The Power's Out (One part of my testimony, read at your own risk)

Lord have mercy! No really He does. He has more than mercy. I want to share a story with you this morning about what His mercy looks like. Bear with me for a moment, and just imagine this scene.

It's nighttime and you're all snuggly warm under the covers reading a good book. There's a slight breeze outside, nothing of consequence, just a peaceful whispering that compliments the story you're in to.  You're at the climax of the chapter just before the best part where a huge secret is revealed, then it happens. As you turn the page you hear a pulse in the power lines and bam! The whole world around you is thrown into complete darkness.

Now, you're not worried because the surroundings are so familiar. It's your bedroom right? So you know it like the back of your hand. I mean you could probably draw a diagram of it blindfolded. You close you're eyes, because you're a visual person, and try to remember where you put the flashlight. Grasping at the first shelf of your bookcase you feel around for the little light you were sure was there, and nothing. No big deal. There's a candle so you start feeling around for a lighter or matches. You grab what feels like a lighter, but it's only one of the kids pens they left in your room when you weren't paying attention. Ok no lighter that's fine, but now you have a slight urgency to go to the bathroom. You have to get up. Trying one more time your hand goes searching across the bookshelf next to you for a light to no avail. Now you're getting irritated. You were sure it was right there to be depended on in darkness.  You get out of bed and make your way to the bathroom, slowly, through a minefield of lego pieces and dog toys you had easily avoided in the light.

Humor me ok there is a point to this.

So now you're in the bathroom. Sitting, well you know where, all vulnerable  and thinking I know there's a cabinet above me. You try to picture it, strategically rising to avoid it and blam! You hit your head right on the corner. Now you're fuming. There's no light, you can't finish your book, and your head might be bleeding but you can't tell because there's no light. Using cold water to wash your hands you prepare to head back to bed and because you're angry and in pain you rush this time thinking you don't care how many legos you step on. You just.want.bed. That's when it happens... you trip over the dog and faceplant.... right next to your bed. When you reach your hands in front of you to sit up that's when you feel the outline of the maglite next to your bed. It was there the whole time. Tears fill your eyes because you're so tired at this point, but you crawl into bed and go to sleep bruised ego, bruised body, broken heart and mad at yourself.  The next morning all you can do is laugh when you look back on the scene because the whole thing was ridiculous.

This was the visual I got this morning during quiet time.

Ten years ago my life was at a point of chaos. I had been hopeful of certain expectations and discouraged by the appearance of how it was playing out. Though I knew that God had been so faithful in the recent past i'd become tunnel visioned, like when you get into a book and can't be distracted easily. You see my mother was dying and choosing to remain in an abusive situation in her own home. (That is an entirely different blog post) Everything appeared out of control and that there was nothing that I could do to help the situation. At the time I was a believer, working at a church and never attending. I read my bible occasionally as a consolation, but most of the time I spent reading kids' versions to them as I worked in the nursery.

In an attempt to force a distraction I went to college thinking that would help. Things only became more stressful and over the next year and a half I was angry, smoking two packs a day, drinking a ton of coffee and trying to fix everything myself. Finally, I failed at something I thought I was really good at. After being made a fool of in front of my entire english class I had my first panic attack ever. I thought I was dying.

Now God being God and loving me the way He does, He sent a special man to be a part of the paramedic team that took me to the hospital that day. It was my 2nd grade teacher. When I looked up and called him Mr. Barber the other paramedics started teasing him relentlessly.  At least I felt safe and He was a great comfort to me that day. However the shame I felt when Greg came to get me was unbearable. I decided I was crazy and resolved that I would do whatever it took to be as normal as possible. For the record, Greg never thought I was crazy, but this was all very hard for him.

