Lessons in Togetherness

 

It has been almost 2 years since my last post.

2.years.

The result of a season of processing and change. Trying to determine what was next.

I spent the time reading much, doing the usual homemaking day-to-days, traveling and simply investing in family - together.

I have always felt isolated in life - different - whether by faith or interests or sheer independence. But the past 2 years have bread a togetherness in our family and a peace in our souls I just can't put into words.

It has been beautiful.

It has been timely.

It hasn't been without bumps and bruises... but the rough patches have served to make us stronger and dig deeper together.

Now, 2022 has been the capstone in this process, bringing equal measures of challenge and celebration. The excitement of traveling together to old and new places has been intermingled with health diagnosis after health diagnosis, some confirming years of struggle.... others completely unexpected and nearly devastating. I have had to learn a new way of life. In the midst of all the cans-can'ts-shoulds, I need to eat different, go through regular P.T. and reconsider the structure of each day in the midst of this housewife life which, traditionally, has made greater demands than I am currently capable of.

But I am not alone. 

God is my everlasting strength and over the past 2 years, He has reminded me of the power of togetherness in family.... of the support and encouragement they are... "alone" is truly a choice and He was calling me to walk into the embrace of together. I am so blessed for that simple fact. It is work - but it is a good work - growing and molding not just our family as a whole, but me personally as well - making me more pliable to shake off loneliness and embrace togetherness more wholeheartedly.

As I maneuver the newness of this stage of life, doors open for opportunity, hubby and I as a team, pushing ahead in a venture which has been a lifetime dream of mine and I am blessed all the more. (more to come on this)

God has not put us in a place of utter loss, rather, he has moved us to a place of new opportunity - together.

*****

This has been a 5-minute Friday installment. I have missed this community so much! I'm excited to be writing for the great WWW again (naturally, I never stopped pouring out my heart in written words, even if no one else saw it!). Please pop over and say HI to the other great writers there!

Also, big announcements coming on the Blog and social media. This past year I lost my Faith and Home domain but we are working on an alternative as we also prepare for a HUGE endevour - stay tuned!

To keep up on the in-between, visit my Instagram account... I will see you here soon!

Comment below with lessons you have learned in togetherness!

Blessings,

Memories and Moments

Tonight I decided to comb through old posts which had been started but not finished. Of all nights, and as I push back into a regular blogging cycle, it is interesting that this post on this night is what would stand out.

 

Written one year ago to-the-day, I was still working through some deep emotions which seemed to just flow through my fingertips as the keyboard called. A tribute which I feel must still be published. Perhaps it was too hard in the midst of the many trials and much hurt of autumn 2019. A year later, however, it is a beautiful story which, I believe, is also a testimony the world must hear.....

 

Evening, October 23, 2019
Memories.  They make us who we are.  Both good and bad and all the in-between.  They filter through a sepia past into a vibrant present.  They even build hope for the shrouded future.

My earliest memories are rooted in a modest split entry single family home nestled in a cozy suburb about 45 minutes west of Chicago.  Short black curly hair and firm patience guide me through the learning tasks all toddlers itch to model: a tiny broom, folding hand towels and standing on step-stools to help stir macaroni.  Soft warm hugs cuddled me close while cartoons played across the counsel and the silly antics which might exhaust a young mother only fed her hearty laughs and gentle rebukes if silly got out of hand. 

She was my grandmother.

I still remember attempting to form the word "g-r-a-n-d-m-a".  It was a word which confused me because, to my young intellect, she was 'ma'.  I still remember my young rational in claiming she was ME-ma, my ma... a mom, though grand she was, she became Mema.

My mother loved me, oh-so-much.  But a turbulent childhood and troubled broken marriage at the young age of 19 left her scrambling to pull herself together.  Mema stepped in and took the reins while my parents, separately, worked to figure it all out.

