The Confession of the Pork Sausage

August 1, 2013August 1, 2013 / amylynw / 1 Comment

This past weekend we went camping with our Gateway church family. We were wholly unprepared, grabbing this and that as we walked out the door. Our van has been unusable for the past almost two weeks because of cooling problems, so we were up in the air about camping, until a car became available to us. Long story short, we spent most of our time mooching off of other people’s fires, hot water, & utensils. I did bring my crock-pot, however. I also managed to drive half an hour away to fetch ingredients for a soup, only to forget half of them in a bag left at the store. I didn’t realize this until I arrived back at the camp. So I had a little cry, then drove all the way back to the store to get the items left behind. When I arrived, the lady told me they had just taken my things back to the refrigerated section. This put me back into a foul mood. In fact, I was so annoyed at the whole situation that I grabbed one extra pack of sausages just to see if they would notice. Turns out I could have grabbed ten and she wouldn’t have cared. Nevertheless, I felt pretty guilty about it once I stopped thinking about myself so much. James 5:16 says to confess your sins to each other. Have I hit the backspace button numerous times hoping I could erase the fact that I am guilty of stealing? Why, yes. And yes, I am a sinner saved by grace and sometimes I still act like a little kid who will do whatever it takes to get what seems fair. I slept pretty horribly that night too. Good thing one of the things we grabbed as we walked out the door was an extra piece of foam, or we would have been sleeping on rocks. But, if we’re talking about getting what’s fair… I should have just rolled right over and slept on the rocks IN the rain as punishment for my awful behavior.

Thankfully, that’s not how God works. He disciplines us like a good parent, but He doesn’t hold our sins over our head to see how much guilt we can bear. I was reminded of God’s grace Saturday afternoon as a group of us filed into the woods towards a small stream bed. Our friend wanted to show his faith in Jesus Christ by being baptized publicly. It was a beautiful sight. Baptism will never get you into Heaven. It outwardly symbolizes what’s been done on the inside. Believing in Christ’s death for the forgiveness of our sins. Believing His resurrection from the dead means we will never die but always belong to God’s family.

Somehow having an organic gathering of God’s kids out in the woods felt perfect. Church isn’t just something that happens in a building. It’s not about blue chairs, wooden pews, the color of the carpet or how many guitars, pianos, or drums are playing. It has nothing to do with our hymnbook, songbook, chorus book, or prayer-book. Church isn’t even a building. It’s not about an hour each week to feel good about ourselves and check it off our list or make brownie points with God. Church is His body on earth, doing what His hands did, and what He died in order for us to do. Live. Love. Forgive. Church is a group of living and breathing folks who are following Christ’s example of humility and love. At least that is what it’s supposed to be.

I get very deeply upset when we start making the church more important than Jesus. When we put more effort into what’s inside four walls than what’s outside of them. When we act one way Sunday and a completely different way the other six. When we nitpick about the minors while the majors get shelved out of fear or embarrassment. When we get more concerned about saving someone’s soul than we do about loving them right where they are. I am guilty of this and so much more. My soul is restless to be all that Jesus has been to me.

Scrambled Tea

June 18, 2013June 18, 2013 / amylynw / Leave a comment

My scrambled eggs fell into my tea today. Mushrooms and all. I sighed, fished them out with a fork and drank it anyway. Life is spattered with little crazy moments. Like last night around 11PM, when I overheard some men talking outside about a black rabbit. I went out to ask them about it, and sure enough, Toby had escaped again. The next fifteen minutes were spent prancing up and down the street with Matthew, in our bare feet, trying to catch him. Then a friend drove by just in time to see our barefoot-dancing in the street.

I love punctuated moments, like a flourish of red paint on a white wall.

As much as I love the splash of red to dispel the boring, our Father is the expert of dulling put big moments judiciously. He lets our hearts and minds rest from one peak to another, as we hang out in the valleys of life, or hike gently uphill.

