At my kitchen table

I have this farmhouse-style table I was handed down from my brother. It has white legs and a butcher-block top. I absolutely adore it. Because it has seen so much, the surface is worn and gouged in places. There are nicks in the legs and I'm missing two of the six chairs. However, all these things only add to it's charm: it has weathered three families (that I know of) and half a dozen or so relocations and the marks it's life has left behind are a testimony to it's strength and resiliency.

Presently, my table is at a friend's house. While we were forced to sell all our furniture except my son's when we moved into my mother's house due to lack of storage, somehow we managed to hold on to my table and a cabinet.

I read Hebrews 13:1-8 yesterday and verse 2 is sticking with me: "Do not forget to entertain strangers, for by doing so some people have entertained angels without knowing it."

I'm learning how to broaden my perception of serving and loving like Jesus by shaking off the misconception that modern conveniences like cars and cell phones are now a necessity to serve in the name of Jesus. And now, that list includes my kitchen table.

It's just a piece of furniture. It's not supernaturally blessed by the Holy Spirit to bestow peace in hearts by osmosis when someone sits at my table, props their arms on it to hold up the hands that are mug-hugging the cup of hot coffee, or when someone lays their head in their hands to sprinkle it's worn surface with tears of fear or frustration. Nope, it can do nothing. It doesn't have a heart or a soul sold-out to Jesus. It doesn't have arms or hands or a mouth. Yet I do have those things.....and I have my Jesus.

Has it been awhile since you were listened to? I mean really listened to? Come to my table....in my heart. Sit down. Relax. Listen to the coffee maker and smell the aroma of hot coffee beans. There's a bowl of apples on the table - they are cold because I just took them out of the fridge. But next to them, you see a small dish of Hershey's Kisses and maybe that sounds better to you....

We make small talk as I fill the small tray of coffee fixin's, and your eyes are focused somewhere in front of you, seeing but not seeing, and whispers on your heart battle for air-time like a tug-of-war between letting it all out or keeping it all inside. You see bible scriptures on the wall and those whispers find a new victim: belief in the truth of God's unconditional love. Maybe tears threaten your resolve then. Or maybe they do when you suddenly smell the pot roast in my slow-cooker as I lift the lid to check on it - it reminds you of your grandmother....Maybe what does you in is the box of tissues that is on the coffee tray I place on the table because it is an loving invitation to let go. Or maybe you manage to hold on a little longer and the dark whispers try to keep you in the dark by choosing the black coffee mug in a defiant gesture against the hope you're afraid to put faith into. Maybe it almost works and the tears are finally tucked and locked away....until you read the etching on the mug...it is Psalm 25....."guide me on your truth and teach me, for you are God my Savior, and my hope is in you all day long." Maybe that's when the tears begin to fall and you finally hear a kind voice say, "I can see you are hurting. What would you like to share about it?"

You feel safe at my kitchen table. Accepted. And loved. But it's not really a table, or coffee. It's not the chocolate or the pot roast. It's not even scriptures on the wall or on the coffee mug, and it most certainly isn't me. It's Jesus. It's the way He weaves faces and places together to love on people, give them hope, and free them from chains and shackles of heartache and pain.

Jesus can use anyone, anywhere, anytime. He doesn't require graduate school or country club memberships or six-figure salaries. All Jesus requires is a humble and obedient heart. He takes care of the rest.

So while my beloved kitchen table is not in my possession and I'm not in my own home to entertain freely, my heart is still my own. Lord, forgive me for my excuses. I shall open the doors of hospitality to my heart, and allow you to orchestrate circumstances to bring people to it that I may be a vessel of verbal hospitality where my physical circumstances limit me. Give me words of hope and love to speak, all for Your glory. Amen.

this caged bird is {SINGING}

Not having a car has some challenges in modern-day United States suburbia. Not many cities outside New England are very pedestrian-friendly or have adequate mass transit. It has been interesting and inspiring to see how creative God is in getting our needs met without a car of our own. I can't drive anyone's car in my family due to not being on their insurance, and no one really has the money to add me to their policy, so I don't even borrow a car. I've been 100% dependent on someone else to get to school, clinical rotations, the grocery store, or social and church activities. Let me tell you, this made for an interesting perspective on Thursday, my 30th birthday. 

