey. Lord Grantham's favorite word used to express inexplicable news, ideas, or situations.  I rather like the way it rolls off the tongue.  Sounds sophisticated! Golly!

Golly! Has it been almost three years since I've posted. The purpose in creating this blog was for my own cathartic health. Doesn't mean I have or haven't been healthy mentally, spiritually, or emotionally in the last several years...but it does mean that life goes on. And for the most part it's been maturing and tedious. It's been enlightening and at times, feeling like I'm still in the dark. Again, that's life...golly!

I've found some new authors. They are rather off the beaten path. Not the normal Christian bookstore type. Off their rocker types! Arthur Burke, Paul Cox, Paul Virkler...men and their wives who love the Lord like nobody's business...that's undeniable. Strange teachings, far-fetched at times, new language, and new concepts. All of which are up my alley. All of which scare me. All of which means God is up to something.

I emailed a friend late, late last night expressing my last couple of weeks.

Golly, this is reminiscent of a sleepless night about 6 years ago. The desert years! Reading your Christmas email on that night, going to your blog brought the best drink my spirit had ever had. So, I went to see if you had posted anything recently. God is... can’t find the right word, so I’ll leave it at that!

It’s been a rough couple of weeks.  I’ve never had such a quick dive into the depths of “yuck”! I feel like I’m in this huge industrial mixing bowl and whatever recipe has the most ingredients, well, that’s me and those contents in that gigantic bowl. 

I just realized that I may have discovered the “what’s up” with this?   

Father is mixing up something and I’m fighting it. Why am I wanting to know what all the ingredients are? Is that why this feels so intense, so suddenly? If I just let Him mix it all up and I quit trying to keep each ingredient separate; trying to “identify” it, let Him have control of the mixer and let Him blend away....because I don’t think I want Him to mix another batch like this one!!!! So who cares if I don't know what all the “stuff” is? Maybe He’ll let me find the recipe card after this thing is baked! I think I best let the beaters have their way and let Him get on with the folding and blending.

All my props that have served me well, are not working. Self-sufficiency isn’t so sufficient anymore. I’ve found the con side of control! Bossy doesn’t make for happy hubby! And my take charge and ‘git-her-done’ comes off with an abrasive tone. (So my daughter ever so lovingly and gently revealed. Thank God for only daughters who have surpassed their mothers' in godliness.)

Is this what maturity in the faith is? Throwing into our spirits the deeper ingredients and stirring us into holier people? Praying for Him to make sure we live out the purpose for which He created us. Being more Christ-like than last year. (Easy words to pray and mean at the time but when He starts answering, ouch, that hurts!) Reading the Word and it falls flat. Read the same passage again in a week and I fall flat on my face!

It’s been a good thing that only God has been able to read my thoughts lately. Because He loves me no matter what. But that’s also cause to tremble. He performs His Word, and, I have asked Him to do whatever has to be done in order for me to “be” what He has created me to be; to “do” what He has created me to do; and to love Him at the maximum of my capacity. Gimme, Juanita, haven’t you figured out God answers prayers that align with His will?

Jesus says to follow Him.
Jesus says to fill up His suffering.
Jesus says to bear all things.

Jesus says that He is in me and I am in Him.  Mix away, Father, mix away!

All I have to say is:  GOLLY!

 

Busy, Hunt & Find, Why?

I dropped her and her boys off at the airport. The car was noisy. Screeching boys grabbing each other's heads. Yanking as best they could in spite of the restrictions of their seat belts. Pulling to the curb, my thoughts focus on getting luggage to the curb. Anything to push back the full blown dam of tears that want to gush. I grab each boy...youngest (inner thought--is he always looking for something to climb?), I pull him off the jersey wall and put a bear hug on him, "Grammy loves you so much."  Next, I find the oldest, (inner thought--this child is going to be taller than me in two more years and he'll soon be nine), trying not to be a mushy Grammy, "I love you so much and I'm going to miss you." And lastly, the middle boy, (inner thought, I want to savor the smell of this fresh boy hair), "I really, really love you so much, Grammy does." Then comes the hardest, hugging away my only daughter who is on the opposite coast. (Inner thoughts, we've come so far and I love this woman who shares my spiritual conversations and even truthful gripe sessions--yet we know our faith is steadfast; I miss her presence.) "I love you so much." It's enough because the dam is fragile.

