Respect

Someone once gave me a copy of the Quran years ago. When he gave it to me he told me I needed to wash my hands before I touched it - out of respect for their holy book. Do we show our Bibles with similar respect?

I don’t remember specifically being told to treat the Bible carefully and with respect but I must have been taught this lesson at some point because I have a serious aversion to putting my Bible on the floor and have drilled this into my children’s’ heads.

In fact, my daughter has adopted this respect for the Bible so well that at youth group when they were playing a Bible quiz trivia game the leaders told the kids to put their Bibles under their chairs to make sure they didn’t use them and cheat. My daughter refused- eventually crossing the room and putting her Bible on a different chair - but never on the floor.

In addition, my daughter attends a Bible study with her drama teacher and a few of her friends at lunch on Fridays. Her teacher used to be a missionary in Eastern Europe and she told a story about attending an underground church and putting her Bible down on the floor. The believers assembled there were shocked by her disrespect for her Bible! They were in a country closed to Christianity and even owning a Bible was forbidden. So copies of the Bible were few and precious and no one would think of setting it down on the floor!

I have been thinking a lot about this lately. Especially when I found out my daughter is the ONLY one in her youth group who thought putting the Bible on the floor was disrespectful (sadly, my son hasn’t quite adopted this respect for the Bible- at least not consistently). She is also the only one in her lunchtime Bible study that completely identifies with the people in the closed church in Eastern Europe on this issue. In our country Bibles are plentiful. Every believer probably owns multiple copies -in different versions. But because of this, we take possession of a Bible for granted and we fail to properly grasp that the Bible is the Living Word of GOD! The Bible is a precious book - the holy scriptures inspired by God Himself! Why don’t we treat it as such?

I am not saying we should wash our hands before we touch our Bibles- unless our hands are really dirty. But I DO think we should treat it with more respect. Don’t put it on the ground where it could get kicked or stepped on - where people walk with their dirty shoes that have been everywhere from the parking lot to public restrooms to dirt paths through parks or playgrounds.

It’s a matter of showing respect for God’s Word - not to idolize it, but to protect it and view it as precious and worthy of better treatment than that of a comic book or magazine or a dirty pair of shoes.

Jesus and my Dad

My Dad grew up in a small rural town in Eastern Washington. He was the second son born to his parents and had 3 younger sisters. He was a middle child and was largely ignored by his parents. There are many stories I have heard about his growing up years that make me wonder how he ended up being the most Christ-like example I have ever met. But I can’t tell all those stories here - not enough time. 🙂

But what I CAN tell you is that he was an awesome Dad - especially suited to raise girls. Fortunately, he and my Mom had 2 adorable daughters and no sons.😉. I am the oldest daughter so my perspective is going to be a little different from that of my sister but we both agree that he was a great Dad. My Dad didn’t sit me down and explain how to live a godly life, he taught me by how he lived every day.

My Dad was 6 years older than my Mom. He was working at a service station that my Mom and her family used to frequent and that’s how they met. My Dad married my Mom against the wishes of his parents (especially his mother) so after they were married, my parents promptly moved out of their small town, ultimately ending up on the West side of the mountains. There were many unhealthy elements at play in both of their respective families so, in an effort to protect his wife and future children, my Dad opted to separate from the negative influence and move. This is something I didn’t understand growing up because my Dad protected us - he and our Mom didn’t tell us about any of the legitimate reasons they kept their distance from our extended family until we were adults. And, as a result, I had a great childhood and enjoyed my annual visits with grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins- innocently loving and accepting them as they were. Getting to know them through my own experiences that were not tainted by my parents’ past. This is one of the character traits I admire about my Dad. He walked away from people who didn’t have his best interests at heart (to say the least) but he didn’t expose the ugly details unless or until it either wasn’t a factor anymore or it was necessary to protect his family.

My parents tried to have children for 7 years and gave up. My Mom had to re-focus her goals and decided to be a career woman. She enrolled in a secretary school but then got pregnant! It was me arriving on the scene. 7 IS the number of perfection…😉. My sister arrived 2 years later to complete our family.

My Dad worked just 15 minutes from home for the first 10 or so years of my life but then changed jobs and had a 45 minute commute and later he was moved to a different office which was an hour and a half commute each direction for the last 5 or so years of his career. And he didn’t complain. In fact, he left home way early to avoid getting stuck in traffic and he ended up starting a side business associated with his company that helped them out of a jam and earned some extra income for our family. He worked hard. He took very few opportunities to rest when I was young but he was never too tired for me - never turned me away. In fact, my Mom knew he needed down time after work each day and she knew he would not refuse our attention so she would keep us away from him - telling us to leave him alone and let him read the newspaper while she was fixing dinner. After dinner, he was fair game! It wasn’t until after he retired that he cultivated hobbies like wood carving and toll painting. He rarely called in sick for work. I asked him about it once when he had a bad cold - I asked why he didn’t just stay home and rest. He told me he felt better when he was up and productive- staying in bed made his cold feel worse.