(If you're tired of reading by now I'd just like to encourage you to finish this story because of the really, really, really good ending. Hopefully your power doesn't go out. ;)

I went to an MD who declared that other than being perfectly healthy I had hidden depression. In time I ran right back to his office to have him get me off the meds. Now, i'm not against meds for everyone, but for me they were NOT.GOOD.  They had made me feel crazier than ever. Having a closer look at the exam room this time I noticed that the entire thing was littered with advertising for the drug he'd given me. A clock, notepads, pens, a desk pad.... that should have been my first clue. So I made an appointment for a psychiatrist down the street and declared myself insane. We had one appointment. I walked in and told him I was nuts. He took one look at me and said..."Well the good news is that people who are nuts usually don't know that they are. You're not crazy." Finally. Hope. Two more weeks later when I went in for a check up at the MD, and the entire office was cleaned out. They had closed permanently. Creep.

Then things really got bezerk.  I became pregnant with our second child, my husband got laid off, then my mom finally let us move in with her and care for her because "we had no place to go". Let me tell you that 3 years was both the most precious time and the worst hell of my life. After my mother died I was finally convinced to seek counseling for the first time, and it was the best thing I ever did. The counselor helped me see that panic attacks were caused by unresolved anger and fear brewing for a loooooong time and finally erupting in a spiral of hopelessness. We covered over every situation past and present with God's healing truth. Greg and I started attending church and bible study and slowly but surely everything healed over beautifully. I thought I had it all taken care of for the rest of my life. Until last week.

It had been 10 wonderful years since a panic episode. From the outside my life has been looking nice and tidy. Then last Monday night on my way to bible study it happened. My awesome group prayed over me and I thought I was out of the water. Then Tuesday morning during kickboxing it was like a tidal wave. It wouldn't stop. I tried to talk myself out of it to no avail. God even provided a safe face when a sister from church suddenly showed up in class right next to me. Wednesday I forced myself to go workout and was ok until right at the end of my workout. Then walking out of the YMCA I saw the verse of the day..."Fear not for I am with you, be not dismayed for I am your God." Are you kidding me? I had just read that verse that morning!  Thursday I had a counseling appointment and thought I was saved, but after going home and sitting down to watch a movie with my family I had another one. I started believing the lie again that I will never heal from this. Then it got worse. I can't even begin to tell you all the other things that were going on in the background of my week. The information is too sensitive and I have to respect all parties involved, but suffice it to say that some traumatic events both happened to me, were revealed, and were reminded of this week. Then several of my close friends had overwhelming , this is not an exaggeration, tragedies of their own. My empathy got the best of me. It was like being thrust into the threshold of hell again. The pinnacle of all of this was an announcement to my precious family that they were not to be sensitive to me about it and I was to get over it. I was furious with myself and God and everything. That's when truth came. I remembered why they happen. Unresolved anger.

I really wish I could pour my heart out and tell you why I've felt so angry and helpless. I've been mad at myself and a handful of other people. I've not communicated it in a healthy way and so here I've been for the last week in a mad funk with no end in sight... but then piece by piece the Lord began to unravel it. This morning I wrote to him:

"You Lord have come to remind me what it means to fix my eyes on You. Forgive me for stumbling around in the darkness for a time instead of shining the light of your truth over each seemingly hopeless situation."

See where the power outage visual comes in? Told you I had a point.

This time I'm grateful I saw the light sooner. I asked for prayer and was honest with close friends and family about what was happening. but that didn't solve everything. The panic has subsided, but I still have some things to deal with. This morning God wanted me to share this because maybe some of you out there are angry. Maybe you hold your feelings in because: you don't want to hurt or burden others with them, you feel ashamed of them or guilty for them. I want to encourage you that those things don't mean you are crazy, just that like me you are broken and need healing. You need to know that your feelings are valid and you need healthy ways to express them. You aren't going to get that by holding everything in and silently doing battle alone or trying to ignore your feelings away. Tell God, tell a safe person, tell a counselor, write it down. Get in the word, get in a small group, and pour truth over every situation alone with God and with other believers. Then receive freedom, receive forgiveness, forgive others, receive the love of God and His peace that passes all understanding.