Mema was tough.  Her medium height and broad shoulders coupled with her no-nonsense attitude made her an invaluable hard worker in the factory industry and a force to be reckoned with in any setting.  Having survived a marriage to an abusive alcoholic who ultimately left for the west, she never lost her faith and commitment to Biblical womanhood.  Six rambunctious kids only added to her zeal.  If she could rustle all those bodies (including a set of twins) and juggle the life she found herself living, well, nothing was going to make her back down!

One thing about Mema which out-shined all task and antic was her faith.  Saved in a south-central Tennessee church at a young age and baptized in the adjoining creek at 16, I can hardly remember a day where she didn't share Jesus with someone.  Vivid memories of tiny me being taught to clasp my hands just so and say the sweet youthful prayers to Jesus were the same memories which kept me from wandering too far when time and disillusionment threatened to snatch me from His hand.

As time passed and my parents regained control of my rearing, grandma became a more occasional fixture.  She was always ready to whisk me a way for a week in the summer or on spring break where we would spend hours learning new crafts, how to cut paper dolls out of catalog models, eating KFC by the rolling Fox River and traveling to Tennessee to visit her childhood home and my great-granny.  VBS, Summer Bible Camps, and adventures of so many shapes and sizes.  I was "co-pilot" on expeditions and learned to love gospel music and big band music in turn.

As teen years hit, Mema was the only one who could tame the beast.  I wandered and doubted but she pushed and persisted.  She attended every play, encouraged all the good endeavors and was quick to recite the folly in the bad.  She celebrated with me when I accepted Christ at 16 and, no doubt, she cried when she learned I ran from the same faith at 19.  Most of all, she prayed without ceasing.

When 20s dawned and my marriage vows broke and her heart likely broke as more folly littered my path, she never gave up.  She never stopped praying.  She never stopped calling.  She never stopped persisting, "Jesus is the only way".  I suppose it was no surprise, then, when 26 year old me, remarried, re-settled and toting baby #3 on my hip, had wandered into a small town church, repeatedly, and all of a sudden was struck by God's mighty grace.  Like a lighting bolt straight to my heart, I surrendered all.  

 
Her prayers, her persistence, her calls... it all paid off.  And, like childhood all over again, Me-ma and I began to traipse through life together.  We hugged tight when my mother passed away unexpectedly at 48.  Living miles apart, we telephoned often to encourage and strive through the hard times.  We laughed and talked to celebrate the good.  Me in the far northwest corner of Montana, her, now retired, settled back in her hometown in south-central Tennessee.

Our relationship wasn't perfect... whose is.  But it was ours and one thing I always knew: she was there.  NOTHING I could do would change that.  We prayed together and dreamed together and she delighted as our little family grew.  She shared news of cousins and celebrated them in wonderful ways I don't think they ever knew.

But time and memories have a funny way of running out.  I started to notice the skipped record.  The repeat questions.  The confusion at certain statements.  Being in her 80s, it was natural to write it off as 'old age'.  But it wasn't old age.  Dementia had set in and, as she began to outlive her own children, the progression of loosing each of her 3 oldest before all but one had turned 50, seemed to drive her deeper.  Before we knew and understood the full effects of the disease, misunderstandings mounted and her irritability over these dark gaps drove us apart for a short season. The worst part, even though our divide lasted only a few months, by the time our relationship worked back around.... Mema was simply gone.  Her body remained but the laughter and tears and long afternoon talks... those were no more.  The record was broken, "How's the weather up there, how are the kids, how is your step-dad..... How's the weather up there, how'....."  I knew, in my heart, that nothing would ever be the same. 

There were rare glimpses, moments of recognition to current events.  But mostly she knew I was 'Mandy' and the recognition ended there. On occasion she cried from her heart when she heard my "hello" on the other end, a mixture of joy and longing sadness, forgetting our most resent conversations, her drifting mind felt it had been forever.  I tried to call monthly, but it grew harder and harder.  Family pressure of all I could and couldn't say, lectures and my (unfortunately) timid digression.  But I still called, as often as I could, even though I knew each conversation would be the same.

Then last week.

