Four Little Toms and a Mom

Proverbs 31 Ministries blogpost: Our Stories so Uniquely the Same

2012-01-27T11:49:00.000-05:00

The day of the funeral we wore that dress we wish we could forget about. Some of us wore stylish dresses, as though our husbands would be comforted in Heaven if we tried our best to not look as awful as we felt. Some of us wore the simplest of black dresses—after all, the occasion wasn’t happy—why attract attention to ourselves? Some of us hate black and purposely chose navy blue. Some of us borrowed dresses from our sisters, and then asked them to take it back and never show it to us again. Why use our own dress, which would sit in the closet as a constant reminder?

All of us cried. We cried heavy, even howled—never holding back—drowning in wet tissues for hours on our sisters’ laps. We cried soft whimpers when no one was looking. We cried silent tears—staring blankly at the empty world we faced without them. We didn’t cry at all at first, and even wondered if everyone thought we didn’t love our husbands. Of course we did—more than life itself—it’s just that we’re not criers—or so we thought. In private, it all came loose. We drowned our tears in wine until a friend plucked us up and sat with us so we wouldn’t drink alone. We cried in waves, like a roller coaster—fine one minute, calm, even kind of detached about it as we sorted through things in the house—wondering why on earth we’ve been given this strange peace, until the wave crashed and then boom—we dissolved into inconsolable tears.

We got through that first month. Some of us were thrust into crisis mode—”He had a business with customers banging at the door—who else but the widow would be expected to close up shop?” Some of us fought with the insurance company—”what do you mean investigation? I thought our life insurance was secure!” Some of us couldn’t stay in our homes—without him the rent couldn’t be paid. Many of us refused to think about it. The kids were so confused—how could we even have a moment to think about ourselves with our kids asking so many questions? Some of us got busy—cleaning, trying to make order somewhere even with the chaos in our hearts.

Then we had to deal with his belongings, unless we expected to live with the constant evidence someone should still be there. We had friends sort through his belongings for us—bagging up his clothes and taking them to Goodwill right away. We wouldn’t let anyone touch his belongings. Their closets became unbearable to touch, a sort of shrine to their existence in our lives. We organized his belongings into nice little boxes and moved them into the attic. Hopefully we can eventually have the courage to reopen them and decide what to do with it all. We left certain belongings untouched. That receipt from Blockbuster he taped onto the side of the refrigerator stayed there for years. Even visitors seemed to know it would be sacrilegious to remove it.

We announced to everyone we would never remarry. We left half of the headstone blank—certain we’d want to be rested next to him forever. We dedicated the entire headstone to him, recognizing twenty-seven is too young to assume there will never be another. Some of us admitted to ourselves we’d want to remarry—sooner than later. Some of us knew this would be it, that kind of love won’t repeat itself in our lives. We wore our wedding rings for two years straight. We wore our wedding rings for six months. We’re still wearing our wedding rings after twenty years. We kept our rings on for the first year, then added them to chains around our necks, and then finally stopped wearing them altogether. We took some of the life insurance money and bought for ourselves beautiful diamond rings because we knew they always wanted to give us them and never got around to it in their lifetimes. We wore their wedding bands on our thumbs. We wore their bands on necklace chains. We hung their wedding bands on our vanity mirrors. We buried them with their bands on their hands. We buried them with our wedding rings placed in their hands. We saved both rings for our children.

The aching for a man started. Some of us felt vulnerable right away. Some of us felt it within a few months. Some of us still don’t feel it. Some of us were ashamed of the impure thoughts we had for the men we see each day at our churches or behind the counters at Starbucks. Some of us knew that was normal and went home and cried about our husbands. Some of us confused it for love and were taken advantage of.

We tried counseling. We loved it—we were finally able to get why we loved him so much and yet in some ways felt relieved not to have the same arguments repeated. We hated counseling—felt like we had a better grip on loss than the trained counselor. We dragged our children to counselors against their will, and were later glad we did—what would have happened with that grumpy teenager had we not gotten him to vent? We dragged our children to counselors and found out dragging didn’t work at all—the teenager only dug his heels in. We brought our children to a counselor who won their trust and got them on a healthy road of grieving right away. We got our kids to a counselor just in time. We got our kids to a counselor too late—but is it ever too late? We started counseling and thought we didn’t need it anymore and found ourselves later crawling back when life without our husbands got really rough.

We blamed God. We didn’t blame God, but had a handle on how to just trust Him and accept. Maybe we’d already been through some pretty rough blows in life and knew bad things just happen and in the end it all fits into some part of His will. We didn’t blame Him at first, but then life got harder. The bills mounted. The kids got squirrely. We got lonely. We’re still learning how to stop blaming God. We know we don’t really blame Him, we’re just plain mad.

We took on our husbands’ legacies. Some of us opened that coffee shop he always dreamed of starting, only to find it was too overwhelming to handle without him. Some of us started that summer camp he dreamed about on the property he purchased a year before the accident. What purpose it gave me. I can’t imagine I’d have survived without something to focus on! We raised our stepchildren that now had no biological parent to raise them. We struggled with a stepchild’s loyalty issues—loved by us, but still feeling like an orphan.

We started over. Some of us started new careers. Some of us started to date. Some of us started new marriages and families. Some of us started sinking further into loneliness, refusing to start over. Some of us needed more time for grieving than others. Some of us wondered at others of us who move on too quickly for our comfort. Some of us wondered at others of us who we wanted to see moving on and living life more.

But all of us do… live life more. Whether it’s through grieving more deeply or actively starting life more quickly, we live life more. Our tragedies are parallel and the ripples from our tragedies go in all different directions. And somehow, always lead to redemption.

Thank you, sisters, for continuing to share your stories with us. I marvel at how strong each of you are, and how the Lord has taken the horrible loss in your lives to transform you and glorify Him.

Proverbs 31 Ministries blogpost: Consider that Terrible Struggle Joy?

2012-01-02T06:05:00.000-05:00

Consider that Terrible Struggle Joy?

by A WIDOW'S MIGHT on DECEMBER 30, 2011

By Kitty Hinkle

Isn’t it amazing, dear sisters who share in loss as I do, that just as I was about to post the following message for you on Tuesday, the Lord arranged for a huge wave of Daddy sadness to overshadow my home and bring me the kinds of tears of grief I had a reader inspire me to write about. Now that the cloud has passed for now, I’ve returned, as promised, to post what I originally wrote, and I’m amazed. The experience this week only heightened my appreciation for James’s words in the first chapter of his book about considering all your struggles to be joy. If you’re not feeling what I’m describing, be patient, and bear with me as I try to put into words what only God can reveal through His love.

Here is my posting that was meant for earlier this week:

So many times our postings here on A Widow’s Might are focused on encouragement.

So many times, we want to share with you how to move forward, how to put your trust in the Lord, and how to take the lemons that widowhood has left for you and make lemonade—and maybe even something better than lemonade. Maybe even a pineapple lemon-drop smoothie!

But I can remember moments, especially in that first year after losing Tom, when that advice was the last thing I wanted to hear. Yesterday I chatted with a widow who spent her first Christmas alone after losing her husband just five months ago.

This blessed sister wondered if the five of us writing these posts ever get angry with God, or are we just filled with God’s euphoria all the time. I want to share something she said, because it reminded me of something I once found myself saying. “I have seen many graces that He has given me, but I wouldn’t need those graces if He hadn’t chosen to allow this in the first place. His love for me is of no comfort to me right now because it seems … He gets to do whatever it is He wants with my life and I am still suppose to take comfort in His love. So I am guessing this means that I am in the anger phase of my grief journey!”

She tells me she recognizes this anger will pass, but I so get being fed up with encouragement when you’re just not ready for it—not just yet. You just want to be mad.

Truth is, sisters, yes, each one of us had and continue to have our moments when we cry out in pain, in anger, in self pity.

My moments like this came, at first, in waves—like a roller coaster. One moment I’d feel this surreal peace, like God had me totally in His grip, and the next moment the entire loss would come crashing in on me like a tidal wave. The night Tom died, I felt a surreal lifting from the Lord—like, even though I lost the best friend and love of my life, Someone was supernaturally holding me, cradling me, carrying me. But just hours later, I found myself looking at his chair in the living room in disbelief, remembering how earlier that day he sat there, grinning at me. “He was just here,” I thought. I found myself grabbing at the empty space where he sat with my fist, over and over, until I exploded in tears.

And then on that first Christmas without him, I found myself too busy with my four boys to get to that miserably lonely point. Friends and family surrounded me, and I still felt that glow of being loved by my husband—still felt married. But just two days later, as I finally cleaned out his office, turning paper after paper over, sorting, what memory to toss, what memory to savor. I found little notes I had written to him, early in the summer, weighing the merits of which vacation we’d take in the fall. Little did I know as I had scribbled those thoughts, he’d be gone before we could ever take that vacation. I sobbed my eyes out, wondering will it ever be possible to stop? Wine didn’t dull the pain, sleep fled from me, and I became determined to finish the painful sorting job even as the sun started to climb over the horizon.

Then a year to the very date of his death, I can tell you about the friends and family that gathered around to help the boys celebrate the memory of their father Tom-style, with a joyful celebration. The boys enjoyed it—it was beautifully perfect. But that same moment, as dozens smiled and prayed and encouraged with words, cards, letters, and mementos, I was dying inside. I wanted everyone to just go away. I wanted to be alone. I hated the attention—I hated that all I had was a memory to celebrate, not the husband that cradled me in his arms night after night. I left those dozens of cards people gave me unopened. Tucked them away in a box. That was three years ago and I’ve yet to open even one of them. I just wanted to forget that horrible night where we had to celebrate the memory of someone I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.

And even a year ago, as I began to date, I can tell you about the blessings the Lord has given me in introducing me to kind fellows, ones with integrity and genuine intentions for me. But I can also tell you of nightmares I had of an unknown stranger taking me to a scary unknown, and slightly waking to the feeling of my husband’s arms tightly wrapped around me in my bed, only to find that even that was a dream, and that I’m still, indeed, alone. Then sobbing—why do I have to start over when the arms that held me were more than enough for me—they were safe, and I was sure.

So I wanted to share with you those painful moments—because if you’re in that early phase of shock, anger, and desperate loneliness, I want you to know that you’re not alone. If you’re angry, you’re probably not really blaming God and thinking He’s laughing at you and hurling death into your life to watch you squirm. But you’re still angry at Him.

And if you’re still angry at Him, you’re probably mad because you know He’s all-powerful, and He could have stopped it. He could have stopped the car wreck, or the heart attack or the cancer cells. But He didn’t. And now you have to be happy with the comfort He gives you? Arrrgh!!!

So why didn’t I cave to those feelings, and why won’t you?

Because you have to believe, somewhere deep within you, that there is a purpose to allowing pain in our lives. I love what my pastor told us last week when he spoke on this exact topic. “We all have had that moment in life when we’re knocked off that wide road in life. The road that nearly everyone travels. The road of life with family, career, health, wealth. All the stuff that even if we don’t have it all, we have some of it, and enough to at least still have the hopes and dreams to getting it all. And the whole world is walking that road with you, and you feel like you’re part of it all—until it happens. Divorce, loss, sickness—and you’re knocked off the wide road and down onto the road less traveled.”

And you sit there on the road less traveled. You’re angry, sad, lonely. And you might stay that way, but if you get past that, you begin look around and really notice God more. You’re comforted by Him and suddenly you see Him like you’ve never seen Him before. And you notice fewer people are on this road less traveled. That’s because many people don’t stay there. It’s so uncomfortable at first that rather than staying and sorting it out in their grief, they climb back onto the wide road before they get a chance to see how beautiful the road less traveled is.

But I encourage you—look around while you’re in that place. Bear with the grief and trust. You’ll begin seeing it. I promise. You begin seeing the beauty of this road. And that beauty, my sisters, is the euphoria that you hear us writing about. When you choose to walk the road less traveled, He gets so fresh in your hearts that you feel him, right there—through it all, and nothing the world has to offer, even the security of a husband, replaces feeling the love of God all around you, of feeling of Him directing you next steps.

I am amazed ladies, as I’ve suffered with crying along with my children this week as they have relived the pain of losing Dad, that I felt such a surge of God’s peace all through the late nights comforting and talking with them. Yes, it’s euphoria. It’s as James says, “Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds” (James 1:2). Every tear is a step towards healing, so yes, I consider even the tears, joy, for as James says, you consider it joy: “because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance.”

Blessings for all that God has to offer you in the coming year.