Tonight I have the privilege of leading worship on Christmas eve. Trying to play Christmas carols on an instrument is maddening! However, singing those words of truth bring healing and freedom to my life in a way they never have before. I am grateful for the love of my God who came to rescue me from sin, for my husband who loves me in sickness and in health, for my children who love Jesus and are the greatest comediennes in all the land, and for my incredible friends who stand around me as shield bearers so that I can heal. God bless you each and every one and have a very peaceful Christmas!
                         
                               "For unto us a child is born,
                                     to us a son is given,
                                     and the government will be on his shoulders,
                                And he will be called
                                    Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
                                    Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
                                Of the increase of his government and peace
                                     there will be no end."

Tattoos...

Margie Snodgrass inspired this blogpost. Well, she's inspired a lot in my life. So has her husband Andy.

Let me begin by telling you that when I was 18 years old sitting at Fox Island Alliance Church on the right hand side, about the 7th row back aisle seat, Pastor Andy looked right into my soul and started talking about me to the WHOLE CHURCH! So rude... He started to tell the church that there was likely a person in attendance that day who thought that they were the exception to begin saved. That they believed that if there was some loophole that made their worth null and void to God they were it. He talked about how ashamed they were of what they had done in their lives and how unlovable they felt. How dare he?

I sat there in that row feeling powerless against those words. Of course he wasn't talking about me, but he was all at the same time. He went on to talk about the power of believing the lie that we've become so shameful that we think there is no way out; that God can come to a point of not loving us and giving up on us altogether. We can even come to a place of believing that God is mean or that there is no God at all.  Then Andy said those magic words: but there is NO loophole.

He presented the information that there was nothing I could ever do, or have ever done that would cause God to reject me if I accepted Jesus as my Saver and Savior. He said God sent HIS Son to die in my place for ALL the things I had done.  If you had any idea what those "things" in my life were, you would understand the incredible and shocking freedom of that news. That day I realized for the first time in 12 years that God didn't hate me among other things. It was absolutely incredible.   I'd love to share more with you privately about those things if you're in a place struggling. Who I was and where I'd been and what I'd done used to be a daily death sentence for me. Now I have a beautifully imperfect life, and I will not ever be the same.

Margie, I have 4 tattoos. One on my ankle started as a half of a heart with a cross inside it. I got that at 13. After that sermon of Andy's I went to an actual tattoo parlor and got it finished and had a butterfly added to my right shoulder representing the change in my life. More recently (three years ago ish) I added two more. My daughter Haylee drew them. One is her representation of the Holy Spirit on my wrist and one is the "he loves me, he loves me not" daisy on my right shoulder. If you look you can see there are just enough petals that it would end up that HE loves me. I need constant reminding. Since then I've wanted to add a few more.

If I could start over, I wouldn't have done it, but now that i'm here I haven't decided whether or not to go through with adding more. I don't want to be covered in them, and I want them to mean something... so there you go. :) Also, thank you Margie for always having a warm smile and gentle heart. Your kindness is something I will always remember from our time at FIA. :) <3 nbsp="" p="">

Things that make me happy...

It's really simple. The things that make me happy are really really simple. First of all I love my family of four and fur more than anything, and when they are wildly rhyming, rapping, dancing and carrying on or just being quiet draped all over each other on the couch watching documentaries... that makes me happy. Sunny fall days with crisp cool air and the faint smell of a smoky fire...that makes me happy. Candles make me happy, and little led lights that twinkle make me happy. When my husband smiles sideways at me it makes me happy, because I love the smile lines on his face. Those lines remind me of all the things it took in our life to create them. When other people overcome hardships, choose to believe truth, and use it to encourage others that makes me happy. Music makes me happy. Being with my friends makes me happy. Being a mom makes me happy. Driving alone...happy.

A lot of things make me happy. #goodreminders

Five Minutes Until Tomorrow.

There are new things on the horizon. My 35th year of life has come to a close, and the dawn of a new era begins. Not really, just the dawn of tomorrow morning and a new whole foods diet. I've tried several and discovered that yes I feel like crap when I eat junk food...and not when I eat whole foods. To be honest I don't care too much about the science of it, I just know it works. So there's that.