He knows we couldn’t handle the mountain peaks forever. Not in our current state of humanness. We would either die by so much amazement, or we would cease to appreciate the amazing.

I was reminded today that our life isn’t always about the big things. Jesus did many big things, but they were mere exclamation points in a steady life of normal. He walked, He talked, He cooked, He ate, He slept, He prayed. He didn’t heal every person who lived while He lived. He didn’t raise every dead person to life. He lived life and then He gave His all away.

He tempers the crazy moments so we can bear up under them. He graces us with reprieve. Like childbirth, hard times don’t go on forever, and they are never without reward.

This morning I read this quote by Oswald Chambers. The greatest hindrance in our spiritual life is that we will only look for big things to do. Yet, “Jesus… Took a towel and… Began to wash the disciples’ feet.” (John 13:3-5)

Sometimes we feel like we deserve to have life handed to us on a beautiful platter. No more pain. No more sickness. No more debt. No more messes. No problems, please and thank you. Yet Jesus didn’t come to make dust magically disappear from off of the disciples tired feet. That would have been pretty grand, but Jesus was about humility. He was not above washing those tired, nasty, smelly, feet, when He too was probably exhausted after a long day’s walk.

As I wash little hands, scrub grimy tubs, wipe table tops and sweep filthy floors, that verse has been pinging back in my head. Jesus took a towel…

In this scrambled life, full of mountaintops and valleys, I can also take a towel and become less.

Hope Postponed

June 18, 2013June 18, 2013 / amylynw / 1 Comment

When I was younger than my oldest daughter, I met two very special girls who walked alongside of me through life. They walked the same African dirt roads with me. They knew all of my awkward crushes and we all guessed at who we’d marry one day. We fought, we made up, and we eventually grew up. Our places on the map are scattered, and our visits are rare. So, when the opportunity came to possibly see one another last weekend, my heart “soared on the wings of anticipation” (my favorite quote from Anne of Green Gables). I prayed day in and day out that a way would be made possible to get my longing heart to Oregon. I was reminded over and over of this verse: Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life.– Proverbs 13:12

I had many gut-wrenching moments over the past weeks, but was determined to trust the Lord with whatever answer He gave me. He gently told me, Not this time, Amy. It wasn’t easy to accept that answer, but I know His ways are best, and experienced His grace to comfort my aching heart. I love the promise in that verse: after experiencing the waiting, there is a light at the end of the tunnel, and the fulfillment is greater than the original longing.

It’s kind of like gardening in the dead of winter. We planted many seeds, and looked for weeks and weeks at barren ground. I hoped and prayed for beauty to rise from the ugly dirt. It would have been great to experience instant beauty. But God doesn’t do the next-day-garden. He teaches us how to be patient, and sometimes we even feel a little sick when we wait. Then, life starts to emerge from what seemed impossible. Those first blooms are the fulfillment of all those longings. We forget the emptiness when we are so full. Yet we appreciate it so much more because of the hunger.

Hope postponed grieves the heart;
but when a dream comes true, life is full and sweet.

Sometimes it helps me to write out a verse in my own words. This comforted me: When a desire which you expect to be fulfilled, is delayed until the right time, your heart feels sick. But when a strong desire for something that is unattainable becomes a reality, it is like eating from the tree which gives life.

Maybe you’re waiting for something which seems unattainable. His answer might be yes, it might be no, or it might be it a little longer. When it’s perfect, He will make it a reality. Don’t spurn or wish away the aches that come along with the waiting, though.

For me, it wasn’t the right time, and it may never be this side of Heaven. But I know for sure that one day we will experience an unbelievable reunion. We won’t need plane tickets, and we won’t ever need to say goodbye.