As I heard tired excitement in her voice upon my name through the receiver, I lamented in my heart how I miss our deep conversations, I miss her comfort and encouragement, and just now I needed it so much. I braced for our usual broken-record-repeat. Nothing deep, just basic... weather, kids, yes we all still love Jesus. Weather, kids, yes.... But I so desperately wanted more. I wanted to rewind the clock to those days of deep conversation and sage advice which dementia had already stolen years before. Right now, life had taken an unexpected turn and I just did not know what to do.  Big decisions, big changes and big heartbreak were all colliding.  

 

But I kept it to myself and, with an inward sigh, I listened as the record skipped and skipped and then, in one moment of sheer clarity, the record spun into a new tune. The very tone of her voice seemed to change as she broke the rote and began, as if knowing all the pains in my heart though I had not spoken of any of them... "I know you have decisions to make and I know you will keep your eyes on God," she paused and seemed to muster, "I know you will make the right decisions. I know you will do what is right.  Let's pray."  We use to always pray together, especially in hard times, I didn't realize how much I would miss it until dementia took it away from us.  Just above a whisper I eagerly agreed, "That would be nice" as a lump caught in my throat.  She pressed in.

"... God, guide Mandy and help her in the decision she needs to make, help all of them with the decisions they need to make and the things they need to do.  Help everyone with their jobs.  I know how much Mandy wants to do what's right, guide her and help her to do it."

Suspended in amazement, I was speechless.  I whispered again, "Thank you" and, just as quickly as the record stopped skipping, it started again... repeat.  I hadn't mentioned anything about jobs, but she knew. I hadn't even hinted and tough decisions pressing in, but she understood. Her words did not provide the needed answers to the problems at hand but that single moment of clarity after years of fog was like a message from God that HE saw me, He heard the desperate need in my heart and, for one beautiful moment on a cool autumn day, He answered my cry. Our final goodbyes were filled with the usual "I love you"s and her heart-felt, "I am so proud of you."  It is a wonderful thing when someone you love and admire issues those words.

As the call ended I made a mental note to not wait so long for our next check-in while also pondering the gravity of her moment of clarity and if this may have been our last call... the last time I hear her sage voice.

It was.

She was 89.  Almost 3 months from 90. 

Me-Ma is gone.

It is hard and it hurts, especially in a climate where family in the region is no longer close.  Truthfully, though, Dementia took her almost 7 years ago but God gave me that one, brief, wonderful moment two Wednesdays ago and I am so grateful He did.

Every conversation's repeat included the emphatic statement, "I'm ready to go Home.  I've lived a long life.  Mother was 96 when she died.  If God takes me home, that is OK." She lived completely but with one foot always ready to step into Heaven.

No more produce isle Witnessing.
No more good-bye prayers.
No more hearty chuckles at childhood antics.

But.  She is worshiping at the feet of Jesus with a whole host of angels, I'll see her again and then we can pray and worship together in fields of Grace ❤️

Treasure those God gives you.  Make memories while you can.  Speak Jesus.  Love deeply.  It will sustain you when "good-byes" end all "hellos".

***

 

 Blessings,

 

In Loving Memory of Mema, 

Dorothy Robertson

January 1, 1930 - October 20, 2019

Not-so 5-Minute Friday: Hold

 It has been 7 months since life entered a sort-of holding pattern.  Things have fallen apart... and come back together... for many of us. The challenges this year have felt like an old, warn hat after 2019 and the constant problems our family faced then. Last year, from beginning to end, there was one disaster after another around our home, interpersonal challenges and even marriage problems. As we prayed to welcome in 2020 at the stroke of midnight, December slipping into January and a whole new year, I broke into tears. I was overwhelmed with emotion but excited to behold new hope, new possibility... and to say good-bye to the hard challenges we had endured through the 12 months prior.

