Forever I Will Run

"Only your love has captured my heart.
I hear you calling come, come, come.
So I will run, forever I will run
Unto You, oh God.
Where else can I go?
Forever I will run".

As we sang this in service today, I was thinking about what this song would mean to those sitting in the congregation. We have fitness enthusiasts who run. I could see them thinking of the consistency, the training, the constant running for the prize. Many have been delivered from circumstances they could not overcome on their own. I could see some saying "I will run" and meaning that they would flee temptation and danger and seek shelter in the everlasting... arms.

But I had a different thought than that. I imagined a dog whose owner has been away for days. Or a child who has been waiting at home all day for their father to come home. I heard those words He utters as He enters the room - the heart: "Daddy's Home!" And I saw the joy of that child, running with abandon to the door to be swept up into Daddy's arms. The joy of a faithful pet who can't contain his excitement and jumps and trembles with exuberance at being in the presence of his master who loves him.

Now, I know we're not small children, nor either a faithful dog. But He has captured my heart so completely. Where else can I run? Who else calls "Daddy's home!" and my heart runs to him in worship and praise? I want to remember this the next time life is overwhelming (probably later today!) - He is home, He has captured my heart - and I will run. Forever I will run.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mTNjM3UnX3I

Getting Intentional

What does it mean to be intentional?  I better figure it out, because that is the word I believe God is speaking to me right now.  It started during worship two weeks ago, singing "I will bless the Lord, bless the Lord at all times".  The key there is "I will".  The blessing His name - and certainly not the "at all times", cannot happen unless there is first an "I will" - I will choose, I will act, I will praise. I choose to set my will to praising Him.

As I have spent more time thinking about this concept of "I will", I've realized that so much of the time lately I haven't been saying "I will".  I've been saying, "I can't", "I won't", or "I'll wait".  "I'll wait" is the most egregious of all, simply because it doesn't feel like disobedience or defiance - it just feels like coasting. Coasting doesn't hurt anyone, does it?  I'm not so sure about that.  In the few years that I've said "I'll wait", I've seen some pretty poor results.

I need to lose weight, but I'll wait - and I've gained 40 pounds that I need to lose now.
I want to start a business, but I'll wait - and in the meantime, I've seen 4 new nationwide success stories of similar businesses started by women who didn't wait.
I need to get our budget done, but I'll wait - and now our financial issues are harder than ever.

Moving forward - being intentional and saying "I WILL" is scary and difficult. But I better figure it out. The clock is ticking and I don't want my chances to say "I will" become "I wish I had".

What about you?  What does getting intentional mean to you? What does it look like?

The Free Car Repair - or - Above What You Can Imagine.

I mentioned the other day that I was choosing the be encouraged in the Lord in spite of our financial issues. The most glaring thing we were facing was the sudden problems with our car last Thursday night. When it died, I just couldn't put it all together. The car was clearly leaking antifreeze, but it also had an electrical system light on, a rubbing noise as it drove, and the steering completely locked when I put it in park. It honestly looked like it had major issues and I couldn't begin to understand where the money to pay for it was going to come from. The one thing that Champs and I agreed on was that we were still going to tithe, no matter what.

Champs started looking at the car and realized that the reason the electrical light had gone on was related to the rubbing sound I heard as the car drove: The alternator belt had gotten wet with antifreeze. Because of this, it couldn't spin properly and it rubbed. This made the battery run down, causing the light to go on.

As for the steering, when Champs went out and bought the proper antifreeze to refill the reservoir, the steering unlocked. Turns out that was a safety feature designed to keep us from driving the car with a dry radiator and cracking the block. He narrowed it down to either the water hose or the water pump. Now our biggest problem was how to pay for it.

Champs called and got some estimates; $150.00 at one place, but he gave us no confidence he knew how to fix it. $350.00 at another place. At that point, I asked Champs to call the dealer. The cars nowadays are so much more complicated than they were when my father was a mechanic in the 70's. If it was only a bit more, I would be willing to pay to make sure it was done right.

Sullivan told us it would be $500.00, and then asked us what the mileage was. At 45,000 miles, the Bumper-to-bumper warranty expired awhile ago. However, what neither Champs or I took into consideration was the POWER TRAIN WARRANTY! The Sullivan rep told us the repair would be free - and it was.

This is exactly the miracle we were praying for. I couldn't begin to imagine where the money to pay for the repairs would come from. My Mother-in-law offered to loan us her credit card, but neither Champs nor I could see how getting further in debt would be the best way out of this. In the end, all we could do was just pray, determine in our hearts to expect the best from God, and then watch as He figured it out. This is exactly the miracle we asked for. Perhaps we should have asked for more? Next, Lord, John needs a good job. And yes, we are going to stand firm in what You've called us to.

Choosing encourgment

The one and only reason I am sitting at this computer to type anything is because I promised myself I would write every single day for the rest of November. I have to be up at 5:00 a.m. tomorrow to work early, and then take my mom to the hospital for a CAT scan at 12:30. As it is is 11:30 now, this will be short.