In My Head

June 14, 2013June 14, 2013 / amylynw / Leave a comment

Yesterday, Elsie came down to the kitchen with a coonskin hat on her head, and a silky pink polka-dot cape around her neck. In a very serious voice she asked me what I too have been wondering lately: Mom, is it going to rain every day? We’ve been caught in so many deluges the past two weeks! I’ve hung up clothes, only for them to be washed a dozen times in the rain before finally bringing them inside to the spin cycle and clothes dryer, because I really needed that shirt. I’ve gotten showered while running to move the car. Finally, today I was able to bond with the dirt once again and discovered my first daisy! Zucchini growing, flowers planted from seed, now blooming. It does my soul good.

On Wednesday we made out with a huge bin of K’nex for $5 from a used sale. Elijah has been skipping breakfast for the past two days in order to build this amazing contraption.

He often leaves me notes on my phone, can fix bikes, and loves anything electronic.

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He also loves apricot jelly. When he was making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for himself he saw me about to say something and interjected: I know, I know. No more jelly. That’s what you always say when there’s an inch of jelly on my bread.

I have a knack at going grocery shopping either dangerously close to lunch time, or at midnight. This particular time it was right around noon. Everyone was hungry. As Elsie remarked, her tummy felt backwards. To make up for it, I let the kids pick out a few special items to eat, and we had a spontaneous picnic at the splash park. As we sat on the grass, eating, Elijah looked at me with his orange fingers and said, The one thing that makes me think I’m dreaming is that you would never say yes to Doritos. He grinned and licked his fingers.

Matthew’s youngest brother just graduated from highschool. I’ve known him since he was three years old, which makes me feel very old. What a wonderful young man Jacob has become.

The other day Elsie asked me: Does God hear you when you talk in your head? It’s a wonderful thing that He does, because most of my talking to Him is done that way! While wrestling wet babies out of the kiddie pool. While putting certain children on time-out steps and wondering what on earth to do next. While wiping tables, bottoms, and countertops. While slicing onions and running through a few recipes in my head. While picking up again and again and again. While driving with the background noise at a deafening level. While running a few city blocks in silence. While peeking in on sleeping cherubs in their beds. While doubting, fearing, rejoicing, and giving thanks. He hears our silent prayers.

The past week it seems like our kids have fallen asleep in the weirdest places. While watching a movie, the boys fell asleep like this:

The other night Elsie fell out of bed and kept right on sleeping. I couldn’t lift her back onto her bed, and thought Matthew would before we went to bed. He forgot, and the next morning Elsie informed me that she slept on the floor all night. I felt bad, but it didn’t seem to bother her! Then, one night Jack was determined to wait up until Matthew and I came in from the front porch where we were talking. When I came inside to get something, I almost tripped over his sleeping body.

Both Elijah and Jack had the privilege of going to work with their Daddy one day the past week. Jack created a few things out of scrap wood. Here he is, holding his “Goliath Sword”.
Besides all of the usual keep-the-house-clean-feed-the-bellies-do-laundry-pull-weeds-kind-of-days, I’ve been burning the midnight oil and writing papers to finish up my doula recertification. I am one credit away from mailing in all my paperwork that I’ve been working on for the past three years. I am so excited to check it off my list and delve into school planning for next year. I sold all of my books which we used the past two years, and am excited for our new ones to arrive next week! I am hoping to plan out the bulk of the year before truly relaxing for a couple of months. Matthew has been an incredible support for me as I have pursued my dreams and goals. We are enjoying doing cross-fit together and eating 100% paleo! More on that another time! I do just want to say how incredible Matthew’s health has been since zeroing in on his diet. I have finally come alongside him in eating a disciplined diet and it’s such a blessing to be united in this area. God is teaching us many things as we wait on Him and trust Him with our unknowns. When He says, This is the way, walk in it… we have no choice but to obey. It might just mean eating more vegetables. It might mean how we do school. It might mean staying put. It might mean moving forward.
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Stopping to Smell & Remember

June 1, 2013June 1, 2013 / amylynw / 2 Comments

As busy as it is around here, I always stop to smell the roses. Every day. They’re the old-fashioned, smell-divine variety. Taking in its beauty both in sight and fragrance, I was reminded of one of my favorite quotes, spoken by the One who holds all things together:

Do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more important than food, and the body more than clothing? [Yes.] Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? [YES!]

