Tuesday, October 4, 2016

We've been in Maine now for two years and almost two months.  Wow... to me, that seems like a long time.  So much life has been lived here... and I guess I'm sitting here on this quiet afternoon, reflecting on that.

You know, when you make as big of a move as we did, you try to prepare for it... I did.  I talked about it and talked and talked and talked... and I prayed and prayed (probably talked more than I prayed!)... I even went to counseling and tried to work through how I felt about the upcoming transition.

But you know what?... life is kind of big.  And I've learned that you can't always prepare yourself for what's coming... because you just don't know.  So there I was with my little prepared self and we moved... and a few months went by and life just came... like a tsunami.  There was the normal "adjustment" stuff, which I had tried to prepare for and do my best.  But then there was also incredible hardship, death... and it knocked me off my feet and plowed me on to the ground.

And here I am... sometimes still trying to figure out if I've stood up... or am I still laying flat on the ground?  Maybe it depends on the day.  I guess grief is like that... you lose precious things that you had and loved, and precious things that you haven't had but thought you'd have... and you're left with empty hands and a confused heart.  For me, it takes time... more than I thought... to sort through the debris after a tsunami.

And when you're new to a place, like we are, you don't know how or who to reach out to for help.  Who is our community?  Well, I guess I don't know for sure.  Maybe that community is still being formed.  I think it takes time in this part of the country for community to happen... maybe that's true of any part of the country.  But we've walked through the valley of the shadow of death, and when I would normally be grabbing on desperately to family and friends, Ben and I have kind of looked at each other and grabbed on to each other.  Maybe we'll find that we're stronger, sewn together because of what we've walked through together.  But honestly, I would have loved for my old friends and family to be sitting on my couch with me too.

There's been a line that has popped up in my head a lot during the past two years. I think I heard it in a song... but I was reading the Psalms yesterday, and wow, there it was.  I can't get it out of my head.  It's actually in the Bible... how beautiful.

Who is like the LORD our God, the One who sits enthroned on high, who stoops down to look on the heavens and the earth?  He raises the poor from the dust and lifts the needy from the ash heap; he seats them with princes, with the princes of their people.  He settles the barren woman in her home as a happy mother of children.  ~Psalm 113

When I feel like I've lived the past two years in sort of a feeling of oblivion, what this tells me is that I have been seen and I have been known.  The LORD, He raises the poor, He lifts the needy, seats them with princes, settles the barren woman as a happy mother.  I don't know what this particularly will mean in my life... there is so much of my story that I don't know yet... but the LORD sees, knows, raises, lifts, seats, and settles.  These are good things... and how this is good news to me.

Thursday, December 11, 2014

I remember that night last week in the ER, knowing that we were going to lose our baby, and that I was probably going to go through surgery before the night was through.  I could barely stand or even move... I looked around at all those people in the waiting room who didn't know us and had no idea what we were going through.  I could feel that old mean tug on my heart... the Enemy who so wants to convince us, "God doesn't care about you."

So I closed my eyes, shut out the ER for a few moments, and plead with God, "Show up here, please, God. In this awful mess.  In my broken and terrified heart.  Show me that You are near, close.  Taking care of us."

And He has.  Over and over again.  I've been reminding myself as I walk through this terribly difficult week that I NEED to write these things down.  I MUST remember.  God is incredibly faithful, so close.  I NEED to remember this.

So I remember...

the familiar headlights of my parents' car pulling in the driveway at the hospital... knowing they were there for me.  my husband running out to meet them and my mom rushing in to hug me in the ER. my dad walking Ben to the hospital cafeteria to give him some food and encouragement.

the kind, compassionate eyes of the ER doctor as he first came into my room to talk to me.

the understanding young nurse who stopped to tell me, "this is not your fault.  please take care of yourself as you walk through this."

Ben, my husband, over and over again grabbing my hand, kissing my head, singing to me, praying with me, reminding me of funny things and making me laugh.

coming out of surgery... waking up and finding a kind nurse in my room whenever I needed her, bringing me ice cream, cereal, ginger ale - whatever I wanted.  reassuring and comforting me, almost like she never left my room all night.  I wonder if she was an angel...

the grandmotherly nurse who discharged me the next morning, who sat down next to me on my bed and talked to me about my heart... how are you doing with this, she said.

the unexpected snow day... so Ben could drive me home and stay with me all day.

the kind little white dog that I borrowed from my parents while I am home healing... he doesn't leave my side and I love it.

text messages, phone calls, and prayers from friends that come at JUST the right time.

a husband who hugs and comforts me and REALLY helps me to believe that it is going to be ok.