Champs and I decided to tithe. We took the challenge to see God's faithfulness to our family. Although right at the moment I am discouraged like you would not believe, I am also choosing to be encouraged.

Why? Because we have no money. Christmas is 6 weeks away. We're behind on the house payment. Champs has been out of work for months. I've been so busy working that I haven't kept up with the bills and responsibilities here at home. And just tonight our car (oh yeah, we're behind on that payment, too) locked up and died in our driveway, leaking pink fluid. Champs thinks it has a torn coolant hose. I'm really glad I got to the driveway before the steering locked.

And at a time like this, I can choose to be upset with God, or I can choose to look to the bigger picture. If Satan is trying this hard to make us stop tithing, then God must have something really good planned if we can stay the course and be faithful.

Oh Lord, I hope so.

The Display of His Splendor

For the first time in our marriage, John and I have been attending Wednesday night church and it has been really good. He goes off to "Man Cave" (where he has been encouraged to grow the beard I wrote about the other day), and I go to "Ladies Night". Our group has been going through the Beth Moore video series "Breaking Free" and also doing some small group sessions. It has been pretty good; I've discovered that I do have some things that I need to break free of, and I've discovered that in some areas, I am doing really well.

Tonight's lesson - the last in the series - was "The display of his splendor", and it talked about how we, as Christians, are Witnesses, Warriors, and Brides. The last point, that of being the bride of Christ, was to focus on how delighted God is in each of us. How unique we are and how He made us that way. Or, as the speaker said, "When God made you, He said "I'll never do that again!" Cute.

When we broke up for our small group session, we had the hardest assignment yet. We were to actually see ourselves as the display of His splendor. How? With the very practical assignment of working by ourselves for a few minutes to write 5 statements that would describe us to someone who didn't know us. They were to be positive statements only; no negatives. Do you have any idea how hard it is to say 5 positive things about yourself? Without adding a flip side of "of course, I talk way too much" or "I can't seem to keep up with my household duties"? No, it had to be positive.

So I scratched my head, tapped my pen, and then I wrote my list:
1. I have a good sense of humor (at least Champs says I do; it's one of the reasons he married me).
2. I am a good cook (just ask anyone who has had my chili or my lasagna).
3. You can depend on me to do what I say I will do (even if I'm doing 5 other things at the same time).
4. I am a strategic-thinking, organized problem solver (must be why I got my promotion this summer).
5. I am outgoing (the flip side is that I talk to much, but this was supposed to be all positive, no negatives, remember?).

And then, at the last minute, I decided to be an over-achiever and add one more to my list:
6. I give good massages (Really, really, good massages. 5 minutes of bliss kind of neck, shoulder, and hand massages. It's made me quite popular with my choir).

So there it is. A list - maybe complete, maybe only partial - of what makes me His Blond Girl. We had to share our lists with the others in our small group and I felt silly reading it off to the rest. I have to admit that I don't think it's much to brag about, but He made me and He loves me. So it is conceivable that even though the bills are unpaid, even though my house is a mess, and even though my hair needs washing, that I actually am a Display of His Glory.

If I Won a Million Dollars

Perhaps imagination is only intelligence having fun. ~George Scialabba

Thought is the labor of the intellect, reverie is its pleasure. ~Victor Hugo


So I tend to daydream a lot. When I am drifting in that space between awake and asleep; when I've been on the phone working on a tough problem for an hour; when work is done and I have 15 quiet minutes before dinner and I don't want to read or watch TV...I daydream.

My daydreams usually take the form of "what would I do if?" Some of my questions are painfully practical. "How would I cope if Champs died?" I answer that one quickly and move on. "How many cats are too many to own?" That one has answers ranging from one to ten, depending on my mood at the moment.

Some questions I ask myself often. The answer is usually the same, but with some variation along the way. Today's daydream question (a personal favorite) was "What would I do if I won a million dollars?" The first thing to consider is that I don't buy lottery tickets, and I have no rich relatives on the verge of passing, so I have no idea where this million would come from. Who knows? Raffle ticket, maybe, or from some essay contest. The "where from" is not an issue, really. It's that it showed up. Now what?

Well, I guess I have to think in order of God, Country, family. Meaning, 10% off the top for a tithe. So now there is $900,000.00. Then you have country. I'm thinking that Uncle Sam would want at least 30%, so now there is $567,000.00, give or take a Franklin or two.

Now the real fun can begin. Pay off every. single. bill. I can't tell you how much fun it would be to sit down with my checkbook and write a check for everything I owe to any person, any company, any loan. Pay off the house, the car, the back medical bills, every little thing. Oh Lord that would be the BEST DAY EVER!

OK, so after all that fun, let's say that there is about $380,000.00 or so left. Next up, fix the things in the house that must be fixed; new roof, new windows, new garage door, etc. A few plumbing issues, some odd issues with ceiling nails popping out of the drywall and a few issues in the crawlspace. Not decorating, just fixing - and we're down to oh, say, $300,000.00 or so.

A quick call to my financial advisor (whoever he is; it's not like I have one now!) and we've put away $100,000.00 or Sweet Girl's college and $100,000.00 for our retirement (which, I know, is not near enough, but oh well, it's not near enough now and I haven't actually won a cool mil, so I guess we'll just pretend that's not an issue.)