{ 15 comments… read them below or add one }

Terri December 30, 2011 at 11:25 pm: Thank you so much for your words today. I can relate to so much of what you have shared. So thankful to have found a place I can come and feel like I belong…where I don’t feel different…where there are those who know what I’ve been through. I have found myself sitting at my computer reading different posts and saying to myself (sometimes out loud) “What! You too? I thought I was the only one”. Thank you, ladies, for saying “yes” when God called you to this ministry. Thank you for sharing your experiences and giving us words of encouragement. May God richly bless all of you in 2012!
Yvette December 31, 2011 at 3:26 am: Thank you, thank you, thank you! I read your post through tears streaming from my eyes! I am not crazy! I am not “wrong” for feeling this way! I am not alone! The last discovery was the best: I am not alone! This journey on the road less traveled is hard and very scary at times, but I have hope! I know that God is on this road with me, in fact, He is carrying me, but you, my sister have given me hope: it will be ok! Thank you! Thank you for allowing God to use you, because today, your words were EXACTLY what I needed to hear! God is good!!! His faithfulness astonishes me!
Happy New Year!!!
Betty December 31, 2011 at 9:59 am: Well done Kitty!
What a beautiful discription of ALL the apsects of this most horrible, sacred journey of Widowhood. You touched on each aspect and as you did you touched our wounds. You validated where we are on this scary journey but at the same time gave us hope as to where this journey can take us.
Thank you for the time you took to chat with me and for revealing your “scars” to bring about hope!
Pat December 31, 2011 at 11:38 am: Dear Kitty, Another Christmas has come and gone. I approach the ninth anniversary of my husband’s death. I held my faith so near for so many years, and yes, there have been blessings. But it has begun to look like God is asking me to spend the rest of my life alone, and I now live daily with resentment that “He gets to do whatever it is He wants with my life and I am still suppose to take comfort in His love”. God’s “love” feels like a prison cell. I cannot see the beauty of this road at all. I do not even pray about it any longer, because I cannot change God’s will. So I ask all of you to please, please pray for me. I really want 2012 to be different. Somehow. Thank you so very much.
karen seals December 31, 2011 at 11:38 am: What a way to begin my day to read your article. All I can say is–
you are ‘right one’. My husband died in November 2009. My favorite attibute of God is His Sovereignty & even in pain, I was able to repeat to myself over & over again He Is Sovereign. This ‘seemed’ to ease my pain & enabled me to continue to put one foot in front of the other. Knowing & believing this about God, I must say that I was shocked when I realized that I was mad at Him. What? Mad at Sovereign God?
How could I? It was real & it was easy to be mad. In His Grace, He
assured me that He already knew how mad I was & that He was big
enough to handle this. He also helped me not to ‘camp’ at being mad
but to move on until I found myself mad AGAIN.
I am praising Him for connecting me to this site & look forward to reading every article.
Blessings as you continue to be used by Him.
Linda December 31, 2011 at 12:08 pm: Thank You, you said it all. Thank You xx
Candy December 31, 2011 at 12:33 pm: I, too, became a widow in 2009 and still wonder “why pray when God is just going to do what He wants to regardless”. I’ve gone from being angry at God to feeling more neutral right now. I still love Him and I know that I have no one without Him. I just don’t know how to take God at this point. I totally understand the “He gets to do whatever it is He wants with my life and I am still suppose to take comfort in His love”.
This was my 3rd Christmas without my husband and was the hardest one so far. That surprised me as I thought it would be a little easier. I’ve decided that there is no rhyme or reason to this grief journey and to not have any expectations for how I think I am going to feel about certain things.
Thank you for sharing your heart.
Sylvia December 31, 2011 at 2:54 pm: My husband, Henry, died October 22nd of this year. He was diagnosed with CLL (cancer) 5 1/2 years ago. Not to worry they said, this is the slowest cancer there is. 2 years later, we are doing chemo to put it at bay. No side effects from the chemo! Praise God. Chemo is over and my husband didn’t get sick not one day. He not only didn’t lose his hair, he grew some new hair. God is good. Understand that I had so much peace through this whole process. I knew that I knew God had his hand on my husband. A year later… platelets aren’t looking so good. Lets do some more tests. Results came back that the chemo he had from the first cancer had given him a secondary cancer. This one isn’t so good. It’s rare that chemo will give a secondary cancer but it did. So at this point the CLL is under control but he was diagnosed with MDS (which will turn into lukemia) He needs a bone marrow transplant. Okay God, we know that you have a plan. We are believeing in your promises. Our family, our church, our friends… we are all believing. The prognosis for AML is about 2 to 5 years if no match is found for the transplant. No match was found. Henry was what they called a “mutt”. He was mixed races. Hispanic, Irish and Philipino. We honestly believed this was all part of God’s plan. We believed with all of our hearts that the promises we were reading in Gods word were real. They were for everyone. We believed that at that “midnight hour” God would reach down and give Henry new blood and he would be healed. A dr had told Henry that if God healed him she would convert and tell her patients all about it. That was 2 days before he died.
Am I angry? You bet your life I’m angry. I too have come to the conclusion, why pray? God does what ever God decides to do. Those promises are for the ones that God decides, for what ever reason, are worth the time. My husband was a humble, loving and Godly man. He spent his time playing beautiful music for God. He deserved more. He should still be here. That’s my opinion not Gods.
I have no clue why some people are healed and some aren’t. I have actually thought about closing my eyes and completely walking away from my faith. (Or my lack of faith). In the depths of my heart, I know God is real. So here I am… but I don’t trust Him anymore. I don’t know how to get that back. I can pretend that it’s all okay. God has a plan and He knows best. But it isn’t okay. I want my husband back. My kids want their dad back. It doesn’t soothe my soul knowing that “someday we will be together again”. That doesn’t help me today. I don’t want to pray… I to ask “why”? Why should I pray. In the end it’s God’s choice on who he heals and who he doesn’t. I really don’t know where to go from here.
Betty December 31, 2011 at 6:53 pm: My Dear Sylvia,
I am so very sorry about your sweet Henry! What an awful roller coaster ride you endured through his illness.
Thank you for having the courage to admit where you are with your faith and your emotions.
You can trust what you know in the depths of your heart, but I understand that all the outward appearances don’t support that right now. I so get what you are talking about because I am “the reader” that Kitty was referring to in her post asking about the anger. I, like you, know that God is real but some where between knowing that He died for my sins because He loved us and because of that my Bob is in heaven waiting for me some day; there is a whole lot of hurt, sorrow and grief to deal with and where does God fit into all the between stuff.
I keep reminding myself that it is a relationship with God that I am in and just like my relationship with my husband there were times when he disappointed me and made me angry but the relationship was still there. I keep telling God,” One of us must have the wrong definition of Who are you and I am just guessing here but I assume it must be me. So before I can trust You again I need to know Who You are and only You can show me that.” “Wrestling” with God is okay and sometimes that is the most “intimate” of gestures. Have you ever seen high school wrestling and the “positions” they get into and the “closeness” they share at those moments. I am a visual person so that helps me to “see” it differently. These are just the observations that have helped me in small ways to cope. I wish I had the “answers” for all of us in our pain but just wanted you to know that I appreciate your honesty. Your anger is real and deserves to be acknowledged. Sometimes expressing it helps it to lose it’s power over us and then we can move beyond it. I pray that for us both and anyone else who struggles with that. Thanks for reading my “ramblings”.
Sylvia December 31, 2011 at 8:33 pm: Thank you Betty for writing. I’m feeling a bit better about the whole thing. Still angry, but what you said makes since. Now, I think I’ll “wait”. Wait and see what God’s next move is. I feel like this now… Who knows how I’ll feel in an hour. Thank you again.
Katie January 1, 2012 at 12:42 am: It is new years eve…and I dont want a new year to arrive. I let my 2 and 4 year old stay up until 10:30 because I dont want to be alone and because at this time last year I was celebrating with my husband. Sad is…well, it is lonely, isolating, exhausting…it is not something that I ever was generally.
But I also was never quite as desperate for the Lord. I was never quite so able to surrender because I simply don’t know what else to do and I was never so attentive to developing into the woman that God wants me to become. I hate, and I mean I hate, to admit it but Kevin’s death has in some hidden and awful way made me even more aware of the strong faith that I have always had. God uses that tragedy and suffering. I know, somehow. Thank you for your words, your affirming and faithful message. I long for the support that I find in these posts so thank you, And God bless us widows in this new year…time will not stop, so God use us how you see fit.
Sincerely,
Katie
Kitty Hinkle January 1, 2012 at 2:33 am: Katie, you have hit James 1:2 on the head. To really make an impact–I mean really be used by God for a purpose to impact the world for Him, you’ve got to learn to relax on the road less traveled enough to know that the pain of being there is a struggle that’s not intolerable. It hurts, but you know you’re exactly where God can now use you to impact others for Him. That’s where the joy comes- real joy- permanent joy And whether you sit on that road less traveled for a year or 19 years, if you get to where you are now, God can finally use you in infinite ways.
Happy New Year.
kitty Hinkle January 1, 2012 at 2:51 am: Sylvia, on Betty’s reference to wrestling with God– Jacob said this: “for I have seen God face to face, and my life is preserved”. This was in Genesis 32:30 right after he had spent an entire night wrestling with an angel who happens to be Christ Himself. It’s only through the struggle–that wrestling match, that God becomes obvious to the individual.
I will pray for you.
Betty January 1, 2012 at 10:57 am: Thanks Kitty!
I knew there was a bible reference but wasn’t sure where. It is interesting that I read this this morning because that is EXACTLY what I did ALL night last night with God. I am exhausted starting out this New Year from the wrestling and no sleeping but can’t say that He is more obvious to me today,but I have to trust that He will be.
From looking at the time of your post, it looks like you were up in the night as well!
Kelly January 2, 2012 at 12:01 am: My husband has been gone now for almost 11 months and I still feel like he is going to walk through the door , but then the door never opens. My 20 year old son says mom it is what it is! I am trying to trust in God and I know He is Soverign but I just can’t seem to hear His voice. I want so desperatly to know what His will is for my life but all I seem to get is silence. Thanks for your words at least I know I am not alone and that I too can get through this and I know that I have to just keep trusting in the Lord.

Proverbs 31 Ministries blogpost: Reliving It

2012-01-02T06:01:00.000-05:00

Last week I posted on the Proverbs 31 Ministry blog for widows about helping one of my adolescents with grieving:

Dear sisters who share the same kind of heartache I’ve shared for years. There are times when I feel my heart breaking and this is one of them.

I had a posting ready to place on our blog when something distressing occurred just last evening. It caused me to set aside what I was going to post and report to you what happened, because, frankly, sisters, it’s got me so sad I can’t possibly put my heart into encouraging others.

You see, Tom died. Again.

I expected this, was warned about it. But it nevertheless knocked me off my feet. Again.

You see, when a child of six or seven years old loses his father, in a way, he doesn’t really lose him….yet. The mind of a six or seven-year-old simply can’t fathom the permanence of death. It takes the adolescent mind of a ten or eleven-year-old to start grasping, at a heart level, what really happened to his father.

And that’s what happened tonight. In Carter’s eleven-year-old heart, Dad really died tonight.

And after two straight hours of sobs, he sat up and said, “Mom, it really feels like it just happened—like tonight.”

It started for him with the new aquarium he got for Christmas. It’s gorgeous—with a cool background and tons of colorful plants, glow-in-the-dark gravel, and a volcano that blows bubbles. He was marveling at it as he climbed into his bed and I tucked him in, thinking he is his happy-go-lucky self, until later when he padded into my room. “I miss Dad.” He had done this many times before, so as I typically do, I sat with him on his bed.

He later told me that all those other times he said he missed Dad, he was only saying that because he wanted me to spend extra time with him. “This time, Mom, I really, really missed him.”

He cried about not being able to remember as much as he wanted about Dad. He cried about the teacher at school who would embarrass him by having the class pray for him over not having a Dad. He cried about missing out on camping and hiking with Dad. He cried about the kid in school who asked him who signs his papers since his Dad is dead. He cried about how unfair it is. He cried about missing Dad’s laugh.

Then he admitted that when Dad died four years ago, he just went through the motions, even though he saw Tom die right before his eyes. “I was too little. I didn’t understand what a heart attack was. I didn’t know why he was just floating in the water. But even though it was scary, I wasn’t sad.” That night, he told me, after we told him Dad died, he even asked his older brother why he was crying. When his older brother looked surprised that he didn’t know, he pretended the tears because everyone else was expecting tears. “Now I know why everyone was crying and now I can’t stop.”

I spent hours with him, helping him process. You may have to do this with your child when they reach eleven. I hope I did the right things.

“Mom, it’s not fair,” he said. “You always tell me all the great things he did with me, but I was only seven, and I hardly get to remember all the stuff he did. It’s not fair.”

“True, it’s not fair, and I wish you could remember,” I said. “But truth is, Carter, all the memories of all the things you and Dad did together are there, locked deep in your brain and heart. It hurts that you don’t have them at the top of your brain where you can pull them out, but your body remembers, and that’s why you’re the great kid you are today, because deep inside you know you were deeply loved. Deep down there is a knowledge in your heart that you were held, fed, played with, wrestled with, taken around on Dad’s shoulders, and constantly loved by Dad. No one can take that away. There are lots of people growing up feeling unloved because nobody did that for them. But you’re special. Dad really loved you and loved hanging out with you, and deep down you know you’re special because of it.”

Pray for me sisters. It’s like reliving Tom’s death through my eleven-year-old’s tears. And next to him in the bed across the room is his little brother, who will have to go through the same loss a year from now.

These are all seasons, and I’m honored to be able to love this little guy through his loss. I’ll bring you the post I intended later in the week.

Blessings.

{ 24 comments… read them below or add one }

Kathy December 27, 2011 at 5:50 pm: Thank you Katie,
I appreciate you sharing with us. I will be praying for you; sounds like you have done a wonderful job of helping the boys with their grief. God bless you with His presences.
Jamie Parfitt December 27, 2011 at 9:05 pm: Thanks for sharing that. I wonder if that will happen with my younger children. One was 6 and one was 9 at the time. The then-12 and now 13-year-old sometimes looks sad. Maybe this explains it. The five boys, who got to see him in the hospital all swollen and losing blood, seemed to grieve that night and be done. The girls have seen the hospital pictures (and the roadside pictures), but maybe it isn’t real to them as you say.
Jamie Parfitt December 27, 2011 at 9:06 pm: That wasn’t clear. The three youngest are girls. The five boys were 14 to 24.
Betty December 27, 2011 at 11:01 pm: Oh My Dear Kitty,
After the back and forth emailing that we did last night and then you had Carter’s grief to live through which of course “torn off the bandage” of your own grief. Bless your and Carter’s hearts. What a wonderful young man that he can express himself so clearly and you validated all that he said with such grace and compassion.
Thank you for allowing us in to those wounded places in both of you .
Kitty Hinkle December 28, 2011 at 2:58 am: Thanks, ladies. Jamie—eight of them? You’re quite a woman, that’s for sure. I grew up in a family of eight kids and I cannot imagine my mother doing it alone. Hats off to you!
Well, ladies, if a night of that with Carter wasn’t enough–tonight it was my fourteen year old’s turn. Up again. This time until 1 AM.
I’d stay up all night if that’s what it would take to help them know they can come to me and they have a place to talk about their father. Just today I met a woman who had lost her father when she was 7. She’s now in her forties and doing well. But only after years of heartache,, rebellion, and hard knocks. “I was this angel of a girl until twelve,” she said. “Now that I hear what Carter is saying I think really, no one ever talked with me about losing dad and it didn’t really get to me until twelve years old. I sometimes wonder how my life would have been had my mother really tai to me
Yvette December 28, 2011 at 8:54 am: Thank you for sharing! You are paving the road for some of us and showing us just how important communication with our children is! My husband went to be with the Lord this year and my two boys, ages 6 and 19 months, miss their daddy, but truly do not understand the entire concept of death. God, in His infinite wisdom, shelters and protects small children from fully comprehending. Maybe because fully understanding at that age would rob them of their innocense and joy? Who knows, but I am grateful! I know that I have to prepare myself because the grief, true loss of their daddy will soon come, and I have to be ready to comfort them and encourage them as you did! Your words to your son were beautiful and encouraging. He was loved so much by his father, and that makes a difference in his life! Thank you so much for sharing and I will be praying for you and your family as you go through this part of your grieving journey with your children! God is so faithful His peace and comfort will continue to guide you and carry you through!
God bless you!!
Rene December 28, 2011 at 9:03 am: Thank you so much for sharing this and I will be praying for you and your family. My children were also young (9,7,and 2) when my husband died and I have been warned about this as well. I could see, especially in my 7 year old son, that they just have not been able to comprehend what exactly happened to their dad. And like your boys, their father died right in front of them of a heart attack. Thank you for giving us some ideas of how to talk to them about this when the time comes. I pray desperate prayers to God begging for his wisdom when it comes to handling my children’s grief. While I know that this event will always have a major impact on their life, I am trying to do all I can to minimize the negatives and help them use it to make them into amazing, God fearing adults with a story to share of God’s love and provision in their lives. Blessings to you and your family!
Sheryl December 28, 2011 at 9:26 am: I have been a widow for 1 year after 36 years of marriage. My husband and I were young when we married (me almost 18 and he was 19). We had children when we were young so our three sons are now 36, 32 and 30. Our youngest son’s wife died 6 years ago after surgery and left him with two small children (they were 5 1/2 and 3 years of age when their mommy died). They have Cystic Fibrosis so we invited our son and grandchildren to live with us to be a source of help for them. My husband died in an auto accident taking the children to school. He was 55 and I was 54 – thankfully the children were not injured (at least physically). I feel so badly for them that they have had so many challenges as young children. They are now 12 and 9 years of age. I worry about how they will process all of this in their teen years and pray God’s protection over them physically, spritually and mentally.
This past year has been so heartbreaking for me – I read a quote yesterday that said: “Although I am strong, sometimes I just need someone to hold my hand and tell me everything is going to be okay.” I immediately thought of my husband and the strength he gave me when he reached for my hand and told me “oh honny-babe, it is going to be okay.” . I hear so often “you are a strong woman” and I must admit I have grown to hate hearing that. I wish I didn’t always have to be strong – I always wanted to have someone hold me and tell me everything is going to be okay – thankfully my Heavenly Father reassures me of this now – I cannot wait to be cradled in His strong arms someday feeling His physical embrace. I think that is probably the one thing we all desire (including our children, grand-children) a safe place of pure comfort. May God be especially near to all of you – I know this isn’t a club/group any of us wanted to join but we are here so I pray God will guide, direct and comfort each of us on this journey.
Sheryl
Kitty Hinkle December 28, 2011 at 9:27 am: My prayers for you, Yvette and Rene. Your kids will do great–I love how you’s committed to talking with them—and celebrating their father. Let them bring him into all joy of the family! Let them drop him easily into the conversation. Then they can see they still have intimacy with him–it’s through the legacy he left of joy and playfulness, if that’s who he was. Or discipline and accomplishment, if that’s who he was. Or creativity, if that’s who he was. Then when your child grieves as an adolescence, you can point to the evidence of your child’s relationship with his father, and then point to the Father above, who brings other “fathers” in his/her life to continue what their dad began. Prayers for all of you.
Kitty Hinkle December 28, 2011 at 10:30 am: Sheryl, I so resonate with your dislike of being told you’re strong. I’m not strong. The Lord’s power is. I just go with His flow.
Liz Anne Nay Wright December 28, 2011 at 10:43 am: So sorry for this painful time, Kitty! Praying for you and your boys! Mine were 8, 5, 2 1/2 and 7 months when their dad died. I know with my oldest turning 13 (today in fact), there have been times when we have talked about Daddy and cried. I guess I cannot expect anything different from them than I have found in myself — there are milestones when I miss Keith at odd times and predictable times, new levels of processing are occurring for me as I face milestones on my own. God is there through it all, guiding, directing, giving me the words and the strength when I have none (which is OFTEN). That is what it is supposed to be though, I suppose: a life of total dependence on God, made easier in some ways that there is no possible way that I can do this life on my own. I do better when I rest in Him and don’t even try to handle it all on my own. I just do the next thing I feel led to do, resting in Him for the results, both with my kids, homeschooling, ministry, everything. Praise Him that He is there through it all! Praying for you!
Danita December 28, 2011 at 12:41 pm: Precious friends – I truly thank God that we journey together and that we can read each others words and say ‘I get it’. Kittie- thanks so much for being raw and real. That helps a lot. Eight years into my journey I am realizing that the 8 yr old who lost her dad is currently re-processing it all at 16. Counseling has helped us both to walk through this. And help unpeel the grief that had been shoved into a tidy box because an 8 yr old couldn’t handle it all. Apparently kids re-process loss at every developmental stage. So a loss at 8 is dealt with again at 13 and then 16 and then 18. It is, as Kittie said, like losing their dad all over again. It is not a tidy ‘stages of grief’ thing. it is raw and messy and unpredictable ( and then throw in teenage hormones !! ) I found this info to be helpful: http://www.goodtherapy.org/blog/the-death-of-a-parent-healing-childrens-grief/ Hopefully, we will have more resources to share on the site soon. Hugs and hope and healing.
cyndi December 28, 2011 at 3:43 pm: Dearest Kitty, I will be praying for you and your children. What a hard road to walk and it sounds like you are handling it with such wisdom and grace. Praying that God will comfort you the way you are comforting your children. Praying that His love and strength will be very real to you and that you have a strong support system to carry you when you need it.
Terri December 28, 2011 at 4:39 pm: I am praying for all of you that are going through this difficult time with young children. I know how hard it has been on my adult children to loose their dad. I am a 57 year old widow now, (my husband died 2 1/2 years ago), but I have also been that 10 year old little girl who lost her daddy very unexpectedly. I have experienced many of those moments some of you have described where I feel the loss of him all over again. Most recently was two weeks ago when my paternal grandmother passed away. She was my last connection to my father. This time was hard for me but also very theraputic. You see my brother, sister, and I were not allowed to attend our father’s funeral, we were 10, 6 and 18 mos. at the time. In her grief, my mother allowed others to make decisions for her and many years later admitted to me that she regretted that decision. So when my siblings and I went to our grandmother’s funeral we found ourselves going back in time 47 years and experiencing what it would have been like to be at his funeral and then making that drive to the cemetary. I know this may sound strange, but it felt so good and freeing to be at the cemetary where my daddy was buried and share this time with my family and friends. Many tears were shed that day…tears I was not able to shed in 1965. I am so thankful for this experience and as I left the cemetary that day, I had a smile on my face. I guess grownups can have those moments too and it’s okay. My precious husband, daddy, and grammy are in heaven with Jesus now and I know I will see them again soon! Praying for all of you and your children. May God give you strength, comfort, and His amazing peace that passes all of our understanding!
Leah Gillen December 28, 2011 at 7:59 pm: Kitty,
My sweet sister…I am praying for you…and, of course, Carter! Interestingly enough, while I’m not a child…my husband died all over again this week too. I’ve entered a new stage of grief it appears, and it’s been pure heartbreak…all over again!
Clinging to Him…
Leah
Monique December 28, 2011 at 9:36 pm: I’m praying Kitty. I can’t imagine what you and the boys are feeling. My hurt is so different and devastating yet so much less in what I lost compared to you all. I’m so sorry sister, I’m so sorry for your pain. For the pain your babies are dealing with.
Please Lord, comfort Kitty and her boys. They need to feel your arms around them. They need your peace. They need to know that You’re with them. We know that is a true fact, but sometimes our pain is so loud we can’t find you. Help them feel, see, hear you Father.
Julie Reed December 28, 2011 at 10:41 pm: Kitty,
Thanks so much for sharing this part of your life journey with us. I’m keeping you and Carter close in heart and prayer. I’m going through the exact same thing with my 14 year old…soon to be 15. He spent the majority of Christmas day sobbing in the bathroom or his bedroom. It just really got to him this year not having daddy around. I’m sure our moving to a new home in a few weeks isn’t helping the process, but it was so raw and real…almost like the day it happened.
I wish I had a magic wand some times to wave around and wish it all away, but I know that God will provide the healing and comfort for him and our family along each step of this crazy, crooked path of grief. I’m grateful that we have each other to help and cry out to along the way.
Praying you get some rest tonight. Thanks again for sharing, my friend.
Renee Myers December 29, 2011 at 12:25 pm: I’m so sorry, and truly understand. I lost my first Dad in a car accident when I was 2. I treasure the snip-its of memories I have of him, yet will always wish I’d known him more. Like your son, I’ve grieved at different times in my life (I’m almost 50). Precious have been my time with his family, the photos, stories, and mementos others have shared with me through the years. God blessed me with a wonderful ‘second’ Dad and many other great people in my life. I pray God’s love will comfort, guide and provide for you and your family, too.
Jill December 29, 2011 at 6:04 pm: Dear lovely ladies, Thank you so very much for your post and all of the above comments. I am so very grateful for each and every one of you and all of you being will to share your experiences. I had no idea about this reliving process. I feel so very sad about it for your kids. I must say the things you described have been happening at our house. I haven’t been able to put my finger on it. I’ve just been praying over them and really seeking to let God use my mouth for his purposes. After reading this God has truly used your words to shine a light on what I am dealing with. Their dad, my guy died 18 months ago and we are dealing with our second Christmas/New Years. It seems as if this one has been very painful in different ways, There have been three words that have helped me get through all of this last bit of 2012. Emmanuel, BELIEVE, Peace. I know it’s because of reading your posts throughout this year. Thank you. Praying for you and yours.
Kitty Hinkle December 30, 2011 at 2:41 am: Wow, ladies–all of you. We’re blessed with some pretty remarkable stories here. Thank you for all of your sharing.
Rhea December 30, 2011 at 9:30 am: Oh precious ladies!! God is in our lives in so many different roles and —-He Is Here— for all of us no matter what stage of grieving we and our children are in. My prayers will be lifting each of you up today and I am so thankful for this wonderful site. Thank you ladies of A Widows Might, God knew what we needed and you ladies obeyed, by allowing God to work through you in beginning this blog. Many blessings to each of you and your families, (mine too)!
Jan December 30, 2011 at 6:32 pm: Now, with our first Christmas behind us, I’m reliving what we went through between Christmas and the day my husband’s brain tumor took him away from us 78 days later. Those days were unbelievably dark, traumatic, and painful! I didn’t know I’d have to go through it all again! I don’t think my two boys, who turned13 and 18 within weeks of losing their dad, have yet “processed” their pain. In the bleakness of a snowless winter, I’m growing afraid that I have yet to walk through the darkest part of this valley of the shadow of death.
Kitty Hinkle December 31, 2011 at 3:02 am: Precious Jan, consider committing to memory 2 Timothy 1:7, if you have not already. “For God has not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.” So many times in the Bible, Christ commands us “Do not fear”. God doesn’t want us to fear, but to claim our victory in Him. There’s a posting here about believing in what God has in store for your boys… http://www.awidowsmight.org/2011/02/what-is-gods-vision-for-your-family/
My prayers for you!
Betty December 31, 2011 at 10:43 am: Dear Jan,
My heart is just “bleeding” for you as I read your post. I am so very sorry for you loss. I had two very traumatic weeks of watching what my husband endured before his death. He died in July at the age of 48.
So I wanted to share with you that your trauma is real. Not just from suffering the loss of your husband but the traumatic experience it created in watching what he endured before his death.
I can only share from my experience, because I only know how it feels to have been through this with my husand, I can’t possilby know what it is like for you with yours and it would be insulting to your pain to say anything less. But here is what I found out for me. After Bob died there was of course the shock and the numbing affects to get through all the arrangements. It wasn’t until months later that I too started reliving the trauma of those two weeks before his death. Questions rose up in me that there was no time to ask in the course of all that took place then. I had to process the trauma before I could even begin to grieve his death. Because those events kept “rattling” around in my mind I began to write them down. It gave validity to what I had witnessed and endured those two awful weeks. Moving it “up” and “out” of me made it more manageable.
Your fear is very real and understandable thank you for having the courage to admit to it. When each “dark valley” appears for you to walk through your way with be “lighted” when you need it, the fear is we don’t know that until it happens and it’s hard to trust that it will be when we “feel” so “shattered”.
Dear Lord, I lift Jan before you now with ALL the emotions that are churning inside her, wrap your presence around each one of them and “light” her next step and give her the courage to take it. We ask this Lord in Your name…..Amen