I haven't been this dependent on another person since I was 15. Where a lack of a personal vehicle has hit me the hardest is not being able to go and visit with people that need a friendly face and some encouragement. There are 5 people that I have not been able to visit and it really bugs me. I also have had difficulties getting to church, and the ripple effect of that is vulnerable hearts and minds to Satan's attacks on our joy. What I have learned though, is that God doesn't change His mind. He gave me a spiritual gift with my powers of speaking and encouraging others. Just because I don't have a car doesn't mean I'm silenced. Just because I can't fly doesn't mean I can't sing. 

I have learned so much about accepting the soil the Lord planted you in as what is BEST for you at the moment - despite whatever expectations you might have for yourself of what is "best" for you. If it was best for me to have a vehicle right now, by golly I would have one. God's BEST for me right now is to be dependent on Him and learn how to encourage others without using not having a car as an excuse to not doing anything. 

This experience has made me examine myself further and deeper as well. What else have I used as an excuse? My mistakes? My sins? My guilt? My fears? What other barriers have I placed in my own way of being obedient to the Lord's call? Have there been other ways in which I have put myself far outside God's will because I have forgotten I am a new creation (2 Corinthians 5:17 ) and allowed the world's definitions of "useful" distort God's? God uses broken vessels all the time. Why? Because we are humble and dependent upon Him when we feel completely inadequate to the task He has laid before us. Otherwise, we'd prance around proud as peacocks proclaiming our own works instead of His. 

This mini-mester was difficult. I was uncomfortable in the clinical environment because I felt like I had to imprison the disciple of Christ that I am and conform to something I'm not. I initially did not find my fellow students enjoyable to work with, and the rest of class made me feel excluded and unwanted. I had to pray everyday (sometimes several times an hour) for God's eyes for the current situation, and for something, ANYTHING, to keep me encouraged and motivated to learn. Only by His grace and mercy am I able to report that I have not just jumped over the hurdle that felled me this spring, but I've done it with flying colors: I made an A on the final exam, and received an A for the final grade in mental health nursing. I made some new friends after it was all said and done, and while it feels surreal still that I am officially moving past the second semester courses, I give all the praise and glory for this achievement to my Jesus. There isn't a moment that I wasn't in some way leaning completely on Him and it was His strength working through me that I was able to do all I needed to do to meet the demands of my classes and still have something worthwhile left over to give to my husband and son. 

Our God is mighty to save! He is indescribably amazing in His power to help you overcome whatever mountain you are having to climb, valley you are having to crawl through, or storm you are having to weather. I can't tell you how freeing it has been to let go of my pride and fear and say time and time again, "Okay, Jesus. My family and friends are gonna think I'm nuts, and I'm scared to death but I'm facing that fear and squishing my pride and asking you to help me with _____." It has been freeing because all it took was one time for me to "let go and let God" and see Him do something powerful and impossible by human standards for me to keep turning to my Heavenly Father in faith. Each time I do let go and turn to Him, my faith gets stronger and stronger and waivers less and less like a ship on the sea being tossed about by waves of doubt ( James 1:6 ). My experiences give me boldness to pray and humbly proclaim His greatness, and also peace in my heart that somehow God will provide. My faith in Jesus is all that is necessary.  

So, I sing. I sing with joy. I sing because I am free. I sing because my Jesus doesn't have material prerequisites of this world for me to serve Him. All He requires is my faith. I sing because I am dearly loved. I sing with love. Yes. Oh, yes. Even without a car, I sing.

making {changes} 9/15/11

So I'm officially almost half-way through the semester. In two weeks, my psychosocial nursing class will be over! I can hardly believe how the time has flown. We are still getting settled, and in fact, we are still moving things in. This weekend should be the last of it, but due to a number of factors, we haven't had the time or the manpower to get it done any sooner. I'm usually very efficient at moving, so this relocation has been a great source of anxiety for me since I was unable to do much to help since I have been buried in schoolwork. I will sleep much easier once its all finished. 

We have had to make a number of changes in response to our relocation, but the biggest ripple to contend with now is lack of transportation. Our only car broke down on the 10th and we had to sell it since we were unable to afford to make the necessary repair work. We prayed through the decision, and the next morning listed my car on Craigslist and released it to the Lord, praying for His will, not ours. If the car didn't sell, we'd fall back and collect ourselves and pray through the next step. Well, it sold. FAST. In less than 15 minutes in fact. 