And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life? [None of us.]

And why are you anxious about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.

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But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is alive and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you, o you of little faith? Therefore… [because you know these things to be true] do not be anxious…

Your heavenly Father knows that you need them all.

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-Matthew 6:25-34, selected

Epiphany

May 6, 2013May 6, 2013 / amylynw / 4 Comments

This weekend I grasped a simple and striking reality when He talked to me. I was doing something I often wish I could do, but is most generally impossible to do in this stage of life. I was lying in the middle of a dandelion-covered field, on a sheet, in the sunshine. Alone. It was warm, and the vitamin D felt like it was pumping through my body as strongly as any intravenous solution might. I felt as if the world was so huge, and I was so small… yet, I could imagine God looking down at the world, then zooming in right to me, just like those satellites do in the movies. Quickly, I went from being an impossibly small obscurity in a big world, to an actual specific person. He saw me lying on my stomach, in that field, jotting down my insecurities on a piece of notebook paper.

I went out there to pray, but couldn’t find the words. I was so wrapped up in comparisons, insecurities, and wonderings about who I am and why. I wrote them down, then flipped over onto my back and just waited. I had to hear from Him. Like the Jacob of Genesis, I told the Lord I would not let Him go or leave that spot, until He blessed me and spoke to me. The sun warmed my skin and the voices from my paper kept intruding. Then all of a sudden, His strong voice broke through and overpowered it all.

It was so clear. He said, Amy, I love you for all those things. Startled, I brought up another doubt and He said, I love that about you! I would say yet another thing I find uncomfortable or awkward about myself and He would clearly cover over the negative with the healing words: I love that you are just that way. You are absolutely a perfect you. Exactly what I fashioned, exactly how I wanted you to turn out. I love you, I love you, I love you.

The peace that passes understanding took up firm guard around my heart and mind during those moments. As the tears flowed and the sun shone, His words burned deep impressions into my soul. He doesn’t love us in spite of our quirks or what we tend to call mistakes in our makeups… He loves us for all those specific things. He loves everything about you. The color of your hair. The formation of your jaw. The size of your feet. The length of your eyelashes. The width of your hips. The tone of your skin. The way you laugh. The special way you tilt your head or twist your fingers together. Your sense of humor. Your ability or inability to sing. The amazing way you have with children. Where you were born. Who you look like. What your style is. When you like to go to bed. Why your nose is the way it is. He loves how your emotions work. He loves how you think and what makes you tick. He loves your smile, your taste, your mind. He loves how you can cook. He loves your organizational skills or lack thereof. He loves your sanguine, your choleric, your melancholy, or your phlegmatic personality. He loves your creativity. Your love of colors. Your love of black and white. Your need of space. Your need of community. Your punctuality. Your lateness. Your eyes, your hands, your ears, your heart. He loves you.

The only thing I can think of that He doesn’t love, is our sin. Yes, even though He hates sin, He loves you and me, the sinner. So often when we mess up, we beat ourselves up and forget His love which forgives. We may feel like our face is the last thing He wants to see or think about. Sometimes our sin is believing the lie which says we are just messed up works of clay. Not just cracked, but severely unusable and unable to be loved. Yet, that crack down your side is exactly where He placed it, and He loves you for it. So if your heart is beaten and bruised by lies and insecurities, know the truth: the God who made you, loves you. He is waiting for you to lie down in green pastures, perhaps even filled with dandelions, so He can restore your soul.

