Loose ends, Sawyer update, and Dreams of her...

I'm getting ready to go to the Women of Faith Conference in a little bit. Just to give you a little window into the willy-nilliness of my life, I'm still not packed. That's just how I roll. And, at 5:52am, I'm not even going to apologize. I will say, though, that I do admire all of you who are organized and together. It's a beautiful quality. Unfortunately, I am wired differently. I won't say that isn't a challenge for my very organized and structured husband at times...but God gives us both sufficient grace. He is faithful like that.

If you're wondering who is claiming the ticket I announced was still available (through a series of twists and events) yesterday, you'll just have to keep wondering. If all goes as planned, there will be some pictures to share....maybe even a plethora of pictures. And the mystery will be solved. I'm sure all two of you out there in blogland are just on the edge of your seats waiting to know who will come to Women of Faith with us! Don't worry...all will soon be revealed. =)

I don't know about all of you, but whenever I'm going somewhere, I feel like I have to tie up all the loose ends in my life before I go. (Not that it ever happens...it's just what I want to happen!) As if being gone for less than 48 hours is going to cause some sort of irreparable havoc in my life. So, for some reason, while I am yet unpacked, just hours from our departure, it seems necessary to write a blog post. The craziness of the way my mind works...aye, aye, aye!

So...some bloggy loose ends...completely unrelated to one another...

If you've been praying for baby Sawyer, thank you so much. Please scroll down to previous posts if you don't know Sawyer's situation...just not feeling the Linky this morning. Yes, I'm aware that typing all these words to explain not linking is probably more work than clicking around to do the linking...again, how I roll. At least this morning.

Sawyer did have the procedure to close up the opening left from his open heart surgery, yesterday. The last update was the procedure was a success and one little hurdle in this situation of seemingly endless hurdles is behind him. Please continue to pray for this sweet baby and his family as he heals and faces the next hurdle. (His mama is one of my best friends.)

Speaking of best friends, I'm feeling a little Steel Magnolias-ish this morning. You know, what with getting ready to meet up with some women of faith in my life and worship with about 40,000 other women of faith. And, as I think of the beautiful women of faith I'm going to meet, thoughts inevitably drift to my own mother, a place my mind goes often in a day's time.

I long to hear her sweet laugh and see her smile...the one that dances in her eyes and warms the whole room. I won't lie. My mama was a feisty gal. And, she and I didn't always see eye-to-eye. I'll be the first to admit that I spent most of her life missing out on all the gifts she had to offer. God did redeem all that was broken between us in the last years of her life. But, I have many regrets over the gifts I missed...the gifts she offered the world. I know when someone leaves us, we often only hold on to the good. But as time goes by, I don't see anything wrong with only seeing the good in those we love. Maybe, we should do it more with those who are still with us. I think I kind of like that, and I'm going to embrace it. Actually, I think it's a biblical concept even...check out I Corinthians 13.

Anyway, I miss my mother with a missing that I cannot convey with words. Even when I dream of her, my missing comes out. The ache is so acutely with me that sometimes I am taken aback by it's strength. My dreams of her have not always been a comfort. So much about the suffering at the end of her life remains unsettled in my psyche. And, I suppose it's all trying to work itself out in dreamland where I can't push it back down under the layers where I'd like it to stay. Dreams render you helpless like that.

I won't get into details here about all of those dreams, but I do want to share about the last one. To tell you the truth, most of them I'd rather not relive.

One of the things I long for the most is to just stand in the kitchen with her, or the laundry room while she does ordinary things and we chat like mothers and daughters do. Many of you are mothers aching for your children. I share that ache with you...those dreams for all that could have been. This ache is different. It is for all that was and all that could have been. I never dream of my babies, although I wish I could. It seems it would be a comfort to feel them in my arms, even if just in dreamland.

So, I was delighted when in this dream, I was allowed to do one of the things I long for most. As always, there was a little bit of reality in the dream. The reality is that my mother's house will be going up for sale soon. So, in dreamland, my stepfather was packing their things in the other room. I was in the kitchen feeling the usual weight in my chest. And, I looked up and saw her standing at the kitchen counter, wiping the crumbs. (She hated clutter and a crumby counter.) She was smiling and in no hurry at all.