When my car broke down, my husband was immediately frazzled. I laughed. Not out of some bizarre coping mechanism attempt, but because I was truly amused. It was this time in the semester this spring when my car broke down and I had to drop psych nursing. Not gonna happen again. Praise the Lord, a dear friend in the program recently moved closer to me and he quickly offered to pick me up for carpooling, AND my clinical assignment is two miles from my house so my dad can pick me up and drop me off. However, in the moment, I wasn't thinking about any of that. I laughed at Satan's attempt to destroy my peace and joy because I trust my God that much. God will provide all we need; He knows better than we do what we need anyway. I knew I had nothing to fear - I was in my Father's loving hands. 

I have absolutely no idea what God's purpose is for this season of my life. I haven't a clue what kind of nursing I want to work in. My Heavenly Father has tenderly and lovingly broken me of my arrogance and pride; it isn't for me to decide what is best for anyone or anything. Including myself. It is up to me to be humble and obedient. It is up to me to stay close to my Father through prayer and reading His word. And what I find when I actually do that is how amazingly at peace I feel with whatever my circumstances are. 

a time for everything

And everything in its time. . . 

Sometimes we outgrow the soil God plants us in, and He must transplant us into other soil better suited for our growth. A dear friend shared that with me recently.

Since my last post, a great deal has occurred in the geographical sphere of my life. Due to many contributing factors, we have to move and relocate back into my parents' home.

I was grieving the path my family's life was turning towards, refusing to admit that it could have anything beneficial in store for my family. She became a valiant, humble, and faithful prayer warrior for me, covering my marriage, motherhood, and academic responsibilities in prayers for wisdom, discernment, and encouragement no matter what God's will has in store. When the fullness of this illustration hit me (which I confess was not the same day she sent it to me, but in fact came a full 48 hours, one argument with my husband, and a full-fledged southern-girl crying fit later), my tender Heavenly Father brought me to this Psalm: 

"He brought me out into a spacious place;
   he rescued me because he delighted in me."  ~~ Psalm 18:19 

I do not get to determine what is "spacious" for me. It is arrogant to assume that we know better than God what spacious soil is for us, or even if we ourselves are fertile soil to His Word. The Creator of all there was, and is, and yet to come determines all of that. The illustration my friend sent me has caused me to recall the many years I've watched my mother spend tending her garden. Countless hours she toiled over dirt and seeds and little green sprouts, tirelessly coaching them through the stages of growth in preparation for their season of bloom and harvest. The seedlings were certainly safe in the confines of her little patio greenhouse, in the little boxes in which she planted them, where the scorching sun couldn't burn them or relentless rain drown them. However, no matter how safe, no matter desirable the conditions were, they needed the very things that could kill them because most of all, they needed room to grow. They weren't meant for safe, little plastic trays. They were meant for spacious places to take root so they could grow, flourish, and bear fruit.

 

I've watched her transplant her little green sprouts into gradually larger containers, thinning out clusters of the little things so they could thrive and not strangle each other. Some plants survived the transplantation and thinning out process - our respective tomato gardens are a living illustration! Many cherry tomato plants this spring survived the transplanting down at my house. Not many of hers survived. Bowlfuls of tomatoes compared to the half-dozen or less hers has produced. We have laughed at the difference a little dirt can make.

My life this year has been a transplanting process. I've been brought out of safety, transplanted into different soil to grow, and now its time to be transplanted again - back into the very soil my loving Heavenly Father uprooted me from. It's painful. My Creator and faithful Gardener has thinned out my life, removing the things and people that strangle my joy and peace with pride, greed, and fake Christianity to reveal exactly what soil conditions are required for my growth so that my life - not my own efforts or my words - bear fruit for the Lord Jesus. 

I have learned how to abide in the arms of my Savior Jesus when the sun threatens to burn me alive, the cold threatens to stop my heart, and the rain threatens to fill my lungs and drown me in misery. I've learned how to breathe Him in when I can't breathe for myself. I've learned how to pray for His heart when my flesh screams to be heard and put someone in their place. I've learned how to serve and love the very people that have shattered my heart over and over again. I've learned how to line up my expectations with my reality so I can serve and love people unburdened by crushing disappointment. 

The most beautiful thing I have acquired though isn't wisdom, discernment, or Biblical history t. It isn't the knowledge my collegiate transcript testifies to, or the battles I have fought and won with my health. It isn't "surviving singleness" and finally getting married. I have been journaling many years now, and for approximately the last year or so my closing prayers include a petition: a heart more like Jesus tomorrow than today. Little did I know what was growing inside me. . .