5x7 Folded Card

2011-11-30T22:59:00.001-05:00

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Conversations

2011-11-28T16:58:00.000-05:00

1 The serpent was clever, more clever than any wild animal God had made. He spoke to the Woman: “Do I understand that God told you not to eat from any tree in the garden?”

2 The Woman said to the serpent, “Not at all. We can eat from the trees in the garden.3 It’s only about the tree in the middle of the garden that God said, ‘Don’t eat from it; don’t even touch it or you’ll die.’”

4 The serpent told the Woman, “You won’t die.5 God knows that the moment you eat from that tree, you’ll see what’s really going on. You’ll be just like God, knowing everything, ranging all the way from good to evil.”

Genesis 3:1-4 (The Message)

In my reading of Genesis this morning, I was struck by how quickly Eve got trapped by the serpent’s conversation. Before she even knew it, she herself wasn’t speaking what she knew was truth about what God really told her about the forbidden fruit. Why did she let herself get into that conversation in the first place?

Then I thought about all the times in the four years without Tom when I’ve started an anxious cycle of self-talk that only led me to further unrest. I wonder sometimes how I got on that dialogue with myself in the first place, and then I wonder, was I having the conversation with me or with the enemy himself?

Eve’s first mistake was to engage in a conversation with the serpent. Have you ever tried to have a conversation with someone so gifted at talking circles around you and found yourself flustered and unable to keep track of the truths in your own heart?

I have a cousin like this, cunning and conversational and adored by everyone. We’ve always been close, until I noticed the closer I drew to Christ, the more adversarial he became. Believers around him know better than to beat him over the head with the Word, but he initiates the conversations about God—not sincere questions, but lures. He tells me he enjoys destroying Christians in debates, and I can see he’s skilled at it, not because he speaks from truth, but he uses his gift of gab to muddle up the Christian into tripping over their own words and meanings until they tearfully retreat. He then laughs, like the serpent, but he has no understanding that their tears aren’t about losing the argument, but about the condition of his soul.

How many times has satan lured a widow into those conversations where he flusters her, twists her up in her own thinking, until she buys into his lies. In The Silent Seduction of Self Talk, author Shelly Beach describes the inner voices that widows are particularly susceptible to falling prey to. What are yours? How about these…

I can’t go to church alone.

I can’t fix a faucet.

I can’t remember to take the trash out—that was my spouse’s job.

My kids will always be at a disadvantage without a father.

There’s no one else who will ever be good enough to spend the rest of my life with like my spouse was.

Married couples only want to socialize with other couples—no one wants to hang out with a widow.

I can’t manage my finances alone.

It would be selfish to do things for myself—my kids need me.

Do you know what to do when you’re in a conversation with a serpent? I learned what to do when my cousin comes at me with another provoking question. I recognize whom I’m tangling with, and I let God prepare my response.

I recognize that to argue over each of my cousin’s inciting words will fluster me; cause my articulation of God’s truth to come out twisted and exaggerated. I’ve learned to keep my conversations on Godly truths with him brief and straight from God’s Word, just as Jesus did. Each time satan tempted Jesus in the wilderness, Jesus answered with, “It is written….” Now, when my cousin attacks, I stand clear with one biblical truth and disengage, leaving him something to ponder about rather than a satisfied pride in thinking he’s befuddled yet another Christian.

So why can’t we do this with satan himself?

We can! We can recognize the danger of letting the enemy worm his confusing thoughts and negativity in our hearts and stop him before he gets a chance. Arm ourselves with spiritual truths and reverse the lies. Yes, God will introduce me to new people at church so I won’t be alone. Yes, anyone can fix a faucet if they clear their minds and take it one step at a time. Yes, taking out the trash is my responsibility and God hasn’t given me more than I can handle.

Try reversing the other lies this way, and then try reversing the lies you may have been discussing with the enemy instead of with your Lord. Let the rest of us know what you’ve discovered. We’d love to hear from you!

Jacob wasn't fooling anyone - Genesis 30

2011-10-11T23:50:00.003-04:00

A pastor who was trained at Dallas Theological Seminary (reputable and sound in their doctrine---some of my favorite pastors came from there), wrote an essay on the tricky ways Jacob thinks he’s manipulating the deal over Laben’s speckled lambs. It’s right here. But exposing sheep to speckled branches while they are mating doesn’t have any sound reasoning— it simply isn’t the way to generate speckled baby lambs.

Nevertheless, the trick does two things--- causes Jacob to BELIEVE he tricked his way into prosperity when all along it was simply God’s provision. And #2, it causes the sons of Laben to resent Jacob and then come after him as he leaves to go back to Canaan.

When is Jacob going to finally learn that he doesn’t have to trick his way like he did with the birthright? Seems he thinks he can do it himself— sounds like a wrestling match brewing between him and God. Stay tuned as the tension before the match heats up!

John the Baptist IS NOT Elijah? Matthew 17

2011-10-11T23:12:00.000-04:00

When Jesus goes up on the Mountain and visits with Moses and Elijah, the disciples witness the voice of God Himself saying this is my Son. They then ask Jesus why, then, do the teachers say that Elijah must come first.

Jesus answers that Elijah has already come and was rejected. He’s not saying John the Baptist was Elijah— that would go against anything in the Bible because John the Baptist was born the natural way and therefore didn’t just appear-- no one gets born the natural way twice. He’s saying the John the Baptist would have fulfilled the role of Elijah coming before the Messiah, but he was rejected.

I struggle with this logic a bit— a biblical scholar write about it in the pink box on this web page. //www.bibletrack.org/cgi-bin/bible.pl?incr=0&mo=3&dy=22

Matthew 18:1-14 It's all about Children

2011-10-11T23:09:00.001-04:00

Jesus talks about children in 3 ways here”

First, Become Childlike - To enter the kingdom of heaven you must first change and become like a child. Children have a more innocent submissive heart to things of wonder— like creation, like the excitement of Christmas, and the reality of God. As we grow up, we get jaded and cynical. Christ wants us completely and wholey – with childlike hearts for him.

Second, Careful that you don’t ruin a child - that us grown people need to protect the hearts of children so that they don’t get jaded to the ways of the world. He goes so far as to say that for anyone to lead a child astray it would be better for them to sink to the bottom of the sea. Jesus takes very seriously how we treat and raise children and the role models we are to them. I wish our society took more seriously what we role model to our kids.

Third, God treats all of us as His children - Jesus tells us the Father wants no one lost and relates children to small sheep that the shepherd will chase after if they leave the flock.

Jacob's Family - What a mess! (Genesis 28 and 29)

2011-10-11T23:07:00.002-04:00

If you read these passages carefully, you’ll be able to follow just how messed up Jacob’s family is. 1- Jacob’s uncle tricks him into marrying Leah instead of Rachel, so poor Leah never really feels love from her husband. 2-Jacob marries Rachel too because he loves her so now you have the two sisters jealous of each other 3-Leah has lots of kids and Rachel can’t seem to have kids so she’s jealous of Leah but Leah knows Jacob loves Rachel more.

Finally Rachel wants a child so badly she has Jacob take on more wives out of handservants so that Rachel can claim one of their kids – still doesn’t fix things. Finally Rachel has sons.

It’s a mess and you’ll see that while God eventually brings good out of it all, still for the immediate family itself, there is pain and fighting and ugliness between the offspring that came from this mess.

If there is ever a Psalm to Commit to Memory - Psalm 23

2011-10-10T08:16:00.000-04:00

I had the good fortune of having the boys in a Bible Memory verse group called AWANA for years. In it, each of the boys memorized tons of scripture. But the most useful to me is this entire psalm, because in it contain the seeds of contentment in all situations, so the entire psalm can be repeated at any moment to bring the reality of God into your heart to soothe and mend and encourage and move you forward.

If you don't already know, and you probably do, the Psalms were written by David. David was an incredible character whom you will read a lot about in the book of Samuel and in Chronicles. David is the youngest son of Jesse who lived during the time when Saul was the king of Israel, but not a very good king. David was chosen by God to replace Saul, but of course, Saul didn't go willingly and sought to kill David.

But David had incredible character and strength. Saul chased David and his armies with Saul's armies all over while David hid in caves. That's why a lot of the Psalms are cries out to God, "why must my enemy continue-- do something about him, God! Where are you God, I need you, God." Then there are psalms of thanks, "you're my Rock, God, my fortress" because there are stories of David's life full of victory (David and Goliath). Then there are psalms full of shame and remorse where David cries out how unworthy he is. And there are many things David did that were dishonorable and David repents. In all, God loved David and somewhere in the Bible describes David as a man after God's own heart.

Many people use the psalms to help guide them in prayer. David wrote these psalms as songs to be put to music. David was a harpist. When he first went to work for King Saul, he played the harp and sang for the king and it would calm the king.

Okay, so back to Psalm 23

People call it the Good Shepard psalm. Here's a quick guide to its meaning. I have to restate it in the King James version because first of all I learned it that way, but second of all, it just sounds more poetic and easily memorizable that way!

1The Lord is tmy shepherd; I shall not want.

In other words, as long as I follow the guidance of the Lord, I need nothing else.

2 tHe makes me to lie down in tgreen pastures; tHe leads me beside the tstill waters.

It's the Lord's will for me to feel at ease and at peace.

3 He restores my soul; tHe leads me in the paths of righteousness For His name’s sake.

David understood what it means to repent and be made righteous.

4 Yea, though I walk through the valley of tthe shadow of death, tI will fear no evil; tFor You are with me;

This verse is so comforting when tough times hit.

Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.

Just like a shepherd uses the rod and the staff to keep his flock together, God uses guidance and corrections to lovingly shepherd us.

5 Youtprepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies;

Not only does this reiterate God's provision for sufficiency, but it also suggests that you can have joy right there in the presence of your enemies.

Youtanoint my head with oil; My cup runs over.

Not only will he provide my needs but with abundance

6 Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me All the days of my life;

I love how this verse implies an anticipation of a long life

And I will tdwell in the house of the Lord tForever.

Not only does this imply living in His will now, but being in Heaven with the Lord for eternity.