"Mom, you're here!" I ran to her and hugged her tight, something I did too rarely in real life. The questions followed of "where have you been" and "I've missed you" and "There's so much going on". Some part of me in the dream understands that she has been gone...that she has died, even as I'm talking to her. I didn't dwell much on that this time. This time was different. I laughed with her in the kitchen, as they packed her life away in the other room. I laughed with her as she sat at the kitchen table laughing with her grandchildren and doing some craft. I laughed with her while she was in the laundry room. (She really had a thing about laundry. She hated to get behind and was meticulous about the way it was done. I did not inherit this trait, much to my family's chagrin.)

In many of my dreams, there is little comfort as I work out all that I didn't know was inside me. But, in this dream, as we stood in the kitchen and I prepared to apologize again, as if I could somehow have prevented all that happened, she put her hands on my shoulders, looked into my eyes and said the words I must be longing to hear...

"This is not your fault."

She hugged me and I inhaled the smell of vanilla and Tide, drinking in the beauty of her face and the feel of her arms around me, knowing even in my dream state that our time was short. Peace settled in my heart and I awoke with her memory still hanging in the air. It felt as if I did spend time with her. And, I was grateful, even if it was only a dream. Oh, the glory that will be revealed one day when I'll never have to wake up from that dream as we laugh with those we love in heaven's glory.

O.K....now that I got that off my chest...I really do need to pack! We will be visiting hospitals in Columbus today to give them some information about Sufficient Grace. Please pray that God will open doors and that we will find favor and make the appropriate contacts. And, please pray for God's protection and all the other loose ends as we march forth.

For now, I'm off to get my Women of Faith on!

Love to all...

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Faithful in the Little Things

Everybody can be great. Because anybody can serve. You don't have to have a college degree to serve. You don't have to make your subject and verb agree to serve...You only need a heart full of grace, a soul generated by love.
~ Martin Luther King Jr.

This quote was on my desk calendar a couple days ago. It really struck me and I've returned to it several times. There have been moments in my life when I have wondered what it would have been like if I had gone to college, received a teaching degree, or pursued my aspirations to take the stage acting and singing. I had many dreams to use my abilities for "greatness" when I was young. There was even a time before my days of teenage rebellion when I thought of becoming a missionary. Good grades came easy for me. I had a lot of talents and abilities...and what teachers would call "potential".

Instead, I became a mother when I was eighteen years old, and my entire life changed. I was a young wife and mother, and realized that the ideas and plans I had for my life would have to be put away. My little boy needed me. So, I worked as a waitress to make ends meet and Tim worked at a metal spinning shop. We worked opposite shifts so that we wouldn't have to leave Timothy with a babysitter and my mother took care of him during the couple hours our shifts overlapped.

I stayed home with Timothy and ran a home daycare for several years after the waitressing job. When Timothy was preschool age, I took a job at a local daycare and he went to work with me. When he went to kindergarten, I took a job at his elementary school as a teacher's aide, monitoring study hall, recess, and later working as an English as a Second Language Tutor and Safety Patrol monitor. We had James, and I worked just a couple hours a day while James napped, and my mother stayed with him. Then, when mom was too sick to care for James, I stayed home for a couple years with him. I took some distance education classes, earning an associate degree in early childhood education, and started teaching preschool when James was four. When he went to kindergarten, I took a job (my current job) at the elementary school again...this time assisting special needs students.

I'm not a teacher, at least not the kind with a fancy degree. I never attended class on a college campus, never starred in a broadway play, and I'm not a missionary. At least not the kind that travels to exotic, remote places.

What I am is a mother, called to teach her children about Jesus, and love, family, and life. I didn't go to college to learn to do this, but I looked to my own mother, and the mothers that surrounded me, filling me with their wisdom, love, and prayers along the way. While I don't have the paper or the title, I teach children everyday...my own and others...how to read, how to share, how to be kind, how to show love, how to forgive, how to be considerate of others, and respectful. While working in a public school, I can't always tell them about Jesus, but I can show Him to them with every act of love and kindness.