In other news, I've been reeling for the past several years with the mid-life blues off and on. I'm 36 I have a 16 and 12 year old daughter who are both the joy of my heart and greatest challenger of my existence. I recently quit my job to home school them. Realizing that this resounds with complaint let me say that it's not a choice to be regretted. I only realized today that I don't like doing it, because I'm not very good at it. (Insecurity anyone?) It's true I must lean heavily on the Lord just to get by, but man I'd like to be an awesome teacher. In fact I'd like to be awesome at anything.

Perhaps the Lord is using this time in my life to weed out the ugly bitter roots of pride that are desperately clinging to the walls of my soul? Maybe He's using this time to show me how much I need Him in everything. He could be teaching me a lot of things. I'm just trying to listen...and it's hard. Life gets so distracting that His voice is faint, but when He has spoken it's been obvious. He's taught me: I need a passion and a purpose in Him, driven by Him alone. I must spend time quietly before Him in focused prayer and in the word, and I must NOT give up trying to know Him better and fighting the good fight for the kingdom.

However.... it.is.NOT.easy.

I am so tempted to give up and give in to the world around me. To throw my kids back on the bus and let someone else tell them how to live. To stop trying to follow the example of Christ's life by loving others instead of judging. He even lets me choose to test the waters of this world sometimes, and thankfully see that there is NOTHING sweeter than sticking with Him. I just wish I could remember those things in the darkest moments. However, I press on. Trying to live like Jesus, failing, receiving forgiveness, and growing deeper all the time. My comfort is in a verse that says, He is weak, but we are strong... and yes Jesus loves me. The way He treats me and His word both agree that He loves me and is strong enough to handle me. No matter where I'm at in life. Whew. That's a good enough reminder for tonight anyways. Goodnight friends. Remember God is good all the time, even when we're at our worst we've not fallen too far for Him to reach us and pull us back.

My Mother's Eyes

I'm coming up on year 36 of life. Things have changed. Everything my elders barked at me throughout adolescence has come true, so far. After 30 it's harder to do anything. You have less energy. Things just "aren't what they used to be". What's even stranger is that I find myself sounding more and more like them everyday. I say things like, "Kids these days." more often than I'd like to admit.  I'm certain that when my years really begin to add up my kids will mock me saying, "You know what I mean?" I used to mock my mom. She would always say, "What you wanna do is..." and then promptly tell me how to do something I already knew how to do. Mom. I wish she was here to mock today. I would tease her, she would roll her eyes at me. We would laugh, but instead it's quiet. Now there are nothing but memories to sort through and piece together wondering what wisdom she might share with me now.

I try very hard to remember the advice she had to give when I was young. There are things she told me that I definitely strive to carry on such as: Treat people how you want to be treated, leave a place better than you found it. Then there are things I saw her do. She was gracious to everyone. She treated everyone with incredible respect and dignity whether they deserved it or not. If she said thank you she meant it. If she was thinking of you, she'd let you know. Someone once said of her, "She had more class in her pinky finger than anyone I know. " I would tend to agree. She was a great lady.

In recent years I've caught glimpses of her in the bathroom mirror, in the reflection of my car, in the windows of my kids rooms. As my eyes begin to crease. The way I smile more on my right side. They way my hair is more silver than grey. It's strange that I've tried to deny that she's still present with me this way. However my sister saw it the other day. We were bowling and I ran in front of the lane to take her picture and when I looked up at her she startled for a moment. "You just made the face! You made the mom face!" As I'm aging she sees mom too. It's my eyes. Not the color or the shape really, but a certain expression I couldn't duplicate intentionally.

My mom was intensely emotional, and it was usually held back by a dam of self protectiveness, but it was there and I saw it. I remember that intensity in her eyes. When she was happy or sad or angry. It didn't matter how calm she appeared on the outside, her eyes were always the give away. She could never fully hide who she was in her eyes. Her anxiety,her love,her fears, her pain. All there in the eyes.

It's been a long time and though the memories I have of her are faded here and there, I cannot forget her eyes. I don't want to either.