Well, in the space of a few days we're down to about $100,000.00 left. So this is where all the fun would happen. Some house decorating. A trip to Disney. A flat screen TV. New carpet. Knee surgery for our dog. A set of drums for Champs, a pink Buddy scooter for me, a clavanova for Sweet Girl, braces for everyone in the family (yes, Champs and me too), some great presents for family members, Oh, and chocolate. Lots of chocolate.

Because if you're going to spend your fertile imagination on how to spend a free million dollars, then there has to be some Godiva in there somewhere!

Blond Girl is in the house... for a couple more days, anyway

I'm not sure how many people will see this post; I am certain all my readers have given up on me and I can't blame them. However, I think I will soon be back to blogging. If not to keep friends and family posted, then just to keep my sanity.

As I've mentioned in the past, this has been a difficult year for us--especially financially. For me personally, it has been a year of identity crises. Who am I? What is my role in this world, this family, this town? I am beginning to learn some of the answers. I won't be sharing them tonight, but it will be coming.

No, tonight's blog is basically a newscast. Here's the big news: Since we moved here to Illinois, I've missed working for The Big Company and we have missed the income. Since we've moved here, I've often said "I want to live in Illinois and work in Minnesota! If only we had transporter technology..."

Guess what? God hears prayers and answers in unexpected ways! I won't have a transporter to use but... I have been asked to return to The Big Company and been offered a job as an Advanced Service Representative. I start on Monday, July 9. It's a step down in terms of my band level when I left Minnesota, but it's a huge step forward for our lives here in Illinois - and now that I'm back, I can work my way back up again. The best part is, I will be working from home as a virtual employee! Not only that, but I will continue working occasionally for my current (previous, as of Thursday) employer on a freelance basis. Cool, huh?

This answer to prayer couldn't have come at a better time and we are amazed at the hand of God on our behalf. Our lease is up soon and we were planning to move to a smaller home to save money - but having a hard time finding something that would meet our needs as nicely as the home we're renting now. However, now that I'm returning to The Big Company, we will be able to stay right here - no move, and a lot of stability for Sweet Girl. This is a wonderful thing because this new job comes at a bit of a price: I have to go back to Minneapolis for four months or so of training and then I'll come back home to be a virtual employee.

When I go to Minnesota on Saturday, Sweet Girl will go with me for a few weeks before school starts so that she can spend some time with Grandma and see some friends she's been missing for awhile. When school starts, she'll be back home with Daddy while I remain in Minneapolis to complete my training. Along the way, we're hoping for a few chances to see each other, as money and long weekends permit.

Although we're not looking forward to such a long separation, we know this is going to be a wonderful advancement for the family. I am already working to school my emotions to get through this... Looking toward the prize four months down the line. Please feel free to leave comments or say prayers for us. We are so thankful... and I have so much to do to be ready to go!


Here are some comments from this post:
kenju said...
I have NOT given up on you BG! I was reading through some comments on old posts just today and saw one of yours. I wondered how you were doing and here you are! Welcome back, if only for a few times. Good luck with the new job and with the separation. I'll add you to my prayer list.

Star said...
A scrifice for sure, but one that will bring you all many benefits. Good news indeed.

Geekwif said...
Woo hoo! I get you back! (if only for a few months) I know it's going to be hard for you to be away from your family, but you've got friends here who'll do what we can to keep you sane. (Think bead and consignment shopping with that new bigger paycheck of yours.) :)

Thumper said...
:::Does the wave::: Awesome!
(and I still check everyday to see if ya got a new post...I figured you were busy with Real Life...)

Carmi said...
I would never give up on you. My own career wild ride has forced me to stop reading my fave blogs for a bit, but I could never forget you or your writing.
I'm thrilled that this opportunity has found you. I believe good things happen to good people, and you've been long overdue for a lot of good things. I couldn't be happier for you, and I can't wait to read more about your amazing adventure.
Think of the stories you'll tell in the years to come.
Oh, before I forget: I'm now one of those virtual work-at-home types. If I can be of any help when you settle into your new role, let me know.

What you Ask For Vs. What You Get!

Or, be careful what you ask for; you may get it!

Tuesday morning I awoke with the weatherman's warnings ringing in my ears: Snow. Lots of Snow. All Day. OK, I can handle that, I figured. But as I was brushing my teeth and encouraging Sweet Girl to get her clothes on, I groaned to Champs, "Oh, I don't want to go to work today!" Roughly three minutes later the phone rang; it was my mother-in-law, who we call Grandma Dee. She explained that her tracheostomy had become clogged and she had to remove it. In order to get it reinserted, she needed to see her Otolaryngologist in Springfield - 85 miles away. Guess what? I didn't go to work, but I also didn't curl back up in bed like I really wanted to do.

Since we had to wait for Grandma Dee's doctor to get out of surgery, we didn't need to leave until 10:30. All the while, the snow was blowing and piling up. I picked up Grandma and off we went. Now, I am a Minnesota girl and snow doesn't faze me, but this was amazing! For the first hour of our trip, we were in white out conditions. As we hit the highway, I prayed that God would give me wisdom as I drove, help us to arrive safely and keep our wheels on the road.