While I could spend hours sharing my experiences of God's provision, what brings me to tears is the opportunities I've had to share how I have managed to stay afloat amidst numerous emotional trials in my relationships with people: a heart like Jesus. Only the One that died for me is able to come into my heart, heal all the wounds, and love people despite the mountains of reasons not to. Only, only, only Jesus. The little seed my prayers planted inside of me has grown and caused me to have to be transplanted time and time again. And now that I'm aware of what has enabled me to endure and love anyway is His love inside me, it now follows that it is time to be transplanted again so I don't overgrow my little pot and suffocate in complacency and comfort. I have to be planted in a spacious place, in specific place, to grow and glorify my Lord and Savior. 

Someday my growth process may not be so visual. Someday my husband will have a home of our own, and "transplantation" will not include cardboard boxes and packing tape. Until then, I have finished fighting, resisting, and crying like I've been doing. Fighting what is necessary is frustrating and futile. It's like standing on an escalator and refusing to look at the disappearing steps approaching. It robs me of peace. And I want peace, I need peace like I need oxygen. I need my Jesus. 

I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do all this through him who gives me strength. 

~~Philippians 4:11-13

being still

My husband has been busy these past few days with employment opportunities. Suddenly the landscape of available jobs is no longer sparse and dry, but showing signs of lushness and life. He had an interview yesterday, and is following up on three establishments today which he had called yesterday. It's been so hard for him this year going on interview after interview. We've been praying for God's best, however. And His best isn't just laying around, easy to come by. God's best is special. Set apart. If finding His best were easy, we wouldn't need Him because we could find it on our own. Finding things on our own, through independent endeavors and striving in our own strength, is opposite of the relationship our Heavenly Father desires to have with us.

The New International Version of the Holy Bible is the most published version of the Bible in the world. Most everyone has seen the first line of Psalm 46:10 on hospital walls, email signatures, or Facebook posts. It says "Be still and know that I am God." Stillness is the physical act of not moving. An online dictionary gives the following definitions:

1. remaining in place or at rest; motionless; stationary: to stand still.

2. free from sound or noise, as a place or persons; silent: to keep still about a matter.

3. subdued or low in sound; hushed: a still, small voice.

 

I've often quoted Psalm 46:10 in my head when I catch myself in all my Type-A-single-mom-psychosis-control-freak glory, tirelessly trying to manipulate my circumstances to get something accomplished. I then move myself to my knees, tirelessly praying, my mind and spirit all aflurry. There is absolutely nothing wrong with praying frustrations out. Yet what I was doing was turning my physical striving outside-in, and internalizing all that activity. I had the appearance of stillness, but on the inside, I was striving nonetheless.

Yesterday hubbz and I were trying hard not to let Satan enslave our minds and hearts with discouragement. Our conversation led us to recalling the image of Jesus walking on the water in the storm, reaching out to Peter to join him. Instead of sinking in the world's sea of worry and doubt, we chose to stare our Savior's feet, where the water still beneath Him, and keep our gaze where He is, not on the tumultuous waves around us. No matter how crazy it seems. No matter how zealously evil tries to sell us fear and anxiety about our finances, even through well-intentioned friends and family. Jesus asked Peter for blind faith. The faith Peter showed by stepping out of the boat would never have been manifested if the waters were calmer. Faith in the storm lays a firm foundation in our memory so when future storms arise, we can recall His love, faithfulness, strength, and provision. Without faith like Peter exemplified in His first step out of the boat and the focus he kept on his Savior, we will inevitably sink like he did in the waters of turmoil beneath our feet.  (see Matthew 14:22-33 )

I love the New American Standard Bible. A dear friend in my womens' Lifegroup (i.e. Sunday School class) described the feeling it gave me perfectly: "It sings to you." Indeed it does. The NASB version of Psalm 46:10 gives a vibrant picture of God's call to our hearts.

"Cease striving and know that I am God"

Ceasing to strive calls my spirit to be still. How often have we sat in a room of crowded people still and silent, but were actually screaming on the inside? Oh, how I've been there. . .