Accidental Gardener

May 2, 2013May 2, 2013 / amylynw / Leave a comment

Mommy keeps getting up, Mommy never sits do-own, Elsie is singing in her little sing-song voice, as I make pancakes, flip pancakes, and feed ravenous children. Feels true most days. That girl is pretty perceptive. She is also reading whole books. She is what I call an accidental learner. Didn’t really try to teach her, but somehow it happened. All of a sudden she went from cat and dot, to Funny funny Jane went down with her yellow boat… or something like that.

I’m what I like to call an accidental gardener. I tend to toss seeds in the ground, convince myself I’ll remember what I planted, and promptly forget. I also re-potted some zucchini… or yellow squash… not sure which. Guess we’ll find out in a couple of months! Into the ground they went. The tee-pee village is planted with beans, or peas, or something that climbs! I just forget which is where. I think I’ve mentioned before that I like surprises!

Some surprises I don’t like in particular are those of the check-engine-light variety. This week we’ve been stuck at home while the van was in the shop. Then we were given the word we really expected to receive years ago: Your van is not worth fixing. It just might crumble if they fix the list of things that need attention. It wasn’t really a surprise, I guess. It’s like thinking spring will never come, just because it feels like winter will never end. Yet spring surprises us every year. So even though it felt like our van would never die, its retirement was guaranteed. Sixteen years old, almost 240,000 miles… it’s seen the birth of three kids and experienced the growth of five… traveled cross-country, up north, south, and west many times, and in general gets good use. We couldn’t be more thankful. We shopped for it when we lived in Honduras, and prayed for no one to buy it when we found it online. Awesome story of how God provided it. He obviously had it marked out specially for us. And He can do that again.

After writing all of the above, life happened! Not wanting to be known as the mommy who never sits down, today I sat down. Not mindlessly, and not to give in to the melancholy that was swiftly setting in from anxious thoughts rising to the forefront of my mind. I sat in the sunshine, red mug in hand, Bible open.

Yes, I had a chattering shadow, but I’m learning how “quiet time” in my heart doesn’t necessarily mean it’s quiet all around me. My eyes fell to the page, heart aching to be filled. Hungry, like it’s been awhile since a good meal. Colossians 3:15 filled me up: Let the peace of God rule in your hearts…and be thankful. A two-fold, sturdy step for my anxious heart to take hold. First, I had to ask myself: What else is ruling? Myself? Worry? Anger? Usually what’s in charge is the first thing that is evident to those around you and to yourself. I knew peace was not ruling. It felt a little bit more like uncertainty and a swiftly beating heart was ruling, every time I looked out the window at our sad, sad van. Saying He will provide, to others, is much easier than telling it to myself.

Let the peace of God rule. Allow it, invite it to permeate every inch of my heart. Spread it around like flower seeds and watch it grow. It will produce more peace every time.

Be thankful. Oy, that’s a hard one, when all I want to do is complain, compare, and covet. It’s non-negotiable, though. As any grammar freak knows, this is not a question, nor a statement, nor an exclamation, but a command. With all commands, we can choose to obey or not. The consequences of not obeying result in all the things we fight against: complaining, comparing, and coveting. Thankfulness brings Christ right into focus, fading out what doesn’t matter.

So, as we step into the unknown, I am reminded: my God is the God-Who-Provides. He is never accidental in what He does.

Up-Cycling My Day

April 24, 2013April 24, 2013 / amylynw / Leave a comment

I took a big girl pill yesterday and cleaned. my. room. When I say clean, what I also mean is… you guessed is… rearrange! As I was working in the kitchen last night I grinned when Matthew yelled down the stairs to me, You’re crazy! Elijah, always overhearing things said, Mom? Did Dad just say you’re crazy? Yes, son, he did. That is how I clean. I must move things. I even got brave and threw away half of my old cassette tapes. What are those, you ask? Take a look see:

When I was just a bit older than my daughter, I used to record Odyssey episodes from the radio onto cassettes. Then I labeled them, lined them up in order and made a spread sheet of my collection. Hand-written, of course. See, there is a bit of organization deep within me somewhere that hasn’t been zapped by five child-births and the accumulation of clothing, food, and dishes we now produce each day. I’m always on a quest for better organization, more purging, and up-cycling whatever has lived out its original purpose.