2020 looked bright. Brenden was to become engaged to a wonderful girl, my youngest was graduating high school and her and I were looking forward to a maiden voyage to Florida. Best of all, hubby was starting a new and lucrative position at work. For the first time in our lives we were going to have the relief of not living paycheck-to-paycheck and finally having the financial freedom to go places and do things normally off-limits in our tight financial sphere. Add to this, while I was really going to miss homeschooling, I was looking forward to new opportunities for my time opening up.

By February, though, whispers suggested we were in for another rough haul. Come spring, the stress and strain broke Brenden's engagement as lock-downs began to roll across the country and panic gripped his sweet young girl's mind, making her unable to cope or hear reason. Brooke experienced stress and anxiety as every.single.one of her milestone senior year moments were canceled: prom, church lock-ins and retreats, final youth group activities and so on. I spent countless days and nights seeking to comfort her broken spirit. She felt hopeless as her present, and possibilities for the future, were stripped away. 

Just when we thought we had take the brunt of the strain, hubby's new position was tossed into the can as the company cut ALL possible employees. That brief glimmer of finally finding financial security was snuffed out. My own stress and anxiety mounted amidst protestors calling our kind "privileged" and insinuating how "easy" we had it. I've never been privileged, I grew up poorer, with less opportunity and continued challenges, than many who were shouting. I've always had an uphill battle, life has been anything but easy, and the one time we finally felt like we were on level ground... it was ripped away, leaving us to grapple with the fact that hubby is only 15 years from retirement and his position was providing security for our fast-approaching "golden years".

 It took time to process.  Time to really make amends with all the hurt and frustration and not be angry with the chaos of society around us and the leaders whose decisions were (and still are) progressively destroying lives. Yet, in the midst of the din, there was always that One Voice, pulling me back to reason and hope. 

I can't imagine this journey without Christ's arms firmly around me, God reminding me how he has always and would always hold my life and our future in the palm of His mighty hands. Jobs are nice for security, but the greatest security we can know is that He has nothing but good plans for those who believe and trust in Him. 

He showed me peace in how, even if the young girl Brenden found seemed perfect for Him, God vetted her according to His plans. My son will heal, is healing, wiser and stronger in his faith than ever. And Brooke? She has endured the hard lessons of learning how to lean not on her own understanding and relationships with others and instead lean solidly on God's and her relationship with Him. She found she was stronger than she thought she was and I watched as she discovered how to listen more closely to His perfect Voice.

Unemployment comp has helped.  Stimulus has provided adventure and opportunity. After my daughter's graduation party it was firmly decided that my mother-in-law was long overdue to sell her home and move in with us. Living in Northwestern Montana where we had drawn her in 21 years ago, her health has been declining and it was no longer wise for her to continue on alone. My brother-in-law moved away a few years ago and we have been in South-central for 7 years... this too God had worked out.

Our home was purchased with someday having her here in mind. The upside of all this year's chaos was a super quick sell of MIL's mobile home for 2x its value and a substantial investment in squaring away her living quarters here.... my art studio converted to a studio apartment! Hubby's time off allowed him to do much of the work and take multiple trips with me across state to pack and move... something which wouldn't have been possible had he been working.

It was a crazy summer with the construction work, big move, and settling in... but it was a good crazy. God used it to help me transition from feeling under a cloud of ongoing oppression to possibility and a new season of life welcoming this opportunity to care for someone we love as she struggles in aging.

I've wrestled with schedules, tried to figure out writing, attempted to understand what all is expected of me right now in life, in home and in family. Yet, somehow, it is no longer dark or daunting. I'm no longer upset or hurt. I still don't have all the answers... we still are working out the kinks in job and marriage and a "new" family member in our household.... but I feel like we are right where we should be.

I've been trying to see and shimmy time into place to begin regular blogging again. Like swimming, the hardest part is getting in... sometimes you just have to JUMP. No rhyme or reason or process... just get wet, head-to-toe and once you float back up to the top, you begin to stroke along! HOLD and Five-Minute-Friday seemed the big jump time!