On Ishmael and Isaac - Genesis 22

2011-10-10T08:14:00.000-04:00

The problems between Ishmael and Isaac began even before Ishmael was born and some say continue today and were prophesied by God himself to Hagar in Genesis 16. While pregnant, Hagar fled from Abraham and Sarah because she felt such oppression from Sarah. It was Sarah's idea to manipulate circumstances to fit God's will that Abraham produce a son, but once Hagar was pregnant, Sarah felt like Hagar despised her and complained to Abraham, who did little more than say, "she's your servant, do with her what you like." So after terrible mistreatment from Sarah, Hagar fled their home.

It was in the desert where an angel of God spoke to Hagar and convinced her to return to Abraham's home and endure the mistreatment from Sarah. The angel described the personality Ishmael would have right there on the spot saying,

"He will be a wild donkey of a man;

his hand will be against everyone
and everyone's hand against him,
and he will live in hostility
towardt all his brothers."

The angels words were certainly true for Ishmael himself, because he forever picked on Isaac and was a wild one, according to Genesis. Finally in Genesis 20, the last straw for Sarah was during a feast for Isaac at age 7 when Ishmael scoffed at his younger brother. Sarah asked Abraham to send Hagar and Ishmael away. Abraham loved both his sons and did not want to send Ishmael away, but God intervened, telling Abraham that he should listen to Sarah and send them away because it is only Isaac that God had intended his original promise (the land of Canaan). But still, God added that he will also rise up nations through the descendants of Ishmael as well.

People today debate whether or not the friction between Ishmael and Isaac is a prophecy to the friction between the Arab world and Israel. There's Biblical support for it, but to make the friction worse, Mohammed came along and changed the old testament text to treat Ishmael as the preferred son of Abraham.

Matthew 12

2011-10-10T08:12:00.000-04:00

There is so much to notice in this chapter that I can only touch the surface. Eventually I pray that you'll understand it far more deeply than I do and you can perhaps guide me through new insights I don't yet know.

Most of this chapter is all about the brewing trouble between Jesus and the Pharisees.

Jesus is Lord of the Sabbath
First in verses 1-8, Jesus deals with the Pharisees' accusation that he's breaking the laws of the Sabbath. Did Jesus really break the laws? There's a good article on this hereif you wanted more reading. On taking grain from the fields, Jesus argues back in two ways. First, by point out how David fed his famished soldiers on the Sabbath, he's pointing out how the Pharisees is ignoring their narrow legalistic view of the law by saying it was okay for David, but second--he comes out and say's there is something greater than the temple right there. He goes on to say that He himself is Lord of the Sabbath.

It's okay to serve others on the Sabbath

In verses 9-14, the Pharisees bring him a man with a shriveled hand. It's a bait to get Jesus to heal on the Sabbath. When He does, the Pharisees are infuriated enough to plot to kill him. But what Jesus is doing is pointing out to them that the Law was never intended to keep someone from serving others, and that He is the one who made the Law.

Jesus is the prophesied Son of David

In verses 22-23, Jesus is healing many and the crowd begins to refer to the prophecies in the old testament and ask if He is the Son of David.

Jesus confronts the Pharisees

Verses 24-37 are fascinating to me. When the crowd starts to say Jesus is the Son of David, the Pharisees start to wonder if Jesus is actually using forces of Satan to heal. Jesus knows what they are thinking and speaks out against them--more strongly than anywhere else. First, he points out how illogical it would be for Satan's demons to act against themselves. Then he speaks boldly, defining sin against the Holy Spirit as blasphemy and unforgivable. Different denominations of Christianity differ on the meaning of the sin against the Holy Spirit. I've always interpreted it in a very simple direct way--this link puts it clearly for me. He then calls the Pharisees a bunch of snakes. I like this part because it debunks the popular picture of Jesus as this non-confrontational peaceful quiet kind of dude.

Jesus tells us that Jonah in the Whale was a Prophesy about Him

Verses 39-42 are interesting in two ways. First--it points out how people are still asking Jesus for another sign. Isn't that just like human nature? Jesus has been healing people left and right and still, they want another parlor trick. But second, I like the sign Jesus tells them about--it's a lot more significant than people give it credit for. He's talking about the sign of Jonah-- you know, the story of Jonah in the belly of the whale. In the book of Jonah, Jonah was swallowed by a whale and stayed in the belly of the whale for three days. Jesus says that just like Jonah was in the whale for 3 days, so must He spend 3 days and 3 nights in the heart of the earth. Jesus is prophesying his own death and resurrection. When Jonah emerged from the whale alive after three days--more alive in his heart than before (you'll cover that story later, but a transformation took place in Jonah's heart while he was in that whale), Jonah's story was a prophesy for the death and resurrection of Jesus, and Jesus Himself is spelling it out to us.

Jesus tells us don't empty your mind--fill it with God

Versus 43-45 are the verses I had referred to when talking about the dangers of Eastern meditation. Jesus talks about an impure spirit leaving a person and finding no rest anywhere, so it returns to the person only to find him like an unoccupied house- clean and ready to move in. So the impure spirit brings with him 7 more spirits to occupy the house with him. Eastern meditation works on the philosophy of cleaning your mind so that nothing resides inside and that it suppose to make you peaceful and happy. Chritian meditation requires filling the mind and heart with God so that nothing but His power and peace and move in and take control.

Destruction of Sodom and Lot's Escape

2011-10-10T08:11:00.000-04:00

In today's reading you have the destruction of Sodom with Lot's escape.

The relationship between Lot and the city of Sodom started way back in Genesis 13 when Abram with his nephew, Lot, headed out of Ur towards the land of Caanan as the Lord instructed. Each had many servants and the servants of the two men began to fight with each other. So Abram told Lot there is plenty of land around, let's each take our servants and go separate ways. Abram, being the uncle, could have chosen the best land for himself, but he gave Lot that choice. Lot looked around and chose the best of lands--the spiritually more selfish choice. The land that Lot chose resides currently near the Dead Sea and is barren today, but geologists say thousands of years ago before the salt of the Dead Sea caused the land to be barren, the land was lush and green and not under todays briny waters.

What's more, Genesis 13 says Lot pitched a tent near Sodom. That city was so wicked that God eventually destroyed it. It's a picture of Christians choosing to snuggle close to the world's values--go to church on Sunday, pray and call yourself a Christian but turn on the TV and watch Desperate Housewives and Sex in the City. The Bible calls Lot a righteous man, but it's certainly not for his decisions.

Later Lot does some alarming things. In Genesis 19 when wicked men come knocking on his door demanding he turn over the angels who had come to call so that they could have sex with them, Lot offers his two daughters instead (the men turned the offer down, demanding the angels instead, and the angels finally struck the wicked men blind). Later in Genesis 19, after Lot and his two daughters escape Sodom, his two daughters each wait until he's asleep and then have sex with him so that they could get pregnant because they didn't trust there would be husbands for them to have babies with. The idea that Lot had no idea and was tricked into having sex with his daughters seems preposterous to most, leaving the conclusion that if Lot was considered a righteous man, it couldn't possibly be because his actions deserved the title.

Nevertheless, later Paul writes in several occasions that Lot was considered righteous by God, and even explains that if even Lot was considered righteous, we should be encouraged that it is not by our acts that we are considered righteous. Pastor Rob Singleton wrote about the righteousness of Lot in this blog post .

BTW, just a fun note. Near the site where Sodom once stood is a salt pillar that many like to think is the wife of Sodom who disobeyed God and looked back at Sodom as they were fleeing and was turned into a pillar of salt. Coincidental, but it makes interesting conversation.

Matthew 11 - John the Baptist

2011-10-10T08:10:00.000-04:00

Charles Stanley writes about John the Baptist here.

In Matthew 11, Christ makes it clear that John is placed high about all prophets that went before him. But He then says that all of us who completely surrenders to Christ (the least in His kingdom) come before John the Baptist, making clear how complete our salvation is through Christ.

Genesis 17 - on the importance of Names

2011-10-10T08:08:00.002-04:00

There are many places in the old and new testaments where God changes someone’s name. He does this to bring new meaning or to punctuate meaning of their names. Here Abram becomes Abraham and Sarai becomes Sarah. Andy Stanley wrote about names here- (use something other than Safari - if the google books link doesn't pull up the preview page on the link - preview the book and go to page 112). Our Genesis 17 reading today shows where God changes their names. Earlier God told them to name their child Isaac meaning laughter because both Abram and Sarai couldn't believe God would give a couple as old as they were a baby and laughed.

Jesus Refused to be a Rock Star (Matthew 14)

2011-10-10T08:06:00.000-04:00

Matthew 14 starts with John the Baptist but finishes with Jesus refusing to give in to the crowds treating him like a rock star.

John the Baptist got put in jail because he openly rebuked King Herod for sleeping with his brother’s wife (Herodias). Later at a feast Herodias’s daughter danced for Herod and the king told the girl the dance pleased him so much she could have anything she wanted. Her mother (Herodias) manipulated her into requesting John the Baptist’s head on a platter. The insight here is to notice Jesus’s reaction (going by himself to be with God) and how now he had gotten so popular that the crowd wouldn’t let him have that time by himself.

He then did miracles and spoke with them – feeding 5000 (which scholars say is only the men-with women and children there were easily 20,000) with five loaves of bread and two fish.

What I’ve been told to notice here is how it says he SENT the disciples to go in the boat ahead of him while he went by himself alone to pray. This is addressed in one of the other three gospels too. I’ve been told that it’s key that he sent them. The crowd tended to get so impressed with the miracles and his teachings that they decided he was their kingly savior that will overthrow the Romans and finally free Israel again. The crowd didn’t understand Jesus’s purpose and they were trying to make him into a rock star of sorts. That’s not what he or his Father wanted, and he didn’t want the disciples getting a big head and falling into that trap. So he made them leave the scene.

When he walks on water, I’m sure you’ve seen sermons on this. The key is Peter wants to walk on water too—Jesus tells him to get out and come. Notice that Peter doesn’t hesitate (showing pure faith in Christ). He climbs out with his eyes on Christ and starts to miraculously walk. He finally sinks only when he looks down at the waves. The lesson is to keep your eyes focused on the Lord, not on your problems. There’s a really good book about this... http://www.amazon.com/Want-Walk-Water-Youve-Boat/dp/0310228638

Sacrifice of Isaac as a Foreshadowing (Genesis 22)

2011-10-10T08:02:00.001-04:00

Continuing to add notes as I'm reading through the Bible this year. Just a few notes this time about God asking Abraham to sacrifice Isaac, only son through which the blessing of Abraham’s descendents were to com. You might already know some of this from hearing about the locations in the news.

Abrahams obedience and trust in the Lord. When Isaac asks his father, “but where is the sacrifice?” Abraham confidently answers, “He will provide it”. Even to the point of raising the knife above his son’s head, Abraham trusted God would still provide a way for his descendents to come through Isaac. And God did provide, stopping Abraham and providing a ram with its horns tangled in a bush.

Isaac’s total trust and obedience to Abraham his father. Rob Singleton put it this way once: Isaac was a teenager and Abraham was over 100 years old. Isaac most likely figured out what was going on when his father had him gather wood up on the mountain and started to tie Isaac up and lay Isaac on top of the wood. It wouldn’t take much for a teenager to overcome a 100 and some year old man, so why didn’t Isaac run away? He was a willing sacrifice— a foreshadowing of Christ’s willingness to die for us.

Foreshadowing— The sacrifice of Isaac took place on the same mountain ridge (Mount Moriah) that later Jesus died on the cross. Isaac was Abrahams only legitimate son. (There are foreshadowing of Christ and the crucifixion and resurrection all through the Old Testament, making the reading of it far more interesting and bringing purpose to many of the events that happened).

Islam’s version of this story – According to Mohammad, his Allah told him to correct the old testament text and make Ishmael the one who was almost sacrificed. Islam is based on the superiority of the Arab nation through Ishmael, while Judeo-Christian theology relies on the old testament manuscripts dating far earlier than Mohammed which not only sets the record straight on Isaac being the designated son through which God’s promise of the land of Canaan came, but also presents the Hebrew line as chosen, not superior. Christ came and adopted all into the chosen line through his sacrifice but asks for our humility as the chosen people.

The fight over Mount Moriah- Mount Moriah is in Jerusalem and is considered extraordinarily holy by the three largest religions in the world – Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. It’s not only where Isaac was almost sacrificed, it’s where Solomon built David’s temple and where the second temple was built by Nehemiah after the first one came down (during the Babylonian captivity of the Hebrews). It’s later on that ridge where Christ was sacrificed, and today it’s where the heat of the fight over Jerusalem stands. Near it is the Western Wall—the last remaining wall of David’s temple. On top of the ridge, on the most holy ground, the Muslims have build the Dome of the Rock. There is a rock there that the Dome of the rock was built around, and Muslims have designated it as the place where they believe Mohammed ascended into Heaven and later decided that it was on that rock that Ishmael was almost sacrificed. The shrine they have there is closely guarded and Israelis are forbidden to enter the shrine (even though it’s in Israel). The prophesies in the Bible say that before Christ returns, the temple of David will be rebuilt, yet again, on that exact spot. With Muslims treating it as their shrine, it’s hard to see how that will happen, but we watch and wait. In 2000, the prime minister of Israel made a bold visit to the temple mount— it’s written about in his biography here. http://www.ariel-sharon-life-story.com/16-Ariel-Sharon-Biography-2000-Visit-to-the-Temple-Mount.shtml

Notes on Today's Reading - Lot

2011-10-05T11:06:00.001-04:00

In today's reading you have the destruction of Sodom with Lot's escape.

The relationship between Lot and the city of Sodom started way back in Genesis 13 when Abram with his nephew, Lot, headed out of Ur towards the land of Caanan as the Lord instructed. Each had many servants and the servants of the two men began to fight with each other. So Abram told Lot there is plenty of land around, let's each take our servants and go separate ways. Abram, being the uncle, could have chosen the best land for himself, but he gave Lot that choice. Lot looked around and chose the best of lands--the spiritually more selfish choice. The land that Lot chose resides currently near the Dead Sea and is barren today, but geologists say thousands of years ago before the salt of the Dead Sea caused the land to be barren, the land was lush and green and not under todays briny waters.

What's more, Genesis 13 says Lot pitched a tent near Sodom. That city was so wicked that God eventually destroyed it. It's a picture of Christians choosing to snuggle close to the world's values--go to church, pray and call yourself a Christian but turn on the TV and watch Desperate Housewives and Sex in the City. The Bible calls Lot a righteous man, but it is mostly for Lot's decision to follow God. As far as righteous acts, the most one could say for Lot is that he refrained from participation in the wretchedness of Sodom while it was going on around him.

Later Lot does some alarming things. In Genesis 19 when wicked men come knocking on his door demanding he turn over the angels who had come to call so that they could have sex with them, Lot offers his two daughters instead (the men turned the offer down, demanding the angels instead, and the angels finally struck the wicked men blind). Later in Genesis 19, after Lot and his two daughters escape Sodom, his two daughters each wait until he's asleep and then have sex with him so that they could get pregnant because they didn't trust there would be husbands for them to have babies with. The idea that Lot had no idea and was tricked into having sex with his daughters seems preposterous to most, leaving the conclusion that if Lot was considered a righteous man, it couldn't possibly be because his actions deserved the title.

Nevertheless, later Paul writes in several occasions that Lot was considered righteous by God, and even explains that if even Lot was considered righteous, we should be encouraged that it is not by our acts that we are considered righteous. Pastor Rob Singleton wrote about the righteousness of Lot in this.

BTW, just a fun note. Near the site where Sodom once stood is a salt pillar that many like to think is the wife of Sodom who disobeyed God and looked back at Sodom as they were fleeing and was turned into a pillar of salt. Coincidental, but it makes interesting conversation.

Have you ever really felt love?

2011-05-15T20:36:00.004-04:00

There are two musts for getting repair jobs done around the house: a knack for knowing how things work and enough love to never quit until a problem is solved.

Have you ever really felt love?

Today our family did. Two families from our life group came to spent the entire day blessing our sox off by repairing EVERYTHING in our house. Here’s a running list…. Fixed my totally broken fridge, the icemaker which hadn’t made ice in 6 months, the bball hoop light, my surround sound, my gas stove, my Weber’s igniter, a broken door lock, my attic fan, the automatic garage door, and broken bed slats; then put up a painting and five shelves, reset a GFI circuit, isolated a wasp issue, reached a high chandelier to replace bulbs, pumped up our basketballs and bike tires, scoped out what’s needed to repair our microwave and our zip line, moved the trampoline, set up my son’s archery set, and showed us how to turn on and off the fireplace. Along the way, if the boys and I so much as mentioned something that wasn’t working, they jumped on it and fixed it.

Even their children were completely involved – loving us enough to get in there and do the repairs along with their parents, my boys, and me.

I have to tell you: I’ve tried hiring repair men and never had results like this. I’ve learned that there are two musts for getting repair jobs done around the house: a knack for knowing how things work and enough love to never quit until a problem is solved.

But to love us this much? These families are friends, and I know they care for my boys and me a lot. But to sacrifice an absolutely gorgeous Sunday afternoon and spend it sweating it out at a widow’s home is more than just simply caring for people you like.