Within a few minutes, I was smack dab behind two semi trucks which added to the whiteout problem. They had the outside lane to themselves, while the left inside lane was covered in blowing snow and ice. I had no choice; I had to pass the trucks on the left if I wanted to be able to see anything. I tried for at least 15 minutes, but I couldn't seem to get past them. Finally, I dropped back. I couldn't see the trucks ahead of me or any vehicles behind me. Another car came up and braved the left lane and I went right behind, following their ruts. It was hard work; the car was vibrating with the wind and snow. My muscles got so tight, but finally I got past them. The difference was amazing; I could see!

We continued on the trip and the snow thinned out as we neared Springfield. I passed two tankers and was in the left lane. Thankfully, there were no other cars near us. That's good, because about three miles out of town, I suddenly hit a patch of black ice. In an instant, I went from driving to ice skating. The car spun 180 degrees to the right, careening across the highway. Just as we neared the right shoulder, the car turned and spun to the left, this time going a full 360 degrees. The whole time, Grandma Dee was whispering "JESUS!" (since screaming won't work when you have a temporary treacheostomy in your throat) and I was silent, just doing my best to steer into the skid and hold it together. We flew across all the lanes, back and forth as though the car were hitting invisible bumpers and bouncing off. After about 1500 or so yards, we finally came to a stop, facing forward, on the edge of the highway at the left shoulder. The car was fine. We were fine. Amazingly, we didn't go into the ditch. After a few moments of just breathing and thanking the Lord, the two tankers went by and honked as if to say "good show!"

Grandma Dee broke the silence by reminding me, "well, you prayed that He would keep your wheels on the road. He did." Yeup. I got what I asked for - kind of. Next time I'll pray that, in addition to keeping my wheels on the road, He keeps them going forward! As I eased the car back onto the road, we marveled at how we had been protected. I drove around a bend where we could see a horrible sight; a state trooper and a tow truck were flanking a van resting on the right shoulder with the side completely crumpled in and the door ripped off. Truly, we had no words. We shook with gratitude, fear and wonder the rest of the way to the hospital, knowing that the hand of God had kept us safe.

When we got to the hospital and clinic, I had the car parked by valet parking (a very nice service for patients) and we went up to see her doctor. We got in right away, but the doctor explained that, in order to insert the proper trachea tube, she would have to put Dee under general anesthesia; surgery - and not until sometime after 4:00. Ugg! With the weather we were facing, I had wanted to be back on the road home in daylight. No way that was happening. I called Champs and we decided that, rather than heading back home in the dark and bad weather, I should stay in Springfield. I hadn't brought anything for an overnight, but oh well. I made a reservation at a local hotel and planned to stay with Grandma through the surgery.

Now, this part is a bit complicated, but basically, prior to yesterday's issue, Grandma Dee has needed to have a new special type of trachea tube inserted. The surgery was planned for some unspecified time in the future. I asked the doctor if, since Dee had to go under anyway, she could go ahead and insert the special tube - kind of a "two birds with one stone" approach. The doctor agreed that this would be a good idea and planned for it. Problem: that tube is a special order, costing over $1000.00. The surgical staff scoured the supplies for the special Montgomery tube. They thought they finally found one at a nearby hospital, but it turned out to be the wrong tube. You guessed it: No surgery today. The doctor could have put in a different tube, but then she would have had to operate again anyway to put in the special tube. By the time the decision was made, however, it was nearing 7:00. The doctor admitted Grandma to the hospital to await surgery on Thursday and to monitor the condition of the temporary tube. See, there it is again. Be careful what you ask for. Now, I know the doctor would have figured it out herself, but I am the one who asked her to use the special tube and you see - I didn't get exactly what I asked for! Thankfully, Dee understood that the wait will give a better return in the long run and was able to deal with the delay with a great attitude.

I called Champs and told him I could come home then or wait until morning. I explained that I would have to go to CVS and buy some toiletries and a tee shirt to sleep in. He said that was fine; in the end, it was better to spend some money and get home safely than it was to risk coming home in the dark - especially after my double-donuts experience earlier in the day. He told me to go to the hotel, crank up the heat, say my prayers, get some sleep, and come home to him in the morning.

And that's exactly what I did.



And here are some comments from this post:
Star said...
Thank goodness you are okay. That whole experience must have been frightening.

Geekwif said...
I didn't realize from your text messages that it was that bad! I'm so glad you made it safely!

Linda said...
God comes through when we least expect it...
and He always gives us what is BEST for us...not what we want, but what we need.
Glad you're safe...hope you and Grandma Dee don't have any more problems....

kenju said...
WHOA! You are much braver than I am. I stay home in snow and ice, so as not to stress God out with incessant praying...LOL

Pat said...
Your Grandma is blessed to have a dear grand-daughter like you. But you shouldn't have to go through an ordeal like that. I have had some experience with tracheostomies and there should be a closer emergency facility. I'm assuming you are in the States?
Anyway you are a brave girl. Well done!