I have taken the stage...not on broadway, but at weddings and funerals, at churches, to sing... and at hospitals, to speak...not for my own greatness, glory, or gain. But for my Savior, my Comforter, my Redeemer...to act with the unspeakably humbling honor of being His hands and feet. With a message of hope for those whose hearts have been shattered, whose lives are torn into pieces, those who have been asked to say good-bye to their precious babies, I have taken the stage. My mission field is in this home, first...and for every grieving heart that crosses my path, second. I haven't walked in the remote villages of Africa, but I have walked in the valley of the shadow of death...more than once. I have walked through the fires of sorrow...through the darkness that didn't seem to have an end...through the relentless storms of pain and doubt. And I never walked alone. My Jesus walked with me through every fire, through the darkness, and through the storms. And He led me to the other side, where beauty and grace awaited us.

Why am I saying all of this? Because Jesus doesn't require greatness in those who serve Him...at least, not greatness by the world's standards. For you see your calling, brethren, that not many wise according the the flesh, not many mighty, not many noble, are called. But God has chosen the foolish things of the world to put to shame the wise, and God has chosen the weak things of the world to put to shame the things which are mighty. 1 Corinthians 1:26-27 If you really read about some of the people God chose to further His kingdom, you will be amazed. You see, the more imperfect we servants are, the more glory is given to our God. Because, if He could use some of us (like, for instance...me!), He could use anyone! And that just shows His power even more.

So, if you're longing for greatness, I just want to encourage you on this one thing...Serve the One who is truly great. Serve Him in the little things, and the big ones. Serve Him right where you are with what you've been given. In the things that no one sees, like keeping your home, praying for those you love...and those in need, changing the diapers, disciplining your children, loving your husband, organizing, setting aside your own plans, taking out the trash, encouraging a child, bending to tie one more shoe, smiling at a stranger. Be faithful in the little things. And, when you meet Him, He will say..."Well done, good and faithful servant; you were faithful over a few things, I will make you ruler over many things. Enter into the joy of your Lord." (Matthew 25:21) And everything else will seem so small compared to the value of hearing those words.

Beauty from Ashes - Grief's Extraordinary Journey

The following text was originally published in The Women's Edge Newsletter by Sufficient Grace Ministries for Women, Inc. and written by Kelly Gerken.

He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted...To comfort all who mourn, and provide for those who grieve in Zion-To bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair. - Isaiah 61:1b-3

As Christians, we have the peace of knowing that because Jesus Christ died on the cross for our sins, and rose again, that we will never taste death. We will have eternal life in heaven with Him. What a blessed assurance! Unfortunately, we still live in a world that faces death and loss everyday. And, although there is the wonderful promise of heaven, those of us who remain on this Earth still must grieve the losses of those we love (even if we are just separated for a short time.).

There are stages of grief that most people go through: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance. Others describe numbness, disorganization, and reorganization. Each individual is unique in their grief . A variety of responses are "normal" and can be expected, such as : anger resentment, pain, sorrow, bitterness, emptiness, numbness, exhaustion, apathy, depression, and even some joy as you remember your loved one, peace as you think of your loved one in heaven with Jesus. There are so many feelings that come at will and even when the overwhelming sorrow has passed and a new form of "normalcy" has returned, you may out of no where, when you least expect it, feel grief's gripping waves overtake you once more.

Walking the journey of grief is an extraordinary test of our faith, and our will. Grief is a tumultuous sea, a relentless roller coaster that we cannot control or escape. The pain often comes in great waves, and tosses us about in a "sea of grief", so powerful that we may feel as if we are drowning. It is important to realize that it takes much time to heal and mourn. Unfortunately, there is no fast forward button for grief. So go gently. Be patient with yourself and your grief. Even when we know that our loved one is in heaven, we rejoice for our loved one, but we cry for ourselves. Our tears are for those of us who are left on this earth to ache for them, to miss and long for their physical presence, as we face the emptiness of walking through our days without the one we love. While we have great hope in Jesus and the amazing promise of Heaven, we acknowledge that there is a time to grieve, and we must take the time we need to do so.