Not for a minute, have I thought it was time to quit writing. I imagine I am a bit rusty and my words here don't flow quite how I might like (and I know for certain I am way over the 5 minutes!!). Yet, as much as I hate the latest saying, it is so true: we are all in this together. My 2019 is everyone's 2020 and, while I don't wish this on anyone, I do believe we can more candidly and wholeheartedly be there for each other. Trudging through this messy thing called "life" and reminding each other: we are Held by the steadiest most secure hands in the universe, His plans will prevail. 

So, as I still try to shimmy new-season-new-life schedules into place and juggling the complexities of changing relationships, I do hope to start kicking regular content back up. Thanks for reading to the end. Drop a note below if you find you have been struggling almost to capacity this year and share if you have witnessed God's mighty arms holding you close through it all!

Love and blessings,

 

 

 

*Posting today with the Five Minute Friday crew, go check out other great posts (likely shorter and written within the time allotted!!!) Also, check out my "Link-ups" tab for other great sharing parties!

Marvelous Moments since I've been away:

The youngest 3 finally got their licenses! Well, "finally" for Ashley who is now 22 and Brenden who turned 20... but Brooke is spot-on at 17.... long story as to why all at once and why it took so long!

Brooke and Brenden quickly found their first cars.... thank you Lord for stimulus + "essential worker" job savings.

***

Stimulus and mad-rushes on grocery supplies turned this "accidental" gardener into a full-on backyard farmer!

 

***

What's a girl to do when Senior year ends up in quarantine?

One blessing... people began to come out of the woodwork by May to try and give the seniors something more memorable than toilet paper shortages and mask mandates! 

Krispy Kreme did a FREE dozen donuts if you came in wearing grad gear (she opted for her grad mouse ears from our Disney trip in February)... 

...her youth group leaders made house-calls on graduation weekend with balloons and gourmet cookies...

...the church offered a professional photographer who donated her time and free digital photos of the grads, their families and their senior youth group friends the same Sunday they opened the stage for grads to "walk" and receive a special gift from their youth pastor. It wasn't prom or lock-ins or retreats or hang-outs... but it was special and memorable. 

 

Grad party was postponed a month due to lock-downs and even then, only a few showed up but we still made the best of it, especially since my oldest got the time off and made the treck from Arizona.

Shenanegans insued!!

 

***

The studio transformation....

...before her furnature was moved in. Complete with cat walks for her FIVE cats!! 

 

We traveled back-and-forth across Montana multiple times this summer managing MIL's big move. Above we got in on selfie mode at Flathead Lake which he hadn't seen since we left 7 years ago (yes, I'm taller than my husband!!) and on one of our return trips we had our first ever night away with NO kids in well over 20 years when we stayed in Dillon, MT and visited and old ghost town in Bannack - Montana's first state capital!

***

Hubby turned the big 5-0 in September so we packed my visiting nephew, mother-in-law and the youngest two "kids" in the car and celebrated at Mount Rushmore...

...a total bucket-list moment for my husband (my 3rd visit)

Brooke took a second job as a Teacher's Assistant at a Christian preschool in order to determine if this may become a degree pursuit for her next fall. She also took up bigger and more detailed projects in painting.

I guess you could say, the "sky" is the limit!!

*Are you subscribed to my newsletter?  You might want to be.  Why?  Well, the newsletter contains bonus material you won't find on the website... not to mention, in those busy months when I can't get regular blog articles up, you can count on this periodical popping up in your email in-box each month with all new content!  What exactly does the newsletter contain?

• Encouraging articles
• Free printables under different themes each month
• Insider info on the latest goings-ons with all things on my blog and writing related

You won't find all this great bonus material on the blog so be sure to sign up so you don't miss out!  It's Ok, hop over real quick, right there to your right, see it on my sidebar where it says, "Subscribe to my Newsletter" with a  picture of the "Faith and Home Times" logo above it?  Ok, now enter your email in the box labeled "email address" then click "Subscribe"....(don't worry, it doesn't hurt and I promise not to spam you!). You should receive a confirmation email from me. 