In less than 30 days, our financial position will be considerably less precarious due to my financial aid refund from my university. I've been in this position before, too. In January of this year, I found myself in the midst of a storm trying not to take my eyes off Jesus and sink in the waters below me that were thirsting for my defeat, with a mere 30 days between where I stood and relief from the burdens I carried. All Jesus wanted me to do then was give my burdens to Him. I did then out of survival and the Lord took care of me and the yoke of Christ was indeed a much lighter load to bear. So now, hubbz and I find it easier to cast our cares upon Him (1 Peter 5:7 and Psalm 55:22 ), decide to be still in our efforts, and choose to cease striving in our spirits. It makes no sense to the world and the people we know that don't know Jesus. In fact, it drives them crazy with speculation and judgement. Quite honestly, we don't really care what they think. As long as our Father in Heaven is honored, we have little use for worldly views of success and failure. Our family of believers hug us and pray for us and give us priceless words of encouragement and affirmation, while we all watch God rain down manna from the heavens and meet our every need. All His love and the love He sends through His other children in Christ make it so easy to be at peace and still before Him inside and out.

Thank you Father, for your Son. Being still in this storm would be impossible without Him. Amen.

I could sing of Your {love} forever!

God answers prayers folks. Maybe not the way you imagined He would. Definitely not always the way you ask Him to, but oh yes. He answers them. 

Yesterday I needed encouragement. He sent it in the form of my friend Ed from school. Little did I know, but while I was tapping my frustrations out on here my beloved husband was chatting with Ed and made dinner plans for that evening. I was hot, tired, and emotionally bankrupt. However, I went along with it because my good manners wouldn't allow me to cancel. 

The evening turned out to be exactly what I needed. Ed walked in the door with two cheesecakes (exponentially therapeutic in and of themselves!) and enough words of encouragement and affirmation to not only get me through the next 30 days until my student loan refund, but to get my attention focused higher than my circumstances. My husband and Ed laughed and traded stories and uplifted my spirits. By the time hubbz and I waved goodbye to our friend, I felt a renewed sense of dedication to my education. 

Today we got to spend the day with some dear friends. They are very musical, and perform every Sunday at church. I mentioned to my friend that I wanted to learn how to play guitar this fall and BAM! I remembered her hubbz plays guitar! He agreed to teach me this fall, and when he joined us later, he brought his guitar and taught me my first chord (D major). While the kiddos played he was walking around strumming, and they sang a couple of worship songs. One of them is called, "I Could Sing of Your Love Forever." Listening to my friend's voice lilt and swing with her husband's guitar in harmony and worship was an audible illustration of my thankful heart. 

 For now, this is the path that I know I'm supposed to be on, and these are definitely the people my family and I are supposed to be surrounded by. After graduation? Who knows. Until then, Lord I will sing of your love. Thank You for answering my prayer with such precious people. I'm so very, very blessed.

{refocus}

I've been feeling lately like I've been looking at my life through something hazy, something that is obscuring the panorama before me. The landscape of my life has changed. I'm no longer a single parent; I have a wonderful husband to share my life with now. The first false truth I debunked going from single to married was that being married was most assuredly not easier. It's just different. I truly expected it to be easier. Not that marriage isn't beautiful, that having a love that has no ceiling to keep it from growing into the stratosphere and beyond is without a doubt breathtaking, but is not easier. The whole "two is better than one" thing has responsibilities. So does being single and parent to boot. I could go on, but I would digress too far into a topic miles away from where I'm headed today.

Being a wife now changes my prayers dramatically. It changes everything. The hopes and dreams I had as a single parent were born from a heart that dared not include a husband. An entire life I built in my head without any room for a husband, as it turns out. Now, not only has the landscape changed before me, but so has the light shining down upon. I can't get a clear view of anything. I find myself squinting and squeezing the eyes of my heart tightly only reopen them to find the same fuzzy, mottled scene before me. 

I confess I'm no longer at peace with the road I'm on, that the direction my life was taking before marriage is the right path for me to be on. Not that I don't love what I'm doing, but I'm mature enough in my faith to know that just because a person loves what they are doing doesn't necessarily mean that it has the Lord's stamp of approval. I can't help but wonder if all the struggling we're going through is the result of forcing our square dreams into God's round hole of His will. . .

After sharing my feelings with hubbz (translation: I southern-girl-snotted for about 15 minutes on his shoulder), and given the current circumstances we are faced with in our life right now, we are dedicating our prayer life to revelation of God's will for our marriage and family. No matter what that means, or what road it takes us down. We know God is walking before us and behind us. All He asks is that we trust the water He's walking on, no matter how torrential the storm is around Him. And I do. And we will. I just need to refocus. Not horizontally. . .but vertically.