It’s love—a Christ love.

How many times, since I lost Tom, have I felt God’s love through people bending over backwards for us, when we don’t even ask them to. It’s as though they can read our minds and know what we need…

The Godly men who have mentored my boys—our pastors and Sunday school teachers who have taken the boys out to ball games and included them in family events with their own sons. Or how about the husband of one of my best friends who's making my boys' dreams of building a REAL LIVE ROLLER COASTER a reality! It’s as though my boys, having lost their own fathers, have found second fathers all over the church.

The Godly women who surround me and lift me and encourage me through the raising of these boys—right down to taking my boys out at every holiday and making sure they have mom taken care of in their surprises.

The men and women who have the ability to handle household repairs—how they’ve stepped in to not only fix things, but mentor my boys and teach them how to be men and manage repairs on their own.

I’m not raising these boys alone. My husband is the Lord, and He works through His body.

I can’t imagine life without these friends. If you are in a church and are walking through those doors alone and trying to live your life without other believing families—don’t. Get in with others, and fellowship. Help them and do life with them.

The Emperor’s New Fudd

2011-05-08T19:55:00.002-04:00

I know that title sounds bad—I'm talking about Fudd, as in Fuddruckers, where last week, my boys had an Emperors New Clothes moment.

I, and all the adults at the restaurant, were like the people in the kingdom agreeing that the king’s new clothing was divine. But Carter, my eleven year old, was that child who called it like he saw it.

And he saw Fuddruckers (no matter how much he loved the place) for what it was—naked.

No doubt when you have four hungry boys, there’s no better restaurant. It’s clean and fun for the family. And their burgers—fabulous!

We’d eaten there so many times I began to take for granted the surroundings and the décor.

Until Carter pulled on my sleeve, a confused expression on his face. “Mom!” he whispered. “Why would Fuddruckers put THAT on the wall?”

I looked at what most of us would tune out like I did. A simple white tee shirt imprinted with bold black letters: “What the FUDD?”

I shrugged. “That’s just the way the world is.” I was ready to let it go.

Carter wasn’t. He pulled at my sleeve again. “But, Mom!”

I looked again at the tee shirt. It was pretty awful for a family setting. Carter’s in the fourth grade where even some of the sweetest kids start experimenting with foul language. I’m grateful Carter’s not one of them. “I don’t get it, Mom,” he says. “They all think it’s funny. I think it’s stupid.”

I do too. And I told him. And we told Fuddruckers.

We didn’t nag or complain, mind you—just told them they’re better than that.

We told them the truth—that we love everything about them and would love to keep coming. But I have to back Carter’s values and decisions here.

Because when we came home that evening, he decided (not me—this had to be his call) that we won’t be going back.

His brothers agreed, and we told the restaurant with respect. After all, not going back meant giving up Carter’s favorite eatery.

When the owner of the restaurant called to follow up, he listened patiently.

“Thank you, Carter,” he said. “I already felt uncomfortable about that shirt. It’s coming off the wall today. I hope you’ll come back.”

I know. It’s just a tee shirt. But with an eleven-year-old, it means learning that you can battle for good in a fallen world.

And win.

Moon Scraper

2011-04-27T22:18:00.005-04:00

From time to time, I get a new "memory" of Big Tom from one of my little Toms. Today it was from Christian. "Mom," he said. "I remember Dad had this squishy blue ball he used to take into the back yard. He'd throw it way high up in the air. So high up we couldn't see it! It took forever to come back down. Then Dad would catch it and say, 'Did you see that? It scraped against the moon and came back to us!'"

If we could bottle fatherhood and spread it around the world. Maybe all little boys would be as joyful as these four!

Mom is the Bomb

2011-02-28T22:37:00.001-05:00

When my second grader was asked to write a poem about Mom around Mothers Day last year, he came up with the funniest poem and presented it in front of the whole class and all the moms at a Mother's Day party. It was so funny, that now my boys repeat it to me even a year later.

It was even so catchy that sometimes they thank God in a prayer using the funny poem. You know, "Thank you, God, for Mom. She's the bomb...."

Okay, so here's the poem.

Mom is the bomb.
She is awesome.
She's like the possum.
She really rocks.
Cause she's a fox.

Okay, so he's not ready for the beatnik scene, and maybe I'm a bit biased, but I like it!

What's God's Vision for Your Family

2011-02-28T22:26:00.003-05:00

What’s God’s Vision for Your Family?

I want you to have a vision for godliness in your home—to yearn for it and expect it with complete sincerity, because without a husband, only you can bring Christ into your home so that godliness can happen. If you find yourself as a single parent, it means God selected you to step up your role. What an honor! Treat it as such, and make your vision equal to that honor by believing in its possibility! It’s only when you absolutely know in your heart that the achievement of everything in your vision is possible that you open the heart of your home for the Lord to take His rightful place as the head of your household.

I unfold the Sunday school study guide and read aloud one of the questions for my four young boys to answer. “Did you ever feel like questioning your commitment to God?”

This isn’t a Sunday school setting. We were having hamburgers at Fuddruckers on a Saturday night, so I’m not surprised when my two youth-group-aged kids answer without much thought. They rattle off a list of teen distractions—peer pressure, school, busyness, and then get back to their hamburgers.

The real surprise comes when I get the deeper answers from my elementary-age children. Sure, they answer. They’ve questioned God before. “When?” I ask.

“When Dad died,” they say without batting an eye. They answer so quickly I have to wonder if it’s something they think about a lot.

They were only six and seven when it happened. Counselors say kids that young haven’t the ability to fully comprehend death. Certainly in those first few months without a father, my little ones shuffled along with ease making us all think maybe they just didn’t get it. While I figured it was all a blur to them, it turns out some very deep questions were brewing inside of them.

I want to take this post to talk about something that scares a new single mom having to rear small children. I’m not going to avoid your deepest fears about what effect being raised without their father could have on them, because I had those fears too, and I know it did no good to have someone pat me on the back of my hand and say, “Dear, Dear, it will be alright. Kids are resilient.”

I won’t try to still your heart about it because that’s not my job. That’s the Lord’s job, and only you can allow Him in your heart to create that peace.

No, my job is to show you, no matter where you are with your children and your widowhood, there are two truths: you can have peace about it, and that there is no time to waste. You need to cease any ideas in your head that you can manage rearing your children by going through the motions or using your own strength and abilities, and instead, build a new vision for them with God’s guidance.

People talk about visioning a lot in the business world. Start applying it to your home. If you are raising children, right here, right now, no matter whether your husband died four months ago or four years ago, I want you to begin to see your family the way God wants it to be.

Maybe you’ve already done this. If so, share with us your vision. Maybe you’re not really sure what a vision might look like. I’ll try sharing an example. I don’t know what God might lay on your heart for your family. Every family is different. But let me give you an idea of what I’m talking about by opening the curtain into what God laid on my heart within days of losing Tom.

Now I’ll warn you ahead of time—it may sound idealistic to you. That’s on purpose. Setting a vision isn’t about trying to make sure you don’t overextend your reach. It’s about really thinking outside of your circumstances and letting God pull away the curtain into how He sees what can be:

I saw my four boys having a true brotherhood in Christ. Being tight, cheerfully tight. Like, the kind of brothers who really enjoy each other. They know each other’s strengths and weaknesses and they build each other up. They’re aware of how special their bond is because they see the difference when they meet other families with siblings who aren’t each others’ best friends. They hang with the kids in the neighborhood well, but they’re quick to recognize when the typical things of the world creep up—things like arrogance, cussing, lying. They know not to swallow that behavior or conform to it. Instead, they handle it like leaders. Other kids notice and tend to behave better around them. In fact, other kids find themselves drawn to want to hang with these brothers.

They do this because they sense our home is happy. In our home, there’s not much yelling or antagonism. But it’s not a dead home, haunted with sadness. No, it’s happy. We laugh so much and play. The boys have all the video games they need, and they have TV to watch movies on, but they’re not hooked on video games, and they don’t even know what a sitcom or American Idol is. They’re too busy playing board games, or building something in the backyard, or gathering the neighbors for a game of four square or football.

And we pray. Every meal, every bedtime, every time a fire truck goes by, and every time they feel an urgent need from the big ones like hearing a kid in school has been diagnosed with cancer to the little ones like whether the sniffles they have might turn into a cold and keep them from going to their friend’s birthday party. Christ is at the core of these boys’ hearts. We gather regularly for devotions and for quiet prayer time, and when we don’t, they miss is. They actually ask me why haven’t we done it in a while. They long for Christ because they know when He’s here, everyone’s happy.

They joke with each other, but their jokes are kind, not sarcastic or demeaning. They are lighthearted because they’ve let go of their burdens and yoke of Christ is light. When one brother is running late for the bus, another automatically starts making a school lunch for the him. He doesn’t even question whether he should. His attitude is like, “of course I should do it. He’s my brother and he needs help.”

And the boys love their mom. Like Dad loved their mom. Like Christ loves the church. They’re practicing. They know there’s a bigger reason for this respect. They know they’re being prepared for life.

I could go on. I could talk about what God wants for their thriftiness, their studiousness, or their honesty.

But let’s be real. This is the vision. I don’t want you to think it’s the benchmark of where we all must be. How perfect the vision is or how much my family’s achieved in reaching that vision isn’t the point, except to say I’m amazed at how setting that vision years ago has allowed the attitude in my heart to facilitate some of it to become real in our lives. I don’t know what the future holds, but for now, God has brought about much of what he originally laid on my heart.

I want you to have a vision for godliness in your home—to yearn for it and expect it with complete sincerity, because without a husband, only you can bring Christ into your home so that godliness can happen. Allowing you to be a single parent means God selected you to step up your role. What an honor! Treat it as such, and make your vision equal to that honor by believing in its possibility! It’s only when you absolutely know in your heart that the achievement of everything in your vision possible that you open the heart of your home for the Lord to take His rightful place as the head of your household.

But first, what is the vision for your home? Take a moment and let God pour His vision over you. Do it right where you stand, whether your home is a happy home right now or not. Step back from what’s happening now and find an image in your heart for where you want to see your family. If it’s only been months since your husband died, and you’re looking at your little children and worrying for them, I want you to freeze that worry in its tracks for just a moment to focus. Freeze all your worries. I mean, maybe your husband died and left you with teenagers who are morose and sullen. Maybe you have preteens who are angry and defiant. Maybe it’s only been months and your four year old is asking, “When’s daddy coming home?” Take a moment and let all that go and let the Lord wash over you and pour out His vision of how your home can be different. Imagine your teens and preteens relaxed, trusting, communicating with you. Imagine your little ones peacefully accepting God as Daddy and He’s already home with them. How will it look in your household when your kids see you as one of their greatest connections to the Lord and His solutions?

When I had that vision, it wasn’t so specific as I defined above. It was just a kind of feeling—like I knew this household could have peace and joy constantly washing over it. I wanted it so badly that I found the Lord washing peace and joy over me, and I found my actions reflecting peace and joy and my kids being attracted to it. I believed it could be so, and I knew a single important fact: If it’s to happen with the kids, they have to see it in me first.

Your role in trusting the Lord and modeling that trust by your walk in front of the kids is more critical after loosing your spouse than anytime before. It makes a difference in how God uses this tragedy, taking what Satan meant for offense in your life and turning it into something that glorifies God.

Write us, and let us know how God’s direction has set your family on his ground with so much peace, or how you desire having that vision set.

My prayer for each and every one of us widows is that we never let the guidance of our Father in Heaven leave our beings.

Lord, please help each and every one of us use our circumstance as a reason to step closer to You rather than stepping away from You. Open our hearts and attitudes so that You can fill us with Your vision for raising our kids and setting the hearts and attitudes in our homes with purpose. Amen

Unplugged in Appalachia

2010-11-21T14:17:00.023-05:00

Have you ever had an unplugged moment when you saw the world for what it was—its beauty and its downfall?

When I came home from a weekend mission trip in the Appalachian mountains with my church, my world looked different.

It was as though God pulled the plug on all the distractions that were weighing me down and keeping me from Him. I thought of one of my teenager’s favorite rock songs called Comatose. The band Skillet wrote it to describe the world around us as filled with people living in a comatose state—minds saturated with media and world messages that keep us from seeing the reality of God. The CD artwork shows a little boy standing with a spellbound look on his face and a giant plug, which he must have just pulled out from a wall. When you open the artwork, you see what he’s looking at—a twisted discombobulation of electronics which must have been keeping him in a comatose state, until that moment.

This weekend brought my family to that moment where the bigger picture came into view. I wanted to describe it for those of you who prayed over us and wanted to know how it went, and for some of you who haven’t yet tried a mission trip, to encourage you to go and see what it does in your heart!

Some of you are visiting from the Proverbs 31 blog, so you already know the introduction. The details follow.

My two older kids and I joined a team of thirty people from my church who partnered with Samaritan’s Feet to bring hundreds of pairs of shoes to a coal mining town in Virginia.

The little church we worked with in Virginia allowed us to set up in their basement and added their hands to our team. The pastor there has a heart for his town and welcomed us with open arms, encouraging his church members to roll up their sleeves and work side by side with us--one team on a mission. We set up twenty stations with basins of warm sudsy water and brought the children and teens individually in with their parents. Each individual received personal treatment from a team member. These are the steps we went through:

· Greeting them - We greeted them and explained how we wanted to first honor them by washing their feet before giving them new shoes.

· Washing - We then began to wash, explaining how Jesus washed the feet of his disciples to show His love and to humble Himself before them.

· Bracelet - As we washed, we offer the child (with the parent’s permission) a colorful bracelet that helped us to tell the story of the gospel.

· The Gospel - We had the child, teen, or the parent read what’s on the bracelet. Meanwhile, we talked them through the Gospel story—black for sin, red for Christ’s blood, blue for our faith in accepting the gift of Christ, white for forgiveness, green for growth, and gold for Heaven.

· Receiving Christ - We ask if they’ve ever accepted Christ and would they like to pray to accept Him into their hearts. Most wanted to, but we completely respected if someone wasn’t interested and moved on to give them their shoes.

· New shoes – We dried their feet, placed new socks and a brand new pair of shoes on their feet.

· Prayer - As we fitted them with new shoes, we asked if there is anything in their lives they would like us to pray with them over. Most wanted us to.

· Connection to the church - Many times the final step was to introduce them to the local church (the pastor or one of the church members) to get them connected.

We expected nods and polite gestures as we washed their feet like Jesus did and told them about the Gospel and what Christ did for them. What we didn’t expect was a rampant grabbing onto the gospel—a more than willingness, a craving to ask Christ into their hearts.

We expected a need for prayer, what we didn’t expect was the shared stories of abuse and neglect and badly placed foster situations and parents in jail or on drugs. We didn’t expect open hearts that shared their stories and asked for open prayer.

We expected smiles over new shoes, but what we didn’t expect was the need—children walking in on bare socks that stuck out through worn soles of old shoes, feet crusted with dirt and grime and shoes so old that mold grew on what was left of the canvas.

Our limited exposure gave some of us an impression that perhaps poor management and oversight in local government only worsened problems of poverty, drugs, abuse and homelessness. We met a woman who had her home razed to make way for a new coal mine. She showed us the photograph of her lost home. She now lives in a trailer like many in the town do. Many children or teens came with no parent. Many don’t live with parents. One downtrodden little girl hardly mumbled to me when I asked if her parents were there. “My uncle,” she whispered as she pointed to an unkempt man in the back of the room. Her little brother explained to my 13-year-old son who was washing his feet, "my uncle kicks me every morning when I wake up.” Brian prayed with him, and walked him through the little bracelet he gave him that explained how Christ died for his sins, and then helped the boy pray to receive Christ.

Another child surprised Brian. "Mom," Brian said. "When I went to take the boy's shoes off, I grabbed the bottoms of his shoes but felt socks instead. His shoes had no heels. It was just the top of the shoes and the front-- there was nothing but socks his heels were walking on. The little boy was so happy to get a pair of shoes."

A teen from the church in the town we partnered with joined us in the foot washing. She sat next to my 15-year-old washing feet and praying with people to receive Christ. During a break she shrugged and explained to him what it was like growing up there. "It's really hard to be a Christian here in the school. So many kids are having sex and doing drugs. It's not like they even think its wrong because most of their parents are doing it too. It's hard to not do what everyone else is doing. My brother went to a party and got stabbed and was left to die in a field. A helicopter picked him up and took him to a hospital. That was a while back. I don't know where he is now. I just know he's brain damaged now. I've lived in too many foster homes to count. I'm a lucky one. I'm in church. No one around here goes to church. They're all hooked on meth by the time they're my age and you're lucky just to finish high school." Of course as outsiders, we don't know how much of a teen's story falls to elaboration, but what we saw was the core reason for the poverty.

Our pastor's wife chatted with a little boy while painting his face. He and his two sisters and a brother came with a foster parent. "Baby," she said, "where's your mama?" The boy said as casually as though she was just at the grocery store... "Oh, Mama, she's in jail." His face brightened. "But she'll be home in about 8 years."