I delay coming home. Manicure. Pedicure. Exchange items at store. Buy Legos at Toys R Us. (Because that's what is special about the visit with these three boys...new Lego sets to put together with Grammy.) Rationalization for buying them now: for the next time they come.

 Coming home, I go immediately into busyness. Changing sheets. Putting away the "take and migrate" items at the hands of the youngest. Then comes the hunt and find. What did they leave?

A Blanket lays on the breakfast table beside a half eaten piece of Nutella toast. The Spiderman technicolor ball of cloth is thrust to my nostrils. I suck in deep and long. Littliest boy. Not washing this for awhile. Into the hunt again. Triumph, the oldest's shirt. This will have to be mailed because it's a school shirt. I hold it up and gaze amazed. This first born of my daughter has opened up like a dry sponge plunged into water. I remember holding this boy as a few day old bundle and praying a blessing over him...this one who has left a shirt bearing a football helmet.

The day isn't over, perhaps the middle one has left something behind that will give Grammy a moment's pause at his specialness...hope is alive.






One more stop by the computer and check Flight Tracker. One more hour and they will be home. It's been almost four hours since my life started pushing back to my own normal as Juanita instead of Grammy. Quiet house. My own messes. The ticking away of time till they come again.

Glancing outside the window, I spy the red Solo cup on the dead stump by the driveway. Daughter sat it there while dodging boys & Grammy on bikes. I'll let it stay for a while...my daughter's hands were on this cup. Her fingerprints alone remain.

I have to say, it's time I let the dam break. Why? They just landed. The weather copies my mood. The thunder rolls and rain falls; I join in the pouring.

My Story

I've been reading Adele Ahberg Calhoun's book, Invitations from God. I've been reading it for about 6 months. It's one of those books that needs the time and space, savoring and pondering. It's a directional book. An informative book. A lesson book. For me, it cannot be devoured and then forgotten. It has pulled me into assessing my thoughts, my griefs, my motives, my intents, my misgivings, my history, my future, my concepts of God, my concepts of me, my future, my past, my now, my life.

I was going to ramble on and on but have decided to let a picture speak what I feel has come from Ms Calhoun's book.

There is a Robin's Snow on this morning. More than expected. Exquisitely beautiful! My story is like this Maple Tree. Probably 60 years old. Been through a lot; lot of broken branches, gnarled branches, split at the trunk, meaning that something traumatized it when it was young. And yet it has grown. And it is beautiful because of its life's weathering. This spring day, Monday of the Passion Week, it is covered in white snow. The pink buds of new life and a new season are under this coating of purity.

This is my story. Standing. Budding. Growing. Resting. Giving. Covered in God's glorious purity and righteousness...redemption.

I have to say, it's His story.

Identity

Proverbs 25:11

"Like apples of gold in settings of silver

is a word spoken in right circumstances."

I like to think of them as the Lord's Truth Fruit!

When do we learn or realize who we are? "Who are you?" Most of us answer that question by the things we do or by the different relationships we have and the roles we play in those relationships. But that's not who I am. It's taken me a while to know who I am. I am a woman who appreciates and thrives in nature. I have a keen sensing of others feelings. I like to engage strangers in a checkout line or the clerk and make it a goal of making them smile. I like to give compliments. Yet, I feel that I swing from being mentally stable to schizophrenic!!! I'm mostly positive but can swing judgmental on a bad day. I like people. Some more than others!

This past year has been a year of discovering who God says I am. I fought Him much of the time. I fought by not believing Him. I allowed my back story, which has had a huge voice all my life, define, override, and replace any truth of which He's been trying to convince me. Why do I fight against His truth? Especially truth about myself? He tells me I'm worthy and I come back quickly and say no way. I just called God a liar. He tells me that I'm forgiven and I allow my feelings to dismiss His sublime act. I make Him out as a liar. He tells me that He's always near and I frantically call out, "Where are You?" I disbelieve His nearness. What happened to my knowledge that God does not lie? Why didn't my firm belief that He cannot lie kick in?