FMF: Less... and more

 

My hiatus is slowly coming to a close, I am working my way back to a regular blogging schedule while life remains busy with the plans of graduation + moving my mother-in-law into our spare 'cottage' + moving adult kids on their own. For all intents and purposes, though, I am working my way back here because, at the end of the day, writing is my quiet place... it is my 'idea board'... it is my Call and all that has kept me away for the past few months will undoubtedly make its way into articles I share as I move forward.  For now, what better way to kick back off than with a Five Minute Friday drill? So here goes........

*******************

Less.

Just now this word rings in my heart.  At a time when everyone is grabbing for more.... more toilet paper, more cleaner, more of any and every little thing deemed "necessary" to "survive".  A looming apocalypse in the minds of many when, compared with historic data, it all honestly feels more and more like a bloated crises over an understandable health concern.  Only time will tell.

I don't normally like to get 'political' on here because politics are so polarizing, therefore, I will NOT dive into that side of it.  But what I WILL do is stay on the heart of what this blog is all about..... FAITH.

Over the years, our family has endured both feast and famine.  I truly love the full passage in Philippians 4 when Paul expresses:

Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned 

in whatever situation I am to be content.  

I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. 

In any and every circumstance, I have learned 

the secret of facing plenty and hunger, 

abundance and need. 

I can do all things through him who strengthens me.

Philippians 4:11-13

ALL things through [Christ] who strengthens him... from having LESS to having more.  From illness to wellness.  From harsh government policy to freedoms to live autonomously.

The more I reflect on the current climate the more I want to panic over how things are handled... then I see the word of God and, instead of panic, the more I hear that gentle "shhhhhhh".

I may not be able to stock up or control how policy is handled... my worry may not be illness but rather dabbles in freedom and ability... ability to travel, to walk into my store and purchase what we need whenever we need it, to see my kids find good careers instead of  "closed" signs, to turn on the computer and t.v. and NOT be bombarded with "doomsday".... and then I am reminded: less.

Less in my cupboards is opportunity for culinary creativity.

Less concern over economy since our grandparents and great-grands survived the Great Depression and IF we find ourselves on that path again, we will too.


Less worry because God truly does have this, He is still on His thrown.  And whether this whole thing truly is bad... or whether it passes like last year's influenza when the weather warms... none of it truly matters because God IS at work.

*******************

My apologies if this offends anyone.  I do NOT want to cause controversy nor do I want to debate.  I am merely observing and sharing what I see... like so many others. This will be the ONLY post anywhere on any of my platforms where I will address the issue because, honestly, I want to focus on living and less on a ton of 'what-ifs'.  I want to be that quiet peace in the storm of information and hysterical overload because I am finding God at my own center and author of my own peace.

I respect that some do feel passionately about caution and preparedness.  I AM staying informed and doing my own research for personal understanding... I think it is just as detrimental if we stick our head in the sand when major issues play in our country... however, what I do not want to do is add to hype or craze or validate all the "more" milling around.  I will cling to less.

Less hype, less panic, less politicizing.  I will reach for more hope and more optimism while grounded in reality. It is what I know I am called to do as darkness and debate swarm social media and the news and any pop-up in my browser. In the midst of the chaos I stake my flag on PEACE, the only lasting peace: that which is found in the Word and presence of God who says, whether less or more, He is in the midst and He has got this.

Less of me and all those burdens.... more of Him♥️

Blessings,

You can click here to see some of the great blogs I am linking up today ...

*Are you subscribed to my newsletter?  You might want to be.  Why?  Well, the newsletter contains bonus material you won't find on the website... not to mention, in those busy months when I can't get regular blog articles up, you can count on this periodical popping up in your email in-box each month with all new content!  What exactly does the newsletter contain?

• Encouraging articles
• Free printables under different themes each month
• Insider info on the latest goings-ons with all things on my blog and writing related

You won't find all this great bonus material on the blog so be sure to sign up so you don't miss out!  It's Ok, hop over real quick, right there to your right, see it on my sidebar where it says, "Subscribe to my Newsletter" with a  picture of the "Faith and Home Times" logo above it?  Ok, now enter your email in the box labeled "email address" then click "Subscribe"....(don't worry, it doesn't hurt and I promise not to spam you!). You should receive a confirmation email from me. 