A woman who so obviously loves the Lord told us she's a great grandmother (no older than me) who has already raised 18 children. She explained why her five-year-old granddaughter is such a handful. "She was abused in the worst way by a foster dad when she was three. I was so busy raising my other great grandchildren I didn't even know she had been taken away from her mom and dad until a few weeks passed. I got her out of there as soon as I knew she was in the foster care. I knew right away something was wrong with her because she wouldn't talk. It was a year later when another family accused the man of abuse."

Our team drove through the town to pray for it. So many trailer parks, many run down with police ribbons around them because of a drug bust. Methamphetamines run rampant.

The town also has 50 churches-- all close to empty except for the older traditionalists. Anyone thinking they need to go across the world to deal with poverty need to open their eyes. It's a simple car ride to the next state.

Please don’t read this and think the weekend was depressing. We expected the poverty, so we didn’t let it get us down. It’s what God's doing through the beautiful hearts of a tiny church in that coal mining town and what we were allowed to experience with them that’s uplifting. Here are some incredible moments for me...

A teen girl put her feet in the sudsy water and sulked. I wondered if her makeup and clothing was just the style or a sign that she had already headed into a hard life full of the pain of consequences of poor choices. She was friendly enough and wanted the bracelet I offered. She said she'd never been to church but she'd heard of Jesus-- didn't seem interested. I walked her through the black color on the band. She nodded when I spoke of sin, and did a kind of eye roll when I moved on to the red part of the band-- blood. I first described the blood as punishment for sin and her eyes glazed over. No one likes hearing that sins have to be paid for. Then I explained how when I was her age I went to a church that made me feel like I had to live perfectly to get to Heaven and that if I had any sin on me I had to pay for it somehow-- either Hell or something I do here to make up for it. Her eyes still glazed over.

"But that was wrong," I said. I bent down to wash her feet while I kept talking. "Jesus took your punishment for you. He died on the cross so that you don't have to and all you have to do is accept that He died for you and that you're forgiven and it's done. You don't have to do anything else. You don't have to work your way into Heaven." I kept washing and then I heard....

"Really? That's it?" she said. Startled, I looked up at the teen's face. She had a surprised look in her eyes and a tear on her cheek. "Is that really true?" she asked. To see the earnest relief in her eyes choked me up. I didn't want to embarrass the girl so I didn't pry. It seemed obvious her tears were for something she felt ashamed of and that she liked hearing that it's easy to be forgiven.

We take for granted that people have already learned about the gospel. So few know it and so many want and need it. She prayed with me to invite Christ in her life and I told her that many people will try to tell her that there are other things she needs to do to get to Heaven but if she's sincere about accepting God's grace's she's already forgiven. I told her it's true even if her life takes a rough direction and she makes bad choices. God still loves her, no matter what. She got up and hugged me.

My thirteen year old was washing the feet of a teen that was obviously too old to be a teen- like about 21 or so. Brian is a quiet kind of guy—small for his age so that he looks even younger, like 11 or so. But there he was washing this twenty-something’s feet while talking to the guy about Christ. What a moment to see your child doing that!

Once he was done putting new shoes on the guy he asked, "What can I pray with you about?" The young man, goatee on his chin and earring in his brow, gave Brian a list, "well little guy, ya see that girl over there-- she and I have been dating about 3 years now. And we're thinking on moving in together." My eyes got big as this guy went on and on with my little boy who never meets people whose problems are bigger than can my parents afford to get them a cell phone. I'm thinking I'd have to rescue Brian and step in to pray in his place.

Brian didn't need that, and he didn’t skip a beat. He grabbed both the guy's hands and shut his eyes, praying as boldly and articulately as though this guy’s circumstance was normal and simple. "Dear God, please help this guy and his girlfriend set up a happy home and get married, and help them with their choices and protect them." He amazed me. It’s so easy to underestimate what God can do with even the smallest of hearts.

And that’s simply who we are. Serving in such a concentrated way doesn’t increase you, it makes you smaller, as you should be. When we returned home and found ourselves in that moment, unplugged from our routine and from the comatose nature of centering our hearts on the problems of the day, we see the reality. That when we finally allow ourselves to become lesser, God becomes bigger in us and we can finally be used. Like little Brian being used to pray with someone twice his size and pulling it off in a huge way.

Did he leave your pretty fingers lying in the wedding cake?

2010-11-02T15:18:00.010-04:00

If you're a Costello fan, you'll recognize the title to this post from the words of Elvis Costello's song Alison in the 1970's. Somehow, the words came to mind in the past day or so when a few coincidental emails came to me just minutes apart, bringing my attention to someone I hadn't thought of in a long time--my first husband.

The first email was from his sister who hadn't talked with me since the divorce. She was able to update me on her brother. The second email showed me the fate of the dress I wore at our wedding. Funny the messages both the sister and the dress gave were the same, and inspired me to write. It came out a little different from my usual upbeat heart-- perhaps because the memories were from the darkest period of my life...

I wondered what happened to him.

Eighteen years ago my wonder was a question—why? I didn’t want the divorce. I tried to save it. After signing papers, I carefully packed the sequenced wedding dress away in the closet. It carried so much meaning for me and deserved my respect.

I got up.

Seventeen years ago I walked alone, scared at first—I didn’t know who I was. Until I learned I did pretty well for myself on my own.

I got strong.

Sixteen years ago I wondered. Why was I willing to stick with him so long. I found my anger. At him. At his bullying. At his leaving the marriage. At his never even being in the marriage. I pulled my wedding dress from the closet and gave it to a friend pregnant with a daughter. “Let her play dress up with it—that overpriced beaded rag!” Thank God I had faith by then. I may never have recovered from the anger.

I got stronger.

Thirteen years ago I wondered—at my own foolishness. How stupid was I to let him walk all over me. Why wouldn’t I stand up to him? Being a doormat is controlling too.

I grew up.

Nine years ago I forgave, and wondered why forgiveness took so long. Couldn’t I see struggles he endured as a boy? How could I possibly know who I was without faith? My friend pulled the beaded dress from her closet. It was beautiful indeed.

I grew leaner.

Eight years ago I wondered--at four little boys running about the house. How could I think it’s about me and life’s failures. There’s so much more.

I grew lesser / He grew bigger.

Five years ago I stopped thinking about myself and past pains. I stopped wondering where he was. I just trusted. I had changed. Maybe he had changed, grown, was made lean and then lesser. I trusted he was happy.

And He ruled huger.

Yesterday she wondered about me. It was his sister, contacting me after eighteen years.

I grew hopeful.

“I wondered about him,” I said. “I prayed he was married, happy, healed.” I wondered what she would answer. I imagined him with a family, with his sisters, happy, whole, connected.

She grew solemn.

That afternoon she wondered too. “I haven’t heard from him since the two of you split. Eighteen years. He never remarried and doesn’t speak to our mother or my sister and me.”

I grew solemn.

I stopped wondering and sighed as I closed her email and opened the next.

It was from my friend—a photo of her teen daughter attached. She was wearing the beaded dress as a costume. I imagined her trouncing through the neighborhood for her tricks and treats.

All the beauty and wonder in a sequenced white dress reduced hopelessness on the eve of the day of hallowed saints.

Perfect.

The Birthday Spotlight

2010-08-30T09:27:00.005-04:00

“He got up, rebuked the wind and said to the waves, "Quiet! Be still!" Then the wind died down and it was completely calm.” Mark 4:39 (NIV)

At 5:30 in the morning, the sound of whispers and bustling about in the kitchen made me smile. This is my favorite part of my birthday—dry scrambled eggs, burnt toast, and over-sugared coffee. Breakfast in bed, made by four precious souls who want nothing more than to know that their mom felt their love from the start of her special day.

Birthdays are puzzling and awkward. I want to know my friends care and I love when they gather at lunch with me or meet me with a gift or a hug. But another part of me gets embarrassed—like, maybe having everyone make such a fuss over me reflects a lack of humility on my part. And then that embarrassment spoils the moment. Sometimes I keep a low profile to avoid the whole birthday thing altogether.

This year I decided to try something different. Every time the side of me wanted to reject the attention given to me, I would still those thoughts, and stop worrying over what others thought. Just accept their attention as a gift and say, “thank you”.

My birthday this year turned out to be the nicest I had experienced in a long time. But when those anxious thoughts popped up, I told myself God is showing His love for me through these people in my life.

I thought about how many other places in life I worry too much about what’s going on in other people’s heads about me rather than focusing on how the Lord wants me to consider what’s going on in their lives. Sometimes that starts with stopping the thoughts about me, just accepting a compliment with a thank you, and then taking time to offer love back to them..

I asked a few friends to share how they feel about compliments and attention. Here is what they say.

Teresa says.

I keep my birthdays quiet because I get embarrassed when everyone pays attention to me. But when I got a teaching award at my school, I stood up to accept it and felt the same embarrassment. The principal and a student got up and said all these sweet things about me. I felt like running out of the auditorium. My husband was there and whispered to me, “it’s okay, you’ll make them happy if you just say thank you!” That’s when I figured it wasn’t about me. I had to just ignore my fear and accept the award.

Sherry says:

I remember when I was promoted in my retail job that I worked at while in high school to a management position. I hadn’t been working at that store as long as some of the other employees and there was grumbling. “Why did she get the job?” I almost didn’t take it, because I worried over what everyone thought about me. My mother convinced me the opportunity was too good to pass up and that I should be gracious with the grumblers and just keep focused on the work.

I returned after a busy day of birthday events and found the empty tray with crumbs of burnt toast by my bed. I took their home-made cards carefully crafted with secret codes or funny pictures and hung them on a big wall across from my bed along with the thirty other hand-made cards from birthdays before. I gazed at the wall to thank the Lord.

Lord, every morning, this wall is the first sight that greets me as I wake. Thank you for it and for the children. Thank You for Your love shown through friends, and thank you for stilling the waters of self-conscious thoughts for me! Kids have a way of presenting their unabashed affection with no strings attached, and this year, I learned to receive it with grace from You. Amen.

Would You Take a Moment to Consider Your Feet? (A Tribute to Marienne, my Sister)

2010-08-01T01:30:00.008-04:00

“I took the cast-boot off to give my right foot a sponge bath. When I put my right foot on the bathroom floor next to my left foot, I looked down at them side by side. That’s when I noticed.”

She tried to hide her tears over the phone, but I could hear her fighting them back.

“My two feet are both straight!”

Isn’t it amazing what we take for granted in our lives? Straight feet.

My sister, Marienne, is precious. Now in her fifties, she has spent the first half century of her life looking down at skewed feet—her left straight like everyone else’s, her right turned at a forty-five degree angle to the right.

The crooked feet weren’t just an aesthetic problem. Marienne was born with cerebral palsy. It affected her entire right side of her body. Doctors back in the 1950’s told our parents that she would never walk, but she did. She took her first steps at three years old, her right foot twisted unnaturally so that she stood on the edge of her foot, practically on her ankle.

But she walked!

After three surgeries and years of corrective orthotics, doctors still couldn’t get the foot straightened out. She spent her entire life willing herself to stretch her leg as she walked to minimize the sound of her limp.

Many never noticed. You have to convince people she had cerebral palsy, she is so independent.

Marienne finished high school like kids without cerebral pasley. She went to college. She even finished nursing school and practiced as a nurse for years. She married and remains happily married today after almost 30 years. She took up quilting, surprising everyone with the dexterity she shows in the work of her hands.

Did I mention her right hand is also debilitated due to her palsy? Significantly to where she has trouble gripping a pencil. Yet she quilts!

Such a hero. Such will. Such determination. So much so, that at 55, she decided to take up daily exercise to shed some middle aged weight. With her limp in her right leg, she didn’t want to try aerobics or step classes. She simply walked. Miles a day. The pounds were sliding off. Like with everything she approaches, Marienne met her goals. We call her the incredible shrinking woman! She walked and walked.

Until she fell.

I got a call from her. I didn’t understand what the big deal was. So what, she tripped on something!

“You don’t understand,” she cried. “There was nothing to trip on. My right foot simply didn’t lift right.”

I thought she was overreacting.

Until she called the next week. “I fell again!” This time, she got help. Cerebral Palsy specialists studied her gate using high tech equipment that digitized her movements. They agreed, something was terribly wrong. Her bones had shifted and would move more and more.

Marienne was about to enter the second half of her life with a dangerous impediment in her gate!

That’s why they operated. It’s a tricky surgery. They literally sawed her foot bone in half—the one that was pointing at a forty-five degree angle. Then they filed it down (shaped it) and placed a post against it to fasten it together properly.

Recovery has been rough. Marienne has been in a cast all summer, barely able to even stand. Recently they removed the cast and put her into a boot. Within weeks, physical therapists will begin teaching her new foot how to walk.

And that brings me to Marienne—seated in her bathroom, washing her new foot, and recognizing for the first time in her life…

That she’s simply like everybody else now.

Would you take a moment today and gaze down at the simple sight of seeing your two feet pointing in the same direction and think of Marienne and praise God for His healing through wonderful surgeons?

Whom do you worship?

2010-07-12T19:24:00.021-04:00

As Christians, do my children know who it is they follow?

This week I've let that be the focus of our devotion time because I want to make sure they know where to go in the Bible to nail down a most important foundational truth.

I asked them if they know the difference between Jesus and God.

It took a moment before one of them giggled and said, “Mom! Jesus is God!”

Of course he knew that. I’ve taught it all along. But how often do we forget to make certain truths absolutely clear to our kids to a point where they know how to find that truth for themselves in the Scriptures?

There will come a day when my boys will go out into the world armed only with what foundational truth I’ve provided them. They will face those who will try to water down the Gospel. Those who will tell them, “Jesus was a teacher. Jesus was a good man. Jesus was a prophet.” Those who might even admit, “Jesus is the Son of God,” but stop there.

Will my kids notice what was missing in those statements? Can they defend the deity of Christ?

The truth that Christ is not just the Son of God, but one with the Father is our focus with my kids in our family bible study this week.

I started with a simple question. Does it matter? After all, those that follow Christ and don’t consider Him God, aren’t they still following Him?

No.

How can you follow someone when you don’t know whom you are following?

Christ is either God incarnate or not. If He is (and of course, He is!) and someone doesn’t believe it, then the Christ they are following is not Christ at all, but a mere man.

I guess I picture us one day standing before the real Christ--the Son of God who is God Himself. If it's only then we recognize that He really is God, then we never really knew Him. Those who have denied Who He is will have to answer to Him. They might say, “But all our lives we said, ‘Lord, Lord’.” And He will answer, “Go away from Me, I never knew you.” (Matthew 7:22-23)

When the boys and I dug deep, we found some of these truths helpful and nailing down for us that Jesus is one and the same with our Father God...

Isaiah’s prophecy defines Christ as God:

Isaiah the prophet, over 500 years before Christ was born, prophesized Messiah declaring Him in no uncertain terms to not only be the Son of God, but God Himself. “For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given: and the government shall be upon his shoulder: and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counselor, the Mighty God, The Everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace.” (Isaiah 9:6)

John’s Prophecy defines Christ as the Word—and the Word is God:

In Revelation (19:13), John talks of the Christ coming down from the Heavens and defines Christ by saying, “His name is called the Word of God.” So, in many places in the New Testament where it describes the Word becoming flesh, it’s speaking of Jesus. John says, “The Word was God.” (John 1:1)

The Pharisees Sought to Kill Jesus for His “Blasphemy” of Asserting He is God:

Jesus healed and then said, “Go, your sins are forgiven.” (several occurrences; Luke 5:23 is one example). The Pharisees were angered because only God could forgive sins. Jesus told them before Abraham he was the “I Am”. (John 8:58) The Pharisees accused Him of blasphemy, but Jesus didn’t deny his statements or actions. If he was misunderstood, why not correct the misunderstanding and avoid the execution?

Thomas Called Jesus God
The disciple Thomas (the doubting Thomas) saw Jesus resurrected and exclaimed, “My God” (John 20:28) to Jesus.

We were Purchased with God's Blood
Paul explained how God purchased the Church with his own blood (Acts 20:28).

The biblical references settled what was already in our hearts. Christ is God.

But why is is so necessary for us that Christ IS God? Isn't it enough to just say Jesus is our Savior and not worry about connecting Who He is to God?

No that's not enough.

Think about why for our salvation, Christ has to be God:

Christ’s deity is necessary for our salvation! The very meaning of being a Christian is to recognize the sinful nature of our souls. We needed a Savior to pay the price for sin. And nothing but a perfect sacrifice would do. Only God Himself is perfect. Not a human son of God who isn't one with Him.
If Jesus wasn’t God, what kind of love would that show that the Father has for us? If you stood at the street while your children were caught in a burning house and asked someone to run in for you, would that be love? Did God send someone else into a burning house after us? No. No one but God Himself would be adequate. As our Father, God lowered Himself enough to come down here and take the punishment for us. That’s love. Enough to save us.

The lesson was over and we went on with our day with deeper appreciation of Who Christ is.