Because...

I gave my eyes, ears, emotions over to the one who is a Liar. I am a fool to think that my daily going-ons are not fodder for satan's prime tool of making God out to be the liar. It was the first tool he used on Mother Eve. Convincing her that all God said to her, about her, for her, wasn't true. And she plucked! And I find myself at times plucking away at those forbidden fruits.

I learned this year that the best way to not default in giving The Liar my eyes, ears, emotions is to act on my belief of God's absolute loving Presence. When I first asked forgiveness in 1971 for my sin, He forgave. That instant, He supernaturally covered and filled me with Himself. How He does that, I've no clue. I knew I was different. I had an insatiable hunger to know more. I got into Bible Studies that were amazing. I learned and gobbled up truth. Yet, the day to day of life always tests truth.

Life tests our identity. Our identity is in God's truth.

My identity is in Him. For 42 years now, it has been a daily work in whether I will pluck the "apple of deceit" or Truth's Apples of Gold.

I have to say, I'm going to be extremely picky over what I'm plucking from now on. Whatever I choose to pick says a lot about who I am and whom I'm going to believe...the liar or The Truth.

One Year, Twelve Months, Fifty-two Weeks, Five Hundred Sixty-five Days

The Lord has done great things--and always will.

And we start all over again. 2012 fades into history and 2013 begins to follow. Where have all the hours gone? Certain days stand out. But most days are glued together with similarity. The functioning of life revolves around the mundane, taken for granted, and boring. I love those days. My mantra for several years is that I love boring. After years of physical exhaustion of babies and youngsters, more years than I wanted of mental exhaustion with middle and high schoolers, then wrapping up with the emotional exhausting years of letting go through college and marriage, life with days of boredom is a gift. But either I've been tricked or I believed a lie that was spread by someone, somewhere; because life isn't simpler or easier being in an empty nest.

I am only speaking from a wife/woman perspective; I can speculate, know a tidbit, and assume some aspects of hubby's mind, yet I will not speak for him...I only know me...or think I do! This time of life in a marriage is an "adventure"! (How do you convey a sarcastic sentence?) When you've reached almost 43 years of marriage, you've either compromised a lot, ignored a lot, forgiven a lot, laughed a lot, suppressed a lot, learned a lot, cried a lot, prayed a lot, had thoughts of murder, but mostly kissed and made up. This was done if you meant your covenant vows before God and there have been no horrendous incidents to warrant the breaking of those vows...and there are valid ones. I am profoundly thankful that I have not had any of the latter; but I've learned to never say never. Be watchful, guard, and protect is the vanguard at this point.

It's been hectic lately. It's been a year of realizing and feeling the process of getting older. Truly, where have all the hours of 62 years gone!? I look at my hubby who I have been with since he was 18 years old and I was 15 years old. Isn't there a law somewhere...! He is the only man I've ever dated, kissed, and other such "only's"! About 15 years into the marriage I thought I had missed out by not dating more. Now, at 42 years of marriage, I don't think I missed much! I'm actually glad I have nothing to compare! My husband cannot say the same. So I do remind him now and then as to how special he has been to have a "no one else" wife...I do not let him forget how rare that is. I'm not ashamed to use that card to my advantage!

It's been quite a year. The best year of my spiritual journey. A better year than the year before in my marriage journey. A transitioning year as a Grammy as the youngest grandchild is now 4 and the oldest is 13. Holy Moly!!!  A melancholy year as my parents are in their final years. A wondrous year with girlfriends. A contended year with the animals and carpenter projects. A year of writing 1000 Gifts (http://www.aholyexperience.com Ann Voskamp). I have been thankful. I am thankful. I intend to stay thankful.

The best lesson I learned this year, these last 12 months, during 52 weeks, through 365 days is that I only have today. More exactly, the now-moment of this day. So for this moment, I am grateful. Humbly, heart-full, grateful. I have to say it doesn't get any better than feeling the gratefulness.  Thank You Jesus.