As a baby I was adorable😁 but colicky. My Dad used to get up with me in the night and rock me. Very little would soothe me apparently (sorry Mom and Dad!) but my Dad discovered that if he laid me on my tummy on a pillow on his lap and rocked me I would calm down and go to sleep. He called it the “silk pillow treatment” and it is a good metaphor for the treatment I ALWAYS received from my Dad.

I never saw my Dad angry. He disciplined us - I still remember the sting of a spanking from my Dad - but he never raised his voice (except to call us inside for dinner) and he never seemed to act rashly. Sometimes he spanked me for something I did while he was at work - so not in the heat of the moment. But even when it was immediate punishment, he didn’t seem angry and I don’t think he enjoyed punishing us (to be fair, I don’t think my Mom enjoyed it either). He had fashioned a thin stick for spanking that was kept on top of the refrigerator. It was primarily used by my Mom because she didn’t have the upper body strength to physically punish us effectively without assistance. But my Dad used his hand to spank us - he wanted to know how hard he was spanking, not wanting to cause physical damage but to hurt enough to teach the lesson about obedience. I never questioned his love for me. He was a master at loving correction. Once, as a teenager, when spanking was no longer appropriate and I had some autonomy, I was hanging out with friends at a next door neighbor’s house. It was summer and the windows were open. My Dad was working in the yard and he overheard our conversations. One of my friends used some bad language. When it was time to go home, I walked up the path to our front door and my Dad stood up from his yard work and said “You know, you don’t have to listen to that kind of language.” We talked briefly about it - no lecture, no forbidding me to spend time with those friends- just a reminder that I didn’t need to allow myself to be around people who use coarse language to express themselves. And it also reminded me that you never know who might be listening to your conversations so to keep my own language clean and pure. My Dad never used profanity and he didn’t participate in coarse joking.

When I was little, I was afraid of the dark - and so was my sister. My Dad was in charge of reading us bedtime stories, helping us get our teeth brushed and getting us tucked into bed. When we were REALLY little this also involved getting onto his hands and knees and crawling, with us on his back, giving us a “horsey back ride” to our rooms at the end of the hallway. Then both our parents would take turns praying with us - every night. We could then hear our Dad checking to make sure the front door was locked. Dad would leave the hall light on and our bedroom doors open and after checking the lock on the door, he would lay down on the floor in the hallway - staying there until we were fast asleep. We weren’t afraid as long as we could see our Dad keeping watch over us. I know my Dad took over this evening duty to give my Mom a break after a long day with us but I don’t think he viewed it as a chore. I think he genuinely enjoyed every moment of it - at least that’s the way he made us feel.

I used to have nightmares- even as a child. I would cry out in my sleep and I have memories of this dark shadow with a crew-cut picking me up out of my bed and putting me in bed with my parents and then later taking me back to my own bed. I came to realize later that the shadow was my Dad. But as a teenager my nightmares got worse - demonic in nature - definitely a spiritual attack. They often featured a shadow with a scary voice that was trying to kill me or drive me insane. I couldn’t sleep and I was afraid to go outside alone. My Dad never mocked me or made light of my nightmares. He knew I was afraid and so, every time I left the house when he was home he would walk me to my car. He made sure I felt safe.

We always went to church- to every available service or function. Our church was excellent at Christian community and fun family events that kept us connected with each other in a group of people that shared our convictions and supported each other. My parents also made a commitment to the Lord to send us to a private Christian school all the way through our entire education. It was a financial sacrifice and a strain on one income but they made it work and the Lord honored their commitment.

The kitchen was primarily my Mom’s domain but my Dad enjoyed getting in there from time to time - especially for special occasions. He used to bake cookies with me as his helper when I was young and he was in charge of the cooking on Thanksgiving and Christmas. When I was in late high school my Dad wanted to find a way to get closer to me as we had drifted so he came up with a plan to cook a new recipe with me one night a week. My Mom was banished from the kitchen and we took over once a week. That was so fun and we worked so well together. Working with my Dad - regardless of my age or location (garage or kitchen) was always a joy. He was inhumanly patient and had such a great sense of humor. When I think of him, I always picture him smiling or laughing.