Once again I’ll go over what God has done,
    lay out on the table the ancient wonders;
I’ll ponder all the things you’ve accomplished,
    and give a long, loving look at your acts.
 O God! Your way is holy!
    No god is great like God!
You’re the God who makes things happen;
    you showed everyone what you can do—
You pulled your people out of the worst kind of trouble,
    rescued the children of Jacob and Joseph.
                                                         ~Psalm 77

Tuesday, December 9, 2014



Psalm 23 has been a dear friend to me these days...

Maybe I'll write more when I can re-surface a bit... all I can say for now is that my husband and I lost our baby at 6 weeks.  I'm clinging to Jesus by my finger nails and looking to Him for each day.  He is good, close, and faithful, and in these days, I hear HIS beautiful voice speaking to ME...

"GOD, my shepherd!
I shall not want.
You have bedded me down in lush meadows,
you find me quiet pools to drink from.
True to your word, you let me catch my breath
and send me in the right direction.

Even when the way goes through
the valley of the shadow of death,
I am not afraid when you walk by my side.
Your trusty shepherd's crook
makes me feel secure.

You serve me a six-course dinner
right in front of my enemies.
You revive my drooping head;
my cups brims with blessing.

Your beauty and love chase after me
every day of my life.
I'm back at home in the house of GOD
for the rest of my life."
~The Message




And I SEE His kindness to me in giving me this man.  He makes me smile and laugh and he is the greatest gift I have ever been given.


And the little white fur ball sitting next to me... I borrowed my parents' dog for a few days, for a bit of extra companionship while I am at home healing.  He has not left my side today and I really love that.

Saturday, May 10, 2014

It has been a long time since I have written a blog post.  Not since I have wanted to write a blog post... but since I have actually sat down and written one... and then published it.

Welcome to my whirlwind.  Gosh, I've been reflecting over the past two years... and I see a curvy road with quite a few signposts along the way.  New church (campus)... new job... new boyfriend, then fiance, then husband... new home across the river... new marriage... new friends.

2014 so far has held many tiny changes that have amounted to big changes in my life.  I have sat down many times to write... but have found it difficult to slow my heart enough to pull thoughts from it.  How do you slow a heart so filled with feelings, emotions, impressions, expressions?  I move slow when it comes to change - I take it in, chew on it, mull for a while... I want to move fast, but I find that change just takes time... and a lot of trust and grace as I learn to absorb.

But I want to write again... sink down deep to the center of my soul and write about what is there.

One line has been playing over and over in my head...


we are not as strong as we think we are.

This is what I am learning as I transition.  I feel so urged to take my new life by the horns, master it, and race forward full steam ahead.  Yet, I often feel like I am standing on my tip-toes, still surveying a new landscape and figuring out my way.  My muscles feel small at times when I thought I would emerge big and strong.

oh... I am not as strong as I think I am.

I re-surface to embrace this blessed truth. I am 'frail, fearfully and wonderfully made,' and I am God's.  And He is big so I think that means that I do not have to be.  I learn the blessedness that He becomes greater and I become less... and this does not threaten me.  I think it is meant to free me.

I've been watching the new Rich Mullins movie this week (over and over!) and I think this was his journey too.  Maybe all of ours?  If we let it?  Here's how he said it...


the conclusion of the matter for me was that I would rather live on the verge of falling and let my security be in the all-sufficiency of the grace of God than to live in some kind of pietistic illusion of moral excellence.  not that I don't want to be morally excellent but my faith isn't in the idea that I am more moral than anyone else... my faith is in the idea that God and His love are greater than whatever sins any of us commit.

Maybe we are all learning this together... 

Thursday, November 15, 2012

giving thanks

I dug through my extra-large purse the other day and found a tattered little book in the bottom that I had forgotten about.  It was a little notebook with one page of writing - back in September, I had dedicated that book as my "book of thanks."  I took a page and began listing the big and little things in my life that stand out to me as blessed reminders that God is here, with me, now. Life filled up and I forgot about that little book... until the other day when I found it again.