The hope that we have as Christians is that we don't have to drown alone in our sea of grief. Our heavenly Father is able and willing to carry us when we cannot walk through the difficult journeys of this life ourselves. All that we can do is cling to Him, believing His promises. Some days we may not even have the strength to cling to Jesus, and in those moments, He will hold on to us because He is merciful and loving, full of grace and truth and comfort. He promises to never leave us nor forsake us. We have a great opportunity in the despair of grief to ask ourselves if we really believe His promises. When the waves of doubt come crashing in over our head, we must remember who our Lord is and what He has already done for us, in us, and through us. We can search His word and find hope and peace. We can look back on our own lives and see evidence of His hand gently leading and guiding our lives.

How do we face the task of walking through our days, passing the ordinary time, as the world around us goes about the business of life, while our world has shattered into a million pieces? The best advice I have heard comes form Elizabeth Elliott, who has experience great loss in her life. She says, "Just do the next thing.". Maybe the next thing is as simple as getting out of bed, putting one foot in front of the other, or just brushing your teeth. Sometimes there is great comfort in just the ordinary small, one step at a time pace of life that can carry your through to the next day. We can take comfort in knowing that God's mercies are new every morning and great is His faithfulness. Slowly, one baby step at a time toward normalcy, we will see the promise of a new day, a light at the end of the tunnel of grief. With time, those who grieve will heal and joy will be restored..
Taking the time to remember our loved one is an important and precious part of the grieving process. Some find comfort in journaling, creating a memory book of pictures and memories of the moments that make up our lives together. Sometimes it's the simple everyday memories that mean the most- a smile, a touch, a hug, a laugh, a smell. In the case of losing a baby or a child whose life was cut short, we not only feel the empty loss of the person, but also of all the dreams we hold for that precious life that ended so suddenly.

The old saying "time heals all wounds" has some truth to it, but I believe what is really happening in that time is that God is working in us to heal and restore us.. You may have heard the analogy that we cannot see the wind, but we see the evidence that wind exists as it blows the leaves on the trees. We can feel the wind on our face and hear the sound of it blowing past. I think God works in those invisible ways. We cannot see Him, but we see the evidence of His work in our lives. We feel the comfort of His Presence.

My friend Dinah gives a great analogy of how God mysteriously works. She likens it to the changing of the seasons. In the autumn the leaves change colors. Often though it is so gradual, so subtle that we don't realize it fully until one day the tress are orange, yellow, red and brown instead of green. In the same way as winter approached, the leaves fall from the tress. One day, we notice that the leaves are gone. We know they must have been falling for some time, but it was so subtle and gradual that we hardly noticed, until, one day when they were all gone and the land was stark and bare. When spring comes, everything brings forth new life. What one was dead is alive again. And one day it happens. You wake up and the leaves have returned one more - green and shiny and new. You can't point to at time when they began to bloom, exactly. You may have seen a bud or two. But it seems that it is sudden. In reality it was happening all the time, subtle, gradual, unseen, changing and restoring life. That is the best illustration I have heard of the way the Holy Spirit works in us to heal and restore. How subtly God works in us to change us until one day what once was, is not more. One day , we are no longer struggling. We have overcome what once held us captive, be it bitterness, pain, grief, or sin. God had been healing us all along, working while we struggled. He will take the tatters ashes of the broken hearts and made them into something beautiful ... God will use every tear, every moment of brokenness to make beauty from ashes to heal our pain and restore our joy.

~ Taken from the Dreams of You Memory Book written by Kelly Gerken and published by Sufficient Grace Ministries for Women, Inc. Copyright 2004-2008

Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven:A time to be born and a time to die...A time to weep and a time to laugh...A time to mourn and a time to dance...