Madame Courtney Whiny Complainy Pants, Esq. said...
There's a comedian, Brian Regan, who has a bit about how hospitals should have valet parking. He'd be pleased to know that one exists out there.
Glad you made it through the snow. Hope Grandma's ok. Here via Michele.

Paul said...
Holy cow!
Springfield?
Missouri?
That's the kinda weather we had here in Pancake Flats, which is only a few hours from Springfield. It's Tuesday. We got 5 - 8 inches of snow last night. No fun on the roads this morning, but there's been so much wind today that the roads are almost dry. Go figure. It's brutally cold!!! Where's my coffee???
I'm glad you're home safe with your Champs. God bless.

The Strength to Endure...

Yesterday, GiBee at Kisses of Sunshine related that she had visited Shalee's Diner. Shalee wrote a great post called "I Can Do All Things Through Christ". Shalee shared her month without coffee and challenged the rest of us to share how God has given us the strength to endure through... whatever ... and then to go to her blog and let everyone know we've posted. GiBee took the challenge and talked about her walk through infertility and the enlightenment she received at the end of the path.

Seemed like a good idea to me, so now I am accepting the challenge.

I have so many stories that I could share of God's mercy in helping me do "all things through Him who strengthens me". In hindsight, He got me through a painful, sometimes horrible, childhood without deep scars and with the understanding I need to forgive and, most of all, to not blame God for all that happened (just look at all the people shaking their fist at God because something devastating happened in their lives and you'll understand that this grace was a true gift to me).

I could share a lot of stories, but the one I will share tonight is how He gave me the strength to endure the longest - and possibly most misguided - wait of my life.

When I was a young child, I dreamed of becoming a wife and mother. Although I thought of careers (a journalist, medical examiner, teacher), the only skills I really pursued were cooking, cleaning, sewing and learning to run a house. I did this subconsciously for years and then, in my teens, fully acknowledged to myself that I really wanted, more than anything, to be a wife. At the age of 14, I was a Baptist and a new Christian. Our church held a missionary week event, where our pastor challenged us to get before God and find out what He wanted us to do - to discover our "calling". Now, I am sure he expected most of us to step forward to become a missionary or to serve the church in its missionary support, but I came away with something else. By the end of the week, I was convinced that God planned for me to become a pastor's wife.

No, I don't remember the particulars of that revelation.

Or how I came to the stunning conclusion.

But I knew it had to be a pastor for me.

From that time on, the only guys who I would even allow myself to become attracted to were those who were outgoing, evangelistic and who appeared that they might have "the call" upon them. I rarely dated. Part of this was because I was overweight and dumpy. However, the bigger part was because the guys were too "regular". My heart was reserved for only those guys who acknowledged a call of God on their life. The few times I let my guard down, I was pretty badly hurt and used, so that strengthened my resolve even more. I determined that I wouldn't date any man who wasn't clearly on the path, because every date that didn't lead to a commitment was just "practice for a broken heart".

From the time I was 18, I prayed constantly (ok, I probably whined more than I prayed) that God would bring me my pastor, already. Then something interesting happened. In my early 20's, I was very badly hurt by two pastors at my (independent charismatic, not Baptist) church. The rejection was cunning, complete and devastating. Not so much that I still didn't believe I was to be a pastor's wife, but enough that I no longer felt worthy to be anyone's treasured and respected wife. I was convinced that the man I married would be unfaithful, hurtful and a horrible husband, regardless of his life's calling. Not because he would be so horrible, but because I deserved so little.

But the desire to be married - and a pastor's wife - stayed with me. Kinda like an alcoholic's need for that next drink, I think.

In the aftermath of the season I'd been through, I attended a missionary college. Not to go be a missionary and not to find a husband, but just to refocus on God. While there, I met a guy who clearly had the pastor's call on his life - as well as the most beautiful blue eyes I'd ever seen. I fell hard. He wasn't the one, though, and gave me a lot of flack once he realized how I felt. Even though he so clearly didn't want me, it took me four years to get over him - I was convinced that he was "my pastor" and that God only needed to open his eyes and we'd finally walk down the aisle. Once I got over him, I spent the next couple of years wanting to be married, but fearing most guys and being the "bodyguard" for all my cute friends when we went out.

Finally, I had enough. At the age of 32, I laid it all down. Actually, I threw it down. I might have even been a bit rebellious about it - but I don't think so. I just decided that I could no longer stick to something that I thought I had heard 18 years earlier. I figured that either:

1. I had been right all along and God would bring the pastor in His own time whether I fretted about it or not.
or
2. I was wrong all along and God was just waiting for me to get over my bad self and let Him do His thing.

Guess which one it was?

Yeup. Number two.

Still convinced that I didn't really deserve a good man or a good marriage and deciding that a sheltered heart is just as bad as a broken one, I decided to quit having an agenda and a list of criteria and just have some fun. I spruced up. I went on-line and talked to people. I joined a bulletin board discussion from my local newspaper and went to meet groups of people to discuss beer.

I dated.

Without evaluating the gentleman's "calling".