I went to bed on a sort of cleaning high. Then, this morning started off with crying and fighting and pee on the floor. My clean room was quickly forgotten and I stormed around like an angry elephant. My tea was warmed up too many times. I got INTERRUPTED while I tried to read my Bible. Imagine. Then before you know it, the mayhem began again at lunchtime. But tucked in these harrowed time slots are moments of joy and beauty within the mess. Jack read me an entire book. This is huge. So proud of him!

While someone annoyed someone else, I kept my voice down, sat the culprit on the step, then we calmly discussed how the situation could have been handled better. This too is huge. Inside I’m a door-slammer and a foot-stomper, so when the outside stays calm, this is a huge victory that I praise God for strengthening me to do!

Betty, though potty-trained for a few months now, had been pooping in her pants a lot. The past few days it’s gone into the potty, not the panties, and she chatters about the treat she will get after she’s done. Two chocolate chips were never better earned! Saving wipes and mommy’s sanity is indeed something to celebrate!

So, though every moment is to be celebrated because we’re alive to breathe it, we often don’t. I think about Boston, and how a few runners were just about to the finish line, on the biggest high of their day, when everything erupted into chaos and horror. Life does that to us. We don’t know what our next moment will bring. We can not act surprised, though when things get dirty and horrible and messed up. In this life, you will have trouble. But take heart, I have overcome the world! (John 16:33) This means that trouble is guaranteed. But something else is for certain as well: Jesus has overcome the world by His death on the cross! He has… it’s already done. Since it’s a finished work, we don’t have to wallow in the darkness, sorrow, and disappointment that comes our way. He is there to calm our voices, steady our minds, and lighten our hearts.

When a day is all wrong and we want a new one, we have to remember we’re only given today. Through Christ, we can have courage and victory, because He already has.

The Dog Days Are Over

April 6, 2013April 6, 2013 / amylynw / Leave a comment

Too bad those days are over, Jack remarked to me, after remembering how Betty used to crawl.One thing is for certain: it is not too bad the sick days are coming to a close. This week, all I felt like I did was put straws of liquid into my children’s mouths and wash soiled laundry. But that meant no one died of dehydration (which happens every day around the world) and no one had to sleep in their own waste (which also happens every day around the world). What a privilege to give my children that gift.

Some of the first ones to get well.

Now, unfortunately, Matthew is plagued by the B-U-G and has had seventeen hours of sleep today so far.

Even though I experienced only 5 days of quarantine, I got a real taste of separation. Away from society, fun, and spontaneity, I felt really cut off from life.

It reminded me of a story. Every day, we sing a little song with Betty called “Ten Men”. It tells the story of ten lepers whom Jesus healed. They all got excited, and they all ran away! [we dance our hands around and then hide them behind our back] Except for one man… [we hold up our pointer finger] HE came back and said, “Thank you, thank you, Jesus.” I felt a teeny tiny bit like those lepers may have felt. Blocked from society, unclean, everyone keeping their distance. It’s rough! I can’t imagine what it must have been like for years and years to be in such isolated loneliness.

It’s so interesting that Jesus heals all ten, even though only one was grateful to Him about it. I would guess they felt grateful, but they didn’t glorify God or even thank Him for healing them. We’re like that a lot. The percentage of things we thank God for probably equals the ten percent of lepers that thanked Him for their healing. Every day He does miracles and wonders without any thanks from us to Him.