Then I had lunch with an old friend. This sweet brother in Christ told me the painful experience of having to go through divorce after his wife had cheated on him over and over. When he described the a awful moment when she was caught in her sin, tears came to his eyes. The evidence too great to deny. He had tried to forgive many times before, but this time the betrayal destroyed his trust in her completely. They both knew there was no turning back. The marriage was over.

It was a moment when she walked through the door and he had the evidence from an investigator there in his hands.

She saw it and collapsed on the floor in a blood-curdling scream, “Nooooooooooo!” The scream wasn’t a plea. She knew his character and that she had been given her last chance. He no longer trusted her. Too late. Over. Final. She left the house into the emptiness of no further relationship with him.

To hear the description of her scream made me shiver, but not just for her. I never met the poor woman. The tear was for others—for an image I had in my heart. An image of billions of souls standing before Jesus on that day knowing that they had denied him for so long that it was too late. No turning back. Each scream will be hundreds times worse than the woman who betrayed her husband. I cry now for those individuals and stop to remind myself, who is it we worship?

"You’ll Just Have to Find Something Else to be Afraid of.”

2010-06-28T14:58:00.016-04:00

Benaiah the son of Jehoiada, the son of a valiant man of Kabzeel, who had done many acts; he slew two lionlike men of Moab: also he went down and slew a lion in a pit in a snowy day.

1 Chronicles 11:22

Years ago, long before I was widowed, before I was even married to Tom, life threw a huge dose of pain my way. A marriage I thought was going to last me a lifetime went into a tailspin when an anonymous caller tipped me off to my first husband’s affair.

At that horrible moment, I would never have imagined how the Lord was preparing the way for a new life, a new marriage, and strengthening me for a far deeper loss by teaching me never to fear being alone.

My first reaction was to drop the receiver and dash out of my office into the cool October air to catch my breath.

I didn’t stop there. I got in my car and drove away, beating back tears. With nowhere to go, I stopped at a phone booth and called Joyce—my no-nonsense, stay cool through any storm friend.

I sobbed over the betrayal. “This is my worst fear and now it’s happened!”

There was a pause on the other end while I knew Joyce prayed over what words to use. The ones that slipped off her tongue might strike you as uncaring or rude, but they were perfect. “Well, I guess you’ll just have to find something else to be afraid of.”

I wiped my tears and let her words sink in. All those years I tried to be the best wife to that man, but secretly harbored a sense that he had one foot out the door. Was I making every decision to please him out of faith or fear? What wasted time and effort! Had I faced my fear and stopped placating to him, he might have respected me more and considered changing his heart towards making a strong marriage. Or maybe not, but at least I would have been operating as the complete woman God made me to be and not have a nagging feeling that my jellyfish spine had something to do with my marriage falling apart.

Now, without Tom, I never want to avoid my worst fears and set myself up for future regret.

When people ask “what’s your worst fear?” Some think of loss or trauma, but if we’re honest, sometimes it isn’t the big stuff that we fear the most. After all, as widows, we’ve already experienced some of the worst. Our real fears are rooted in insecurity, wondering if we’re good enough or accepted.

When Joyce told me I need to find something else to be afraid of, I chose God. I never wanted anything in life to shake me to the core like the betrayal from my first husband did. I wanted to be absolutely positive that I knew who I was at the core of my being so that whatever is going on around me, I still feel accepted, cherished, powerful.

And I do. Oh, the deceiver tries to scare that sense of confidence away, but I know the signs of his presence. It’s that gnawing anxiety…. I’m alone, I’m overwhelmed, my kids don’t have a father. Are they getting what they need?

In my bible lessons this week I learned about a great soldier of David’s named Benaiah. He was courageous. Courage means doing what needs to be done in spite of your fears. Can you imagine the fear he had to overcome to get into a snowy pit and kill a lion with his bare hands?

So back to anxieties. When they whirl, I say…

Stop.

These are feelings. They aren’t truth. I stop, and I refocus on Scripture. On truth. I am incredible and loved in the Lord. Through Him, I’m unstoppable, because He does all I can’t. He will be the father of my boys, my husband. He cherishes me and loves me and I will respond with obedience. I will ignore the anxious thoughts—endure them as a sort of pain like a steady leg cramp and get to work… one foot in front of the other. I will act accordingly to His grace. I will do all those things I would do as if I were loved and cherished, not because I feel loved or cherished but because I know I am loved and cherished. It’s truth, and I believe it, so my feet and hands and mouth follow my beliefs, in spite of any lingering anxiety the deceiver tosses at me.

I stop pacing the house and do what I'm asked to do. Clean up my office, get back into the Word, spend time with the kids. Sometimes it's just grabbing a deck of cards and hanging out with the boys. I pull out five bibles—one for each of us, put on some Christian music, and have quiet reading time in the Word with the boys followed by prayers.

And guess what, the boys LOVE it. “Thanks, Mom. Can we do this every day?” My heart fills with centered clean joy. I’m back. I remembered who I am.

The world sees widow, but when I remember who I am, in that moment, I’m not the pitiful widow. I’m Kitty, a woman of God.

Brother's Day

2010-06-20T12:49:00.005-04:00

It's Father's Day. Around our home that means Brother's Day. We started this tradition after we lost Tom a few years ago. Our first Father's Day without him was difficult, but we made the best of it by making cards and letters expressing our feelings for him and getting out in the beautiful sunshine to enjoy the type of things that Dad used to do with us.

When the second Father's Day rolled around, I figured it was time for a fresh approach. We came up with Brother's Day. Here's how it works. I let the boys sleep in while I prepare their Brother's Day breakfast in bed. This morning it was french toast with sausages and OJ.

The breakfast trays are prepared with colorful messages from me with one particular character trait each one has shown in the past year that reminds me of their father.

And finally, I write a letter to each one of the children explaining that character trait, how I saw it shown in the past year, and how their father had that same trait in him.

My boys are beginning to look forward to Father's / Brother's Day, and I pray that it inspires them to earn their rights to have Father's Day breakfasts in bed when they are old enough to rear a family God's way!

We're not done after breakfast. They boys consider our chocolate lab puppy a brother too, so after church we're off to a hike with the dog.

Church on Father's Day is always tough on a widow. I'll most likely choose to sit near the back and step outside when I feel myself missing the presence of a husband in the home.

The Widow Ruth

2010-06-07T13:21:00.000-04:00

Through these he has given us his very great and precious promises, so that through them you may participate in the divine nature and escape the corruption in the world caused by evil desires. 2 Peter 1:4.

Sometimes thriving in life as a widow means listening to how God wants you to participate in His divine nature. It’s different for each of us because a widow’s walk is never carved in stone. The Lord asks some of us to weather it quietly—grieving and accepting the loss as your heart allows you to—one step at a time. The Lord sometimes asks us to move forward boldly, letting go of fear so that through our boldness, we protect the younger ones He has put in our care from the corruption in the world.
When the Lord leads you to step forward boldly, you might have fear over what the world thinks of you as you as you move forward and lead your own life into the future without leaning on an earthly husband. I think of the widow, Ruth, and her obedience to the Lord and how it led to bold steps on her part, choosing to remain with her mother-in-law, choosing to gather grain behind the harvesters in Boaz’s fields, and presenting herself to Boaz in a humble but brazen gesture to petition him to claim her as his wife.

Ruth was brave, and yet so loved by the Lord for her obedience that He blessed her by allowing the bloodline of His only Son to run through her.
Imagine how fear could grip a woman in her situation faced with deciding whom to align herself with, how to provide for herself, and whether to pursue a new marriage. As a widow, you might feel it too. Widowhood can be a life full of fear if you allow yourself to get overwhelmed.
I’m reminded today to stop fear in its tracks for it is not from the Lord. I consider what my pastor told me after he took three of my sons on a Gettysburg Father-son retreat. He reassured me that decisions I’ve made since Tom has died have been good ones, evidenced by a Christ awareness my kids displayed on that trip with him. He told me my children seem to have no trouble going against the grain of the world. In other words, under my leadership which came straight from the guidance of the Lord, for the time being, they have escaped “the corruption in the world caused by evil desires”.
The Lord sometimes speaks through the words of blessings from others, and my pastor’s words were well-timed at a moment when I felt overwhelmed. I marvel at their progress, because many times my decisions go against the grain of this world, to the point of coming under scrutiny of others who aren’t sure what to think when a widow steps out in boldness. Some don’t understand that my choices are not my own. I’ve allowed the Lord to lead.
Sometimes people of the world want to tell you how as a widow you’ve been beaten. You’ve suffered loss. You’re supposed to recoil, curl up in a ball and feel sorry for yourself.
There is that place where you need to be alone and recover. And sometimes that can take a while, but there was a point after Tom died where the Lord told me, grieve but don’t recoil. Break free. Burst forth in radiance because my four boys will watch and follow. They will be marked forever in their souls by the choices I make as a widow.
They will either see themselves as victims or see themselves as stepping forward by following and staying safely inside the Eye of the storm—accepting that what Satan doles out with the intention of evil, God takes and turns around for His Glory.
If you feel a prompting in your heart to follow a purpose the Lord has laid out for you, I encourage you to pray about it. Don’t let fear stop you. Let the peace that only comes from the Holy Spirit prevail over you. He will lead you. It’s His great and precious promise.

Not Intimidated!

2010-04-14T23:56:00.002-04:00

Don't hold back—you're not going to come up short. You'll forget all about the humiliations of your youth, and the indignities of being a widow will fade from memory.

Isaiah 54-4

When I used to work in the corporate world, I had a friend who was a mover and a shaker. By now, I’m quite sure Ed is a CEO somewhere in this universe.

Ed’s motto was don’t ask permission. Do what you’ve got to do and apologize for it later! He wasn’t a rule breaker, but Ed found success at every corner because people knew whatever he touched was going to get done and in a big way.

Christian, my eight-year-old, has the same motto. I like the way he thinks. When I took the boys to the local theme park, Carowinds, he was determined to ride the new roller coaster… The Intimidator. Never mind that he’s about four inches shy of the height requirement!

Here he is standing as tall as he can with every trick in the book—tall Healey roller shoes that add about an inch and two hats stacked tall on his head. The Carowinds official measured him and sadly shook his head while choking back his laugh.

Christian didn’t give up, he went to Top Gun next, and then the BORG Assimilator—two of the biggest coasters in the park. Every time a park official with a big measuring stick shook his head, Christian smiled and stepped away, undaunted.

“You’ll just have to eat your green vegetables,” I said.

Christian has since become a connoisseur of snap peas and carrots. “I’ll keep trying,” he says. “If I keep trying, someone will think I’m tall enough.”

I thought about Christian and Ed.

Then I thought about us ladies who have to take on life with unexpected challenges, like doing it alone when you thought you’d always have your husband by your side.

Sometimes, I think the world expects us to fold, to ask permission for steps we have to take to move forward. I suppose I don’t think so, I know so. I remember a decision I made a year after Tom died. I chose to build that sun porch Tom and I always wanted to build.

I had a close friend question me on it. She worried over my decision to spend the money, and took it upon herself to discuss it among our circle of friends. It shook me up for a bit, not because I wondered whether my decision was sound, but because I wondered whether our friendship could endure her criticism. It’s a sad reality but some friendships don’t survive when you loose your husband. When you move forward as head of the household, you might find friends and loved ones unaccustomed to seeing you take on that role. But you can’t hide behind a husband anymore. You have to become your own mover and shaker.

So I built the sun porch without anyone’s permission but God’s. And guess what? He blessed it. I didn’t even have to apologize for it later! I’ve had it for two years now and the boys love it. We have it wired with a flat screen and a DVD and it becomes movie central for the kids in the neighborhood on summer nights. I consider it one of the best decisions we made in these years without Tom.

Lord, Please continue to guide me as I lean on You for direction. When I seek permission, let it be You and only You I seek it from. Help me to have the courage to act on Your guidance and not worry about the crowds, just as Christian kept walking unabashed to one ride official after another, going after his goal.

I pray for every woman having to step into that role as head of household, that she know she has You to turn to in all things.

Thinking about She Speaks? Get out there and go!

2010-03-26T17:42:00.002-04:00

Lysa TerKeurst at Proverbs 31 Ministries challenged us bloggers to tell you exactly why the Proverbs 31 She Speaks Conference is well worth attending. From the bottom of my heart, I want to encourage you to go. The lessons and sisterly connections you'll make will last a lifetime. Have you thought about it?

Well, what are you waiting for? I bet you feel those butterflies in your belly. It’s Someone telling you to go! Don’t question it.

I’ve been to She Speaks twice now, and I have to tell you, it’s life changing. The Writers Track takes you through the complete experience of writing and even places you smack dab in front of publishers if you are so inclined to step up to the plate. And guess what? They even have a training session to tell you how to handle your few minutes with that publisher! The Speakers Track connects you to a She Speaks ministry leader and eight peers and has you honing your skill of speaking in front of an audience.

I would tell you it’s not for the faint at heart—but it’s for them too. She Speaks is all about taking women like you and me and helping us see what it is we have inside of us that God can use, and then ripping away the excuses. Not being able to write—then learn to write. Perfect the skill. Too shy to speak—then speak up. Practice it. Get out there. Learn from the best.

At my first conference, I had just lost my husband to a heart attack. I wasn’t sure how I ended up sitting in a huge conference and in front of publishers, but before I knew it, agents and publishers were encouraging me to produce a manuscript. And before long, this incredible ministry came out of my heart, honed by mentors I met through She Speaks. Now I’m writing for a Proverbs 31 blog, A Widow’s Might.

Those butterflies in my heart, the same ones you have, turned into speaking, blogging, ministering, and even a fiction novel that’s getting closer and closer to finalizing. Thank you Proverbs 31.

So I bet I’ve convinced readers who haven’t gone yet to sign up! You might ask, why would I need to go again after already attending twice. Oh, do I need to go again! First of all, I need to learn more about blogging and marketing, now that my novel is getting close. I need the contacts in the business. I can’t wait to jump to the next experience level in speaking. And most of all, I want to give back.

Since that first year at She Speaks, so many authors, editors, publishers, agents, bloggers and Proverbs 31 leaders have mentored me. And I’ve grown. My quality of writing and speaking has gone through the roof, and my confidence with it. I’m so ready to step out and use these gifts for God. One of the ways is to help other starting writers at the conference. I want to reach out and help them, tell them the secrets that I was craving two years ago. I can help other new authors like me grow with me.

I’ve already started teaching writing to teens, and now I’m encouraging the girls in that teen group to come to She Speaks this summer too. It’s not always about just honing our skills, ladies. It’s about training up a new generations to lead women into the greatest adventures in life!

Are you ready to be a part of it?

The Dream: True Love

2010-02-15T18:03:00.017-05:00

Rachel Olsen, from Proverbs 31 Ministries, is doing a Devotion Carnival in honor of Valentines Day with the topic of Love. Check her page out so see all the wonderful writers who have contributed! This devotion has been written in my heart for years. Thank you, Rachel, for bringing the motivation to get it out on paper!

Have you ever felt presented like a radiant church, blameless and holy? Isn’t that what we long for as women when we say we want to feel loved? Have you ever felt it? I mean felt it so deep in your soul that the memory of that moment never left you?

“and to present her to himself as a radiant church, without stain or wrinkle or any other blemish, but holy and blameless.” Ephesians 5:27 (NIV)

It's how I felt by the end of that evening. It was an elegant setting in someone’s home with everyone dressed so pretty and just the right lighting and music. A perfect evening, until a strangely awkward moment.

It wasn't the guests. They were full of their usual fun and wit.
It was me. Somehow, that night, I wasn't in the mood.

I hoped no one would notice my coolness. I did my best to blend in with my conversation.
No one seemed to notice. They were all preoccupied by someone who captured all the attention at the party.

I stepped closer, but couldn’t see who it was—my view blocked by the crowd.

Guests arranged couches and chairs from the living room close around him so they could lean in and hear. His voice, soft and elegant, had a gentle authority that amazed everyone. They hung onto his every word.

I couldn’t quite hear. I stretched high on my toes to peer over the crowd and strained my neck every which way to see around his admirers.

No avail. People packed so close around him.

Thinking I could subtly ease my way into the group, I looked for an opening. None. No point in trying. There’s no room for me. I settled into a chair against the far wall and tried to grab some precious words the man was saying.
The crowd kept me from hearing. Eager people chimed in with opinions, apparently finding some connection between his stories and their own. All I saw was their excitement. I never got to hear what the man had to say. I sat back in my chair feeling rather discouraged.

As if the speaker read my thoughts—noticed someone left out, he stopped talking and lifted his head in my direction. The crowd obediently pulled apart an opening so he could see me. All eyes were on me.
I sat up, not sure what to expect.

His eyes locked with mine in a penetrating, loving, and inviting gaze that said, I know you!

A rush of sound passed over my ears. My heart fluttered. I stopped breathing for a moment that gave me a “love-at-first-sight” heart leap.

I knew exactly Who He was. His warmth overwhelmed and woke me.

I sat up in the morning light, eyes wide, knowing exactly Who had just looked straight in them. Those eyes. I couldn’t shake them. They stay with me, everyday. It’s what thrills me and drives me. Never leaves me.