I even went out with a divorced guy, one or two non-Christians and a bee keeper from Fargo named Arthur (yes, he was a geek). None of them were planning to be pastors. I didn't plan to marry any of them and I did not evaluate their life's work in the course of one evening.

And you know what I found out? Going out on a date - a single night out with a nice man - is a great way to find out that perhaps you are not so unworthy, so ugly and so awful as you thought. For the first time in years, I felt free, pretty and even a bit vivacious. I've always been outgoing, but this was the first time I ever felt that I could just be myself around the opposite sex.

In short, I dropped it all at God's feet and went for a walk.

And one month later, literally, I met Champs.

No, he is NOT a pastor - and he never will be, thank God. But he has a kinder and more unselfish heart than ANY pastor I have ever met. He is quiet where I am loud. He is sweet and strong and faithful. He treats me like a queen and would never betray me as I have seen so many other spouses do. And he has blown to smithereens my old fear that I was doomed to have as abusive a marriage as my parents and as bad as some of the others I had witnessed.

Looking back, I realize that I would have made a horrible wife when I was younger; I had to get past the pain of betrayal and the fear of commitment. So, did God help me endure? You bet He did. And He waited for me to lay down my agenda and let Him get on with His. If I hadn't let go of my own plans and misguided interpretation of His will, I really think that God would not have brought Champs to me when He did, simply because I wouldn't have looked at him and seen what I see now. I would have discounted him, which would have been my own tragedy.

In the long run, I am a better wife for the wait... And I am stronger, too.

So, yes, I can do all things through God who strengthens me... Even lay aside my own misguided tenacity.

(P.S. The reward for waiting? Well, in addition to my wonderful husband, there is also our little 6 year-old pixie, Sweet Girl. That smile of hers is reward enough!)



Here are some comments from this post:
srp said...
What an inspiring post. My brother sang a song in church about Moses. Moses thought he couldn't lead, couldn't speak, couldn't do anything God asked. God told him to take his staff and throw it on the ground. When he did God changed it into a serpent. Moses realized that with God's power behind him, he could do anything. We have to do the same thing.
I believe the last stanza of the song goes something like this:
What do you hold in your hand today?
To what or to whom are you bound?
God waits to show you the way.
Give it up.
Let it go.
Throw it down.

Brony said...
What a wonderful story of growth and discovery.
It is funny, I don't normally write about God or religion, but tonight I to found myself talking about the way God works.
I've never really thought of myself as religious, more spiritual, but the more I listen to myself the more I hear myself say words like blessings or blessed or God has or God did or God is... I think part of it was that I had to stop blaming God and start accepted who I am. See that my illnesses are not a burden, but a gift.

Geekwif said...
Ah, yes, I remember the beekeeper from Fargo. Now there's something to be endured! :)
Great post. Thanks for sharing.

Jeana said...
Wow, you had me completely absorbed. Thanks for writing about this. Excellent, excellent point. "I was wrong."

Shalee said...
I am shaking my head with a slight smile only because I relate so well with coming to God with my agenda. Too often do I present things to God with my strings attached, not really giving God the "authority" to be sovereign over all (including me). You totally nailed it with, "In short, I dropped it all at God's feet and went for a walk." I bet you had the most refreshing, eye-opening, wonderful walk all your life. I'm thrilled that you opened your heart to God's will, saw your worth and let Him mold you into the woman you are today. The added bonus of a precious daughter is like the honey from the honeycomb!
Thank you for sharing one of your stories of when God gave you the strength to endure.

Susan said...
Oh my Gosh....you have no idea (wait, I bet you do) how much this touched me. At the end of your post, it was like DUH, give it to God.
I wish I was there to hug you and tell you thank you for sharing this. I felt like you wrote this just for me! ((((HUGS))))

The Last Heartbeat

My grandmother, who I loved more than anyone can imagine, passed away of pancreatic cancer when I was 17; one week before Christmas. My mom and my aunt were with her when she passed. Mom told me later that she laid her hand on Grandma's chest and felt Grandma's last heartbeat. She described it as incredibly peaceful as Grandma's pain and suffering were over.

The image has never left me and 23 years later I still feel the impact. Most people I know find it comforting to lay their head on someone's chest and hear the strong heartbeat of their loved one. Not me. When I lay my head on my husband's chest, it isn't long before I begin to think of the last heartbeat. I don't want to hear it. I don't want to feel it. So I move my head to the crook of his arm and rest my ear on his shoulder. His shoulder can't pull any surprises on me, right?

I have no fear of death in terms of what will happen to me after I die; Jesus is my Lord and I am confident of His promise of Heaven. I have to admit, though, that the process of getting there does scare me a bit. The thought of my husband or daughter dying scares the bejeebers out of me. So much so that my best friend, Geekwif, convinced me that I needed to stop watching "ER". All those emergency room scenes had me completely worked up over my family!

I wonder what my life would be like without the assurance of Heaven? Without the bone-deep awareness of God's grace? My niece is right; life is short - the promise of each heartbeat fleeting. How wonderful that we can look beyond our last heartbeat on earth... to our first in Heaven.

Many Crowns

Happy Resurrection Sunday!