We might not suffer from leprosy of the skin, but we all suffer from what God calls leprosy of the heart. Another word for it is sin. It’s incurable without His touch. It separates us from God’s love, God’s forgiveness, and His abundant life. It’s lonely business being sick. Yet we’re fooled into thinking that the loneliness we feel deep inside our gut is a lack of something we can do to fill. A lie is whispered into every heart that beats: This [fill in the blank] will satisfy your loneliness. But we don’t realize the very One we’re separated from, is the One for whom we’re longing. We’re bombarded with noise and temporary satisfaction every single day. It’s so loud, we can’t hear the feet of Jesus walking past us, waiting for us to cry out to Him. See, He made Himself available to those men… He came and preached peace to you who were far off. They were distant, knew their condition, and cried out for mercy. But now in Christ Jesus, you who once were far away have been brought near by the blood of Christ.

It wasn’t anything they did. For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God— not by works, so that no one can boast. When the one leper turned around, he fell on his face before Jesus and thanked Him.

That’s all it takes to go from being a leper to being whole. From loneliness to complete satisfaction. From sinner to saint. From eternal death to eternal life. One thing is for certain: when we finally see Jesus face to face, we will never say about our time here on earth: Too bad those days are over.

[Bible excerpts are found in Ephesians chapter 2]

Four Days in Ward 408

April 4, 2013April 4, 2013 / amylynw / 1 Comment

The fact that I’ve warmed up my tea six times in the past four hours is not a good sign. Neither are the blankets, pillows and bowls scattered over the living room floor. Since Monday at 1AM we’ve had three to five kids sick: blazing both ends, fevers and weakness. Right now the count is at five. I’ve never experienced this in my ten years of mommy-hood. Usually one or two at a time, but never all at once and in such an acute, long drawn out fashion. I have been keeping it together pretty well. Until around 10:45, when I realized it is Thursday. Thursday over here means I better not forget to move the van to the other side of the street, or else our city gets an extra Andrew Jackson in their bank account. Ugh. When I ran outside and saw the unhappy yellow slip on my windshield, I burst into tears, sobbing into the steering wheel. Don’t they know I have sick kids and can’t think straight??!! I yelled. Nope. No, they don’t. But my wonderful Heavenly Father does.

He is right here.
But I am continually with you; you hold my right hand. Psalm 73:23

He loves them more than I do. If I was living when Jesus was on this earth, I would have been one of those parents who brought their babies to Him, hoping He would touch them. Luke 18:15-17

He is the Healer.
The Lord supports him on his sickbed; you completely heal him from his illness. Psalm 41:3

He is my strength when I can’t do it anymore.
Assure me with these words: “I am your deliverer!” Psalm 35:3
Don’t be afraid, for I am with you! Don’t be frightened, for I am your God! I strengthen you— yes, I help you— yes, I uphold you with my saving right hand! Isaiah 41:10

So, one step at a time, we get through this trial. There have been so many At Least moments this week. At least I can be home and am not sick and can take care of them. At least we have a working washing machine and beautiful sunny days to hang up wash on the clothes line. At least we have water. At least we are usually healthy! God IS good, even when circumstances are horrible. Just because we’re sick and tired doesn’t mean He took a vacation. Just because I feel worn out, doesn’t mean He is. He actually says that is when His strength is made perfect. Not when everything is hunky dory and the sun is shining. Nope. His strength is perfect when we’re at our weakest, darkest, most vulnerable points in life. That’s when His grace, strength, and glory really shine.

You know, this girl right here can’t handle another day in the hospital ward of my living room. But because I have to, I’m forced to abandon my own strength and say it’s ALL Christ and NONE of me. Hands full or hands empty. Whatever I have, wherever I am, I can make it through anything in the One who makes me who I am. Philippians 4:13

Time for a fresh cup of tea.

Grow Old With Me

(the story of our life)

faith

The Confession of the Pork Sausage

Scrambled Tea

Hope Postponed

In My Head

Stopping to Smell & Remember

Epiphany

Accidental Gardener

Up-Cycling My Day

The Dog Days Are Over

Four Days in Ward 408

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