I only work part-time now but somehow, life has filled up again.  And in the full, I find myself running faster and my heart struggles to sit still and remember.  Oh how I forget.  But tonight - tonight, I dedicated as quiet time.  And I sit at the corner table at Starbucks and I remember.  Oh how I remember.  So here's what I wrote then and here's what I'm remembering now.  May I continue to add to it.  And blessed Jesus, may I remember You and worship.

i will remember the deeds of the LORD; yes, i will remember your wonders of old. i will ponder all your work, and meditate on your mighty deeds. your way, o God, is holy. what god is great like our God? you are the God who works wonders; you have made known your might among the peoples. you with your arm redeemed your people.  ~Psalm 77

  1. a faithful pastor who preaches the Word openly and truthfully every Sunday.  I miss it when I'm not there.
  2. a kind, good-hearted boyfriend who wakes me up each morning with a text message and blessing on my day... and who chose to change churches so we could be together on Sundays... and who prays with me with an open heart.
  3. my curly hair - I really have come to love it! and the hair-cut place that cuts my bangs for free.
  4. my kind and loving nana who washes my clothes (when I do not ask her to!) and is mending my torn skirt.
  5. Henri Nouwen's words of kindness and truth.
  6. a new friend who sends me an e-mail of encouragement at just the right time.
  7. Saturdays! to get my life in order.
  8. my faithful old car - 138,000 miles strong!
  9. the unconditional invitation of Jesus that is not dependent upon me - "come to me and I will give you rest..." 
  10. my mom who calls me three days in a row to try to catch up with me because she loves me that much.
  11. when I haven't been a faithful Bible-reader and my soul misses it so much, that I open my Bible and it feels like an old friend.
  12. TWO days off in a row!!
  13. when I'm in a really bad mood and having a really bad day and Ben says, "let's decorate for Christmas early." And somehow in the lights and the music and the little tree and the nog and his bear hugs, I feel happy again.
  14. the grande peppermint mocha that the kind lady at Starbucks gave to me for free!
  15. that there really is no rule that says you have to wait until Thanksgiving to listen to Christmas music... because it sure has blessed my soul today!

Saturday, September 29, 2012

the good part of it

Ben called me last weekend while I was visiting my brother Sam in his home state of Virginia.  I realized it was September 22nd - exactly one month since Ben had asked me to be his girlfriend.  We talked that night for long time, me in Virginia and him in Pennsylvania... it was wonderful.  He dug through his old files and found a card that I had written to him six years ago when he was first diagnosed with diabetes.  He read it to me and it brought tears to my eyes.

I remember my wise uncle saying to me back then, "leave him with a blessing and you can never know what might happen in the future."  I didn't really believe him back then but here we are - six years later and that man that I admired so long ago is my boyfriend.  Today we sat together at the Sage Diner and marveled at it again - we have no clue how we got to this place except that God has been at work in some big, mysterious ways.  Tonight, all I can do is raise my hands and my heart up in the air and thank Him.

Full circle.  That's what I call it when He takes something that once was hard and brings redemption, restoration - beauty from ashes, gladness from mourning.  When I let Ben go six years ago, I really let him go.  Six years later, he came back... and now, here I am in relationship with someone who already is so special to me. What an adventure.  Today, I stared at that man across the booth from me - the one who holds my hands and comforts me so well just by the way he looks at me.  I do not understand how God works, but I am very, very grateful.  

I began this summer with visions of adventures in a new job at a new church and as a fledgling counselor.  God, in His wisdom and sovereignty, directed me to postpone that fledgling counselor bit for a few months.  And I continue to learn how to be a boss at a new job in a new church.  And now, I also find myself in an entirely new adventure - a relationship.  I didn't see it coming, but God certainly did.  And what an adventure it is.  You know, it's really true that He is the Writer of our stories.  So I buckle down, and I hold on, and I look forward with excitement to how the story will continue to be told.  When you have such a Writer, you really can never know what's next... and that's the good part of it.

Friday, August 17, 2012

same

Six years ago, we met at a party...  a spontaneous party that my sister threw at my apartment.  In the midst of all of the hub-bub and all of the friends, we somehow found each other and we sat down and we talked.  It wasn't long before we realized that we loved the same places and the same mountains and the same animals and even some of the same books!  How fun it was to find so much "same."

Six years later, you showed up so unexpectedly.  You asked me to meet you for coffee and we did.  And again, we loved the same places and the same mountains and the same animals and the same books!  We told stories and we laughed and we talked.  Again, so much "same"... so much fun.

But this time was different... because there was a different kind of "same."  Six years later, it seems that somehow, we've come to know the same God.  Our paths have been different but our journeys so much the same.  I listen to you and I think to myself, "I get it."

So I thank you, my friend, for showing up now, as you have, and for letting me experience more of this "same."  You are like a breath of fresh, clean air, a reminder to me that stories continue to be told and pages can turn suddenly... and what you find on the next page can be even better than the page before.  I think that's my favorite part.