I always look to Easter to be a great reason to get a new dress, and this year was no different. Geekwif and I went out shopping yesterday and I bought new shoes, a new skirt and top and a new dress, as well as accessories to go with the dress I had already bought for Easter. All in all, it was so much fun to go shopping and to plan all the things I wanted to do to make me and Sweet Girl look cute for the big day.

This morning I did all I needed to do; curling irons, make-up, nail polish (for me and the girl), new shoes, hat for the Sweet Girl, etc. Right on time we tumbled out of the house resplendent and ready for the service. I'll admit, the morning was a study in stylish narcissism. Sweet Girl was set to take part in her children's church program and I was ready to sing on the worship band choir.

When we got to church, though, I had the happy and thoroughly welcome reminder that it is not all about me; it is all about HIM. Worship opened with the classic hymn "Crown Him with Many Crowns" and then the children did a processional to the song "Agnus Dei" while the worship band sang. This littlest children (of which Sweet Girl was a part) had "wings" attached to their Easter finery and danced like angels. The older children waved flags and banners. At the front of the church there was a red chair set to represent the throne of God. One girl danced around with a crown of thorns while a boy danced with a royal crown of jewels. Both crowns ended up at the throne.

The poignancy of the moment almost made me forget to sing. How many times through the years have I blithely sung "Crown Him with Many Crowns" and not thought about what those crowns were? I have long assumed it meant the crowns we earn on this earth to throw at His feet. It was different for me to think about the song in terms of the crowns that He already had.

King of the Jews.

Son of God.

Son of man.

The Great I Am.

My five year-old and all the others danced on unaware of the new facet of praise they had given me. But forever more, when I see her twirling I will think of her wings, the crowns, the throne and the absolute wonder of the all powerful King who laid down his crown of jewels to wear a crown of thorns - for me and for you. As we sang in worship, "The darling of Heaven crucified, Worthy is the Lamb!"

He is Risen! He Is Risen Indeed!

As (almost) always, read on for my question of the day...

Sweet Girl Testimony

First, I want to thank everyone for your prayers and happy thoughts on Sweet Girl's behalf. She's feeling a lot better and I can tell you why. OK, this story is overdue. Consider me cautious, or just new at this, but here goes.

I have been a Christian since I was 14 years old. I can give you a wonderful testimony of God's grace, forgiveness and mercy in my life. The things He saved me from; the gifts He's given me; the love I have found to replace years of hurt are enough to convince anyone of the reality of Salvation. I have no questions - no qualms.

Physical healing, however, has always been a different matter for me. I know that God heals. I know that miracles occur. I've always had a hard time, however, believing that they can and would occur for me or my family. I'm not sure why. I have diabetes and I know the origins of it are both genetic (both my parents and 3 of my parent's 4 children are diabetics) and the result of my overeating. I've had a hard time asking God to heal me of the diabetes. Don't get me wrong; I would love to be healed. I just have a hard time having the faith to see it happen.

So, back to Sweet Girl. As you know, in the space of three weeks she had Strep Throat, Flu and Mono. Last Saturday (March 18), was the worst day of all. She had a fever around 102 and slept for two or three hours straight on the couch while I was cleaning. We had a dinner party that night with Geekwif, The Geek and two other couples. One couple is an associate pastor and his wife and the other couple are the visitation pastors at our church. We had invited them two weeks earlier for the dinner party, and on Friday I called them all to let them know that Sweet Girl was sick and to give them the chance to back out. Since Mono is actually pretty difficult to pass on, they all decided to come over. I told Sweet Girl that, if she wanted, our guests would be happy to pray for her and ask God to make her well.

After a nice dinner, Sweet Girl (who hardly touched her plate) asked to be put to bed, but said she wanted to be prayed for first. We all gathered around her and prayed. Margaret (the Associate Pastor's wife) brought out some anointing oil and anointed her. We all asked God to heal our girl. I asked Sweet Girl if she believed that God would heal her and she said yes. After a round of hugs, we put her to bed.

Now, I have asked Him repeatedly to heal her throughout this streak of sickness. Each night before she went to bed and over and over again through the day, I asked Him to heal her. And for three weeks she was sick. The next day, however, she woke up and the fever was gone. We didn't go to church; she was still coughing and tired, but the fever broke - and never came back. She took only a short 30 minute nap.

On Monday I kept her home from school. The coughing stopped and she was bright, alert, and ready to go. Her school said she could return 24 hours after the fever was gone. I had to send her to school on Tuesday; she was bouncing off the walls on Monday. I tried to get her to take a nap on Monday; but no go. I expected her to come home from school on Tuesday just beat. She was a little tired, but not unusually so.

On Wednesday, it was complete; I got my Sweet Girl back. I took her to Chipotle's for dinner. She ate a cheese and bean quesadilla, a half a cheese quesadilla, half a side order of grilled chicken and a ton of chips and guacamole! And then asked me to take her home and give her ice cream. She ate more in one meal than she had eaten in the last three days combined, and it wasn't mac and cheese or a chicken mcnugget!