Dust in the Hands of a Mighty God

I'm at a cross-roads.

We all are sometimes, aren't we?  The path bends and winds... it rises and falls... sometimes there are steep climbs and others are easy strolls.  Always, eventually, we come upon a crossroads in the path.

One thing about crossroads: there rarely seem to be signs.

Wouldn't signs me handy?  Like, "Go this way for certain success" or "This way is going to be long and difficult".  Oh, occasionally there may be hints, suggestions as to what we might find.  Sometimes what we think will be there, in fact, is not.  But the hardest crossroads are the ones where the choice you make is so monumental, it takes you in a direction you may not be able to return from.

That is my crossroad.

Writing is a daily battle for me.  I have noticed that many good authors I read have the exact same struggle.  When God gives us words and a Call to share them, well, the enemy does all he can to discourage us and send us off-track.

However, recently, the attacks hit way to close to home.  Encouragement I had become assured of from sources I had always relied on and trusted, suddenly disintegrated to dust.  Plans which had been in the works for nearly a decade and actions progressing toward their end... dashed.  HUGE things I had thought and come to rely on for over 20 years have suddenly been yanked away from me and thrown into the flaming pile of unbelief and confusion.  I'm not even sure what I am looking at right now.

I promised raw truths on the blog in my most recent newsletter!  Bet you didn't expect that.

I don't know what to do with the dust.  Hence my crossroads.  I picked up all the charcoaled cinders, crammed them into a bag and here I stand, holding my heavy load.  Questioning.  Wondering.  What do you want me to do Lord?  Not my will, but His alone.

In the midst of my contemplations God is sending little messages... which are often followed by another attack from the enemy.  It is a cycle... at times it is crippling.  One message, though, he sent as I have been reading "It's Not Suppose to Be This Way" by Lysa Terkeurst.  I'm only on chapter 3 but so far she is striking every chord needed to hit just the right melody.  I guess you could say, it is traveling music!  My favorite part so far?

Dust.

Dust doesn't have to signify the end.  

Dust is often what must be present for the new to begin.

She goes on to share how, Biblically, God does amazing things with dust.  To begin with... he made man.  In Isaiah and Jeremiah He speaks of us in terms of clay in the potter's hands... clay = dust + water.  And Jesus used dust with a bit of spit to heal a man who was blind.  Dust isn't merely a remnant of what was, rather, it is the base of what is to come.

I began to see how, standing at these crossroads holding a sack full of dust is actually a good thing.  Suddenly I'm not mourning what I've been loosing, but rather, I'm beginning to anticipate, with deep curiosity, what God is planning if He has allowed hopes and dreams and plans to be scorched to dust like this.

My idea of what is good is nothing compared to His idea of what is better.

In the mean time, I'm meandering about the intersection, doing each next thing until I am certain which turn to take.  At times I pause and contemplate some more.  I believe, though, now that I am beginning to understand the purpose of my load of dust, it may be time to set it down... it isn't my load to carry, rather, it is the Lord's to take up and begin working with.  I think I will put a tall pitcher of water there on the ground beside my sack as well, I have a feeling the potter's hands are preparing to work.  I can't wait to see what He forms!

Do you have a sack of dust you are carrying today?  I pray you can find a place to lay it down, with a pitcher of water, and step back to see what the Lord is planning to form.

Blessings,

*Are you subscribed to my newsletter?  You might want to be.  Why?  Well, the newsletter contains bonus material you won't find on the website... not to mention, in those busy months when I can't get regular blog articles up, you can count on this periodical popping up in your email in-box each month with all new content!  What exactly does the newsletter contain?

• Encouraging articles
• Free printables under different themes each month
• Insider info on the latest goings-ons with all things on my blog and writing related

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