It’s true love.

Dear Lord,

When we talk about true love, help us all to know Who invented it. Who loved us so much that He died for us. Who washes us and makes us radiant and holy. Who takes our breath away. Give us those butterflies and make us feel who we are in You—captivating.

Christi Redeemer

2009-12-15T05:59:00.035-05:00

We were in a little Cessna flying over Rio de Janeiro. It was breathtaking—the hillsides, the boats on the blue water with snow white beaches, the little villas, the Catholic churches with ornate steeples, the Christi Redeemer, and the lush green forests. It was picture perfect clear visibility, and then...

A bank of clouds. We were cloaked in white, and it was only my sister and I in a single engine plane. We hardly knew how to operate the thing, much less without visual flight rules. Panic rose inside me.

Enough panic to wake me from my dream. I wasn’t in Brazil. I might visit a close friend there soon, but I'm not crazy enough to fly around in a Cessna with my sister!

So why did the dream leave me uneasy this morning? I thought about two women in my life, both undergoing scary procedures today.

One has an outpatient procedure to figure out why her throat keeps closing in which gives her scary episodes of blocked breathing, and another with a inflammation in her lymph nodes embedded around her lungs. It could mean a dangerous disease. Both women are mothers with beautiful children who need them just as my children need me.

Illness can hit anyone out of the blue like the bank of clouds in my dream. That's scary in itself, but imagine these women having to trust doctors while they are put under. It's like turning off your visual controls in an airplane and trusting the air traffic controllers.

4:30 AM. Their surgeries would be in a few hours. You think, maybe my dream was a call to pray?

Lord, please carry my two friends today as they go through their tests and surgeries. Keep them and their families confident in it all. These procedures take place everyday all around the country and the doctors are well practiced. Nevertheless, only part of the confidence comes from their skill. Most of our confidence is in Your Sovereignty, Lord. Lord, I ask for Your special Presence in those operating rooms, and that these ladies and their families feel that Presence and are covered in warm confidence by It. That You walk them through every moment of the procedures and move the hands that work on them with such delicate balance that the procedure gives them answers they need and does it in such a way that they are free of pain once the procedures are over— that they recover quickly and have answers from the tests. Answers that put them on roads to solutions that will have them living their lives and mothering their children just as they did before their health issues began in the first place. I love these families, and I love You, Lord, and I pray humbly believing. Amen.

Amazing how I could then go back to sleep having accomplished what He woke me to do. Praying for others relaxes your own heart and gives you rest in Him. We are carried in His hands and our protection is ultimately with Him, not in this world.

"We have the best Christmas family!"

2009-12-08T20:54:00.034-05:00

Aren't these words every mom wants to hear? Can you believe I had the joy of hearing this from my eight year old on Sunday evening?

With Christmas music blaring over speakers throughout the house, the four boys and I were on our fifth hour of putting up the Christmas decorations. I was just marveling at how few arguments the boys had, and how the whole day they stayed focus on the fun of the lights and holly. No one grumbled. Everyone helped. "How is that?" I asked myself, remembering some of the arguments my brothers and sisters and I had while putting up decorations long ago.

I don't pretend that the future might hold something very different. You never know what will be when there are four boys in the mix. But for now, we so incredibly blessed. So blessed.

So blessed. Those words ran through my head just as Christian, as if to read my mind, looked up from his string of colored lights and said, "Mom, we have the best Christmas family ever!"

"Why is that, Christian," I asked, partly wanting to figure out what's in this child's head to make him say such a random sweet thought, but secretly wanting to find answers myself.... why is it, after the heavy blow our family took two years ago, we feel truley happy right now? How?

"Because we only ask Santa for one present," Christian answered with a matter-of-fact smile.

From the mouths of babes. That was Tom's legacy. Appreciate what we have on our plates and don't demand more. Just choose to be happy.

Tom and I unplugged that Christmas machine years ago, and decidedly made Christmas cozy and light. It started years ago when Tom's teenagers told me something that rang true for me. Christmas became a disappointment when they became teens. It's only normal - the way people are wired. When you start young kids off on a diet of present after present after present... mostly affordable toys, they begin to find the glow of Christmas only in the shine from the foil wrapping. Once the toys for teenagers get more expensive, there aren't as many. Less foil, less fun.

That's because it was the wrong fun.

It was bling. Empty bling. That's why we unplugged the bling. Now everyone gets one present. Two if you include Santa! Hey, with four boys, that's already eight gifts, and they're just as happy sharing their toys with each other... it's still fun!

Meanwhile, here's some other benefits! No more panicking at 1 in the morning on Christmas because we hadn't gotten all those presents wrapped! Less shopping. No demands from the kids. In fact, now that the boys only get one or two gifts, they don't even make lists. They start to, and then stop and smile and say, "no, just surprise me!" And best of all, the presents they get are quality. Like a puppy, or a cell phone, or a cotton candy maker. Something that can be and is used all year round.

I know what I want this year for Christmas. For my boys to keep that family bond, forever!

Lord, please give me one gift this Christmas. Protection. Protect the family bonds we have. I love it Lord, that the boys each have three best friends- each other. They have many other friends, but they love their home. It's safe, it's happy. Please Lord, don't give me more, just keep blessing me with what You've already given me!

Merry Christmas!

Here are some of the snapshots that didn't make it on the card this year...

* * *

Shhhhh, quiet... I'm chasing God's Whisper!

2009-11-03T22:38:00.008-05:00

After the earthquake came a fire, but the LORD was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper.

1 Kings 19:12

Did you ever have a mini Elijah moment. I could never compare myself to someone as God fearing and gifted as Elijah, but I’m talking about a mini-moment, where I could relate to the vulnerability in Elijah and needing to go to the mountaintop to be with God. Reginna Dettra has a blog party going on today where she's asking us to give us our thoughts on God whispers. You can flip on over and check out other writings on the story in 1 Kings. Here's where the Elijah moment touched me recently.

One Sunday morning I was in that moment. I guess I was thinking about how my life has been so busy with the boys lately that I hadn't been out as much. There I was, busy in a kitchen with a dirty pan full of bacon grease and four boys telling me how great the scrambled eggs were. “You’re the greatest, Mom.”

The greatest. I thought of the romantic embraces I used to get from my husband on Sunday mornings when he made the Sunday breakfasts. Of course they think I’m great- I’m their mom. There are moments when I just want another adult around!

I tried to turn my attention back to the dishes. To forget and focus on the job at hand. God asked me why I hid in my cave. . What are you doing here? I knew He wanted me to get out of my house and come to His. I left the dishes in the sink and went to church with the boys.

I walked up to the church entry feeling particularly vulnerable. Like I wanted to talk to a friend-- to feel normal again. In the doorway, an angelic looking blonde woman stopped me, “Didn’t you speak at the church a couple of weeks ago?”

Yes I had. Just a quick testimony about God's comfort in my loss.

She was so kind. Her three practically perfect looking blonde children, all dressed neatly, darted around her legs. “It really touched me..” she added, “I’m in a tough place and I needed to hear.....”

Just then, one of my friends walked up, “HI, KITTY!    WHAT’VE YOU BEEN DOING THIS WEEKEND!   WE MISSED YOU!”   I’m writing in capital letters because, unlike the little blonde woman, this friend is bold. Not a bad bold—bold in a good way. In a way which makes her well liked at my church- just so much fun with a wonderfully powerful positive presence.   In my vulnerability, I turned to my friend and soaked in her attention, imagining God, Himself, shouting at me, I LOVE YOU, through this woman.  It felt so good. Like a salve, covering the lonely hole exposed by a weekend of no social life, just me and the kids.

Guilt nagged at me as the blonde had disappeared somewhere into the building while I chatted with my friend. She's a godly woman, but God wasn’t calling me to be at church for her brazen praises. As I sat down in the sanctuary, the loneliness of not sitting next to a husband lingered in my heart and followed me back to the car. Most everyone had left the church grounds.

Everyone but three neatly dressed blonde children prancing about the front door. Go see her. I felt the whisper deep in my soul.   I headed for the church.   The blonde walked by. I was about to stop her when another friend, Mike, stopped me to ask how I was doing. I didn’t want to be rude so I chatted, missing the woman again. Mike isn’t loud like my first friend, but he’s so well respected that Mike's reputation practically shouted without Mike himself being loud. Mike talks with everyone, but today, it felt like a God thing that he stopped to speak to me. Mike and I wrapped up our conversation, and he moved on, packing up his teaching kit from Sunday school and leaving for the parking lot.

I thought of how how empty I still felt after Mike left. No, as much as God works through Mike so often, God wasn’t shouting to me through him this morning either. God wouldn’t leave with Mike, He would fill the hole with living water so it would stop hurting.

The blonde passed me again in the hallway, this time heading for the exit, her back turned. Go to her. I knew that gentle whisper which guided me to the unassuming woman. I tapped her on the shoulder. “Hi, I’m really sorry I let myself get distracted from meeting you...”

She turned towards me, a sweet smile on her face. Her red swollen eyes told me she hung around the halls of the church for a reason.

My heart sank to hear that her husband was leaving her and her three small children. Her future uncertain, she declared, as sweet as can be, “but God is certain! Look how he brought us together to meet. I was hanging around the halls hoping to make a new friend,” she said. “I need to connect in this church now that my children and I will be alone. Jared, my oldest, needs a friend. He’s 9.”

We glanced out the front door of the building to see Jared and my 9 year old already playing. Instant friends. Soon we were exchanging numbers.

I walked back to my car finally filled... not by the approval of others, but by God Himself. I thought about how peacefully this lady accepted the table set before her. She admitted she was needing friendship and then sweetly asked for it. Wow was that soothing to me in a way that drowned out my thoughts about myself. All selfish ambitions… gone.

Shouts from the bold friends didn’t soothe me, but the humble admittance from the new meek one was the whisper from the Lord that I don’t need attention, I only need to remember who I am in His plan.

Thank you, Lord, for the whisper, sent through a pretty blonde with red swollen eyes.

Monkeys in Williamsburg

2009-10-21T15:59:00.002-04:00

When my friend, Lisa, from Phoenix, wanted to visit colonial Jamestown and Williamsburg, I had vivid memories of the place. In Richmond, where I grew up, those attractions were standard fare for fourth grade field trips. I already knew what fun the boys and Lisa's kids were in for. Here's a quick run down...

When you visit Williamsburg, you can rent costumes for the kids to wear. Christian and Lisa's boy, Colby, were regular colonial boys with their haversacks, rifles, hats and colonial shirts. These two looked like identical twins when Colby lived here three years ago. Especially as four year olds when they both sucked their middle two fingers the same way! Colby has since filled out much more than Christian has. Christian is still a skinny picky eater, but they still could pass for brothers! Colby's sister, Charlotte, wore the colonial girl's costume. What a darling!

Next we headed down Duke of Gloucester Street, Of course the kids had to stop at the stockades. It's no fun unless they get to lock up us parents!

At the Capital Building, the kids learned where the seeds of our separation of powers started. Would you believe that the members of one of the legislative houses were also the justices on the highest court handling all appeal cases? Surprised us adults, but the kids were more interested in how first time offenders got to choose to go free if they allowed themselves to be branded.. "T" for Thief. Ouch!

We stopped at the magazine, where the kids got to join the militia. Here's Colby getting strict instructions from his sergeant on how to properly handle his gun.

We couldn't tear those boys away from watching the blacksmith. I'm thinking I better be careful. They were so fascinated that if I don't watch what they're doing, they might try forging something in our garage!

Finally we lunched at the King's Tavern. Hot soup and cider were welcomed by all of us. Temperatures were in the frigid forties. What a shock for Lisa and her kids after seasonal temperatures around the nineties in Phoenix! Something about cold temperatures while site seeing is just fine with us, though. It makes the whole experience more memorable!

Coming back home was nice, but something about being on vacation is just so relaxing. Lisa's telling me she hopes her good mood will last. I see what she means. I'd like to think we could just hold on to those peaceful moments with no pressure but to take in the sites and learn!

Ten Crazy Time Saving Ideas for Moms with Boys

2009-10-14T06:59:00.005-04:00

Okay, so my friend, Hillary, over at www.theothermama.com wants me to post something crazy. Check out her list, she's pretty crazy all the time, and I love to read what she's up to! Flat out running all the time, I feel like I'm always a bit crazy myself. So here are some of the crazy ways I manage a household of four boys as a single mom. Hope they make you smile. Maybe you'll think something in here is so crazy it just might work for you!

One.... the Box O Sox.... Once we find a volume discount, we get 40 IDENTICAL pairs of sox, and get rid of all other boy socks in the house. Voila! We never need to match. We keep them clean with a good dose of bleach in the wash and toss each clean sock into the same box- no pairing no rolling, no sorting!

Two... I Mark my Territory in Pink... I remember looking over at my stepson's feet when he lived with us years ago. "Mike, why do you have my Anne Taylor socks on?" He didn't know any better, they were an elegant coffee color. I learned my lesson. When I want something left alone, I get it in pink or at least with dash of pink flowers. Pink's not my favorite color, but wow it repels boys! My cell phone skin, my Macbook cover, my socks, my hoodie--all pink! Pink chases away boys faster than spiders chase away girls!

Three... I'll be in the car! Learned this from a genius mom at a dentist office years ago. With four school aged kids in the waiting room, she stood up and announced, "kids, I'll be in the car." With that, she calmly left without looking back. I was shocked. How could she leave them like that? Actually, I was a bit jealous, and soon I knew why she had such confidence. Within seconds, the kids calmly put away their coloring books, arranged their backpacks, and were out the door only steps behind Mom. No whining, nagging, or fighting. I adopted her ways from then on. I still pinch myself- it works! I never have trouble getting the kids gathered up to leave. Just lead. When it comes down to it, kids really want to follow you.

Four... Assembly Line Groceries: It's tough enough clipping all the coupons and keeping up with shopping for five. So when I get home, I leave the unloading to the boys. They turn it into fun. When I hear them shout, "ASSEMBLY LINE", I get curious and peak in on them. This is what I find... the oldest grabbing the bags from the car, knotting the handles so nothing falls out, tossing it to the second oldest who's riding a scooter and scoots over to the third who's standing in the back doorway and handing it over to the youngest who brings it to the kitchen counter. Once the car's empty, they form their next assembly line to the refrigerator or pantry. In case you're worried, by now I've gotten wise enough to carry the eggs and bread in myself!

Five... Videogamerama Kitchen Clean Up: Years ago Dad showed them where they can find dozens of audioclips from their favorite video games - like Mario Brothers or Sonic the Hedgehog. They take turns switching the clips on the kitchen computer from one to another while they work as a team to clean up in the style of the clip. When Mario's swimming clip comes on, the younger ones "swim" through the counters as they wipe. When the sped up clip comes on, they rush like little madmen to get the kitchen done.

Six... Count Your Age Pick Up: With four boys and a puppy chocolate lab (who takes those 'indestructible' dog toys as a challenge, chewing them into a thousand pieces within about 20 minutes), I do have my moments where I simply have to have a picked up house. When I'm at the point, I simply shout out "Count your age pick up!" The boys rocket into action, grabbing objects that need picking up (from bits of trash to books that need to be shelved), counting as many as their age. Within seconds, the house looks fresh and clean!

Seven... Secret Hideout Devotion Time: We find a special nook in the house for devotions, like an empty closet we can all fit in (including the dog). We take our flashlights and a lit laptop and huddle together to make the moment special. I love this not just because it gets us feeling warm and cozy, but also it keeps the younger ones from having too much space and wrestling around. We can actually get some cool discussions going on.

Eight... Brotherly Love Bucks: Occasionally we'll resurrect a form of allowance that's based on heart. Each day they have the opportunity to "earn" extra rewards through character. Oh, they have to do their schoolwork, chip in with chores, and practice their violin, anyway, but if they have a cheerful heart, they earn dividends on top of it. The icing on the cake is the brotherly love buck. They get together and vote, and only one of the four boys gets the buck. As they cast their vote, they have to explain what that brother did to earn their brotherly love buck.

Nine... Fiddling Around: I wanted the boys learning an instrument, and when they didn't seem to have a particular one in mind, I figured why not streamline- just make violin part of their school routine. What a crazy blessing now. When they get really rambunctious and I need to whip the house in shape, I send them all in the backyard with their violins. They've figured out on they're own how to play songs together and have a blast. The oldest now plays "Devil Went Down to Georgia" and all of them can play a decent Swallowtail Jig together. Other times, like right now, as I'm typing, they decided they all HAVE to practice their violin at the same time, and my house becomes a funky cacophony of four fiddles. Cracks me up!

Ten... Buddy Brothers: From an early age, I paired up the brothers. The oldest with the third, and the second oldest with the youngest. Makes my life sane and keeps the boys mentoring each other. At a restaurant when someone needs to go to the bathroom we simply say, "Buddy Brother" and right away, that little guy's big buddy walks him to the bathroom

Hope these were fun to read. By now you either think I'm nuts or maybe you have a peek at how I survive with my sense of humor intact! Blessings!