It took three days for her healing to be complete. But she was healed. Mono is supposed to run for 4 to 6 weeks, yet she has been in school and running full strength since last Tuesday. I have an appointment to have her checked on March 31; that's how long the pediatrician expected it to be around. And yet, I am 100% certain that when they test her, she won't have Mono any longer.

I am thrilled that Sweet Girl was healed. I want to shout it from the rooftops. I do wonder, though, what the key was. Why was it that 8 adults were able to successfully pray for healing when I couldn't do it alone? Going to my bible, I find that it says to call the elders together to anoint the sick and pray and they'll be healed. That's what we did, so perhaps that was the key. I asked her if she believed she could be healed and she said yes; maybe her faith that evening was the key.

I may never know what the key was but I do know that Sweet Girl was healed by a loving God, just as surly as I was saved 26 years ago. Thank you, Lord.

He Really Knew What He was Doing.

I planned a busy, productive weekend for our family. We were going to get the basement cleaned, the garage cleaned, and all the paperwork up to speed. So much for the best laid plans of Blond Girl, the supermom. We didn't get to any of it, and here's why:

On Friday, I took Sweet Girl to her 5-year checkup with her pediatrician. I did all the stuff they asked; fill out the forms, have Sweet Girl draw a picture, help her pee in a cup, check her hearing, check her sight. Check her height, check her weight, stand up, sit down, fight. fight. fight. The entire appointment took 2.5 hours, during which I learned that she is 41 inches tall and 34.5 pounds, putting her in the 25th percentile for height and weight (that's why I always say she's a little peanut).

The highlight of the appointment was the vaccination. Her pediatrician was compelled, for some reason, to tell Sweet Girl about the shots a full half hour before she got them. Now, I'm all for being honest to a child, but not brutally so. Since both Grandma Bina and I are diabetic, Sweet Girl gets to see plenty of shots. She knows what they are. I spent the next half hour trying to calm her down. She was distracted through the rest of the tests, near tears and continually telling me how scared she was of the shots to come. I repeatedly told her that they would hurt a little, but only for a moment and not to worry about it. Fat lot of good that did. (Side note, I really like her pediatrician, but I may need to give her some feedback about how she approaches the shot issue. Yes, warn the child. Right before the needle gets visible, and not sooner. Why stress them out for half an hour? But I digress.) So she got the shots - 2 of them and now she's OK to go to kindergarten. But they told me at the office that the shots could make her feverish and tired for the next couple of days.

Fast forward to Saturday, when all the work was to commence: Champs eye started giving him trouble. You may remember that he has had a corneal transplant in both eyes. His vision went horribly blurry on Friday and was no better on Saturday. So, we went to see one of the doctors at his eye clinic. The doctor came in special just to check his eyes. It doesn't appear to be rejection or infection, but possibly some toxic overload from all the drops he puts in his eyes. So, the hubby had next to no reliable vision for getting stuff done. We went to Target for a new prescription then went home. Sweet Girl was sleeping when we got home. At 5, she rarely ever naps anymore, but she was down for the count. So, we took a nap, too.

See, it's hot in Minnesota. Well, if radar is to be believed, its hot everywhere, but it is really hot here. It reached 97 degrees with unbelievable humidity both yesterday and today. When it's this hot, you can't really go outside. You can barely function. A nap seemed to make good sense to both of us. We didn't get up until nearly 5:30, when I finally started the laundry. I got it half done and the family watched "The Incredibles".

So, yesterday was a total wash. Today wasn't much better. We went to church and when we got home, Sweet Girl was pooped again. Her arm is one big red hot welt from the vaccination and she was like a damp rag. So, I had her go to lay down with a book and Champs and I took a nap as well. 45 minutes later, Sweet Girl came into our room and crawled into bed next to me. I told her to go to sleep. Miracle of miracles, she did, her warm little body pressed up against me.

I eventually dozed off for awhile, but soon I was awake again. Here I was; the work wasn't done, the air conditioning wasn't cooling the house (I'm pretty sure it's dead) and I had my husband on my left and my daughter on my right. I was trapped between them, hot and mildly frustrated that nothing was getting done or was likely to get done.

And then it hit me. Suddenly my mind went back ten years. I remembered being alone and despairing that I would never find anyone. I remembered the unrequited love that I held for one of my college friends and how I was never good enough for him. I remembered how my dad treated my mom like crap for years and years and I always figured that if I did find someone, I would end up with the same.

Then I looked to my left and saw this man who, for 7 years, has treated me like a queen. He may not be a millionaire, but he understands the finer points of love. Then I looked to my right and saw this beautiful little blond girl, who loves me and whose favorite pastime this week has been "attack kisses".

Suddenly, my heart welled up within me in absolute gratitude. "Thank you, Father, for bringing me this wonderful man. And thank you for giving us this beautiful child. I can't believe they are mine to love. Thank you."

And it didn't matter that the air conditioning is dying. It didn't matter that money is tight and the paperwork is still waiting to be done. It didn't matter that my basement is still a mess. What mattered is that God, in his infinite wisdom and love, saw what I needed all those years and sent me Champs and gave us Sweet Girl.

He really knew what He was doing.