After I moved out of the house I had many situations that I needed to be rescued from. And my Dad was there in a heartbeat every time I called. Once, I had gone to a seminar that ran late and had to fill my car up with fuel on my way home. It was late at night and it was dark and I accidentally locked my keys in the car. I tried to get a police officer who happened to be there to jimmy my lock but policies had changed and he couldn’t jimmy my car door open without proof the car was mine - and that proof was inside my locked car. This was before cell phones. So, I went to the pay phone outside the gas station and called and woke up my Dad who, without lecturing me or complaining about how he had to get up early for work the next day and how inconvenient it was for me to ask him to bail me out, he drove the 30 minutes to my location with the extra set of keys I gave my parents for emergencies. Every time I moved, my Dad helped me with his truck and burly muscles. My Dad was the strongest person I have ever met. He didn’t workout or lift weights but his natural physical strength was incredible and something I took for granted. Once I had gone to see a late-night movie with a friend and we had parked in different areas of the lot so we walked alone to our cars and my battery was dead. I had to find a pay phone outside the theater and call my Dad who again, without expressing any hesitation or displeasure, drove (in the snow this time) to the theater and rescued me. This happened countless times. He never failed to rescue me. My Dad was 100% reliable.

My Dad knew how to make the women in his life feel special and was generous to a fault. He called me his “Sweetie Pie” (called my sister that too - we were his “sweetie pies”). Every year on Valentine’s Day he would get my Mom a dozen roses and jewelry and would get my sister and I each a single red rose and candy or a necklace. Even the first year after I was married he had a bouquet of flowers sent to me in New Mexico on Valentine’s Day. And when our daughter was born and we knew I was going to have to go back to work after my maternity leave, my Dad volunteered to babysit her during the week while I was working which he and my Mom did for 2 1/2 years until our son was born and I stopped working.

My Dad was far from perfect. But he was the perfect Dad for me. I saw him give and give and give - time, resources, hard work. When my husband’s father passed away, my Dad came to our house while I was at work with a cup of coffee in his hand for my husband and sat and just listened to my husband’s heart.

When his own mother developed Alzheimer’s, he drove over to the town he grew up in to help one of his sisters make arrangements for her care. He had power of attorney for his Mom and when he met up with his sister he said “Well, Mom never took very good care of us. But I guess now it’s time for us to take care of her.” And they did. My Dad was never one to hold a grudge.

My Dad read his Bible but I don’t remember him ever teaching me scriptural lessons verbally. I remember theological discussions with my Mom but my Dad taught me scriptural principles by living them. As I said, my Dad had his faults, but he showed me Jesus every day and the closer I get to the Lord, the more I appreciate my Dad for introducing me to Him.

Coffee Confessions

Confession #1: I don’t really like coffee. I have always been more of a tea drinker but tea doesn’t give me the energy boost I need in the morning so I load my morning coffee up with chocolate, flavored syrup, milk, cream, sugar or anything available that hides the taste of the coffee. I like the smell of coffee but plain coffee is just too bitter for my taste buds and I don’t like it. And honestly, the sugar probably works together with the caffeine to help my energy level. My doctor says my fatigue is stronger than caffeine but she probably didn’t realize how much sugar I add to my coffee!

Confession #2: Because I drink a cup of coffee each morning, I get a headache when I have to skip my morning cup of coffee. This means I have at least a slight caffeine addiction so it makes me feel like I NEED a cup of coffee to function. We actually invested in an espresso machine at Christmas a few years ago so it’s sooooo easy to feed this caffeine addiction now.

Confession #3: I don’t have time on Sunday mornings to make and drink a cup of coffee at home so I rely on the coffee served at church between the services to ward off a headache. It actually just dawned on me this morning that I have become so focused on getting that cup of coffee that I am finding myself coming up with a plan to avoid getting into conversations with people before I make it to the counter for coffee because if I get into a conversation that lasts too long I will never get my coffee. Because our sanctuary was recently renovated and there is now carpet in there, we are not allowed to bring coffee into the second service so I have to get my coffee quickly after the first service is over or I won’t have time to drink it before the second service begins. It sounds funny on the surface but it isn’t very nice or loving of me - in fact, it’s really quite selfish!

Sitting in church this morning I suddenly felt convicted. I have been putting a cup of coffee ahead of fellowship! Drinking coffee in and of itself isn’t wrong but putting it ahead of showing care and concern for my brothers and sisters in Christ IS wrong.

So, I am going to resolve to stop plotting to avoid people before I make my way to the coffee counter on Sunday mornings and I will be available to talk to anyone who crosses my path to my caffeine and sugar fix and trust that the Lord put that person in my path and will faithfully sustain me even if I have to skip the coffee that morning.

Why am I relying on coffee anyway? I have Jesus and He is all sufficient! This is what He has been whispering in my ear today.

Wrestling

On Monday night, I should have been in bed but I wanted to finish up my blog post and I knew there would be no time on Tuesday to do it. So, after saying goodnight to my kids, I went downstairs to finish writing. My 13 year old son kept getting up and coming downstairs to check on me. I thought he was trying to be sneaky and get me to go to bed so he could get his chrome book and have it in his room at night. I was suspicious because it was unusual for him to keep coming downstairs to hug me. He said it was because he missed me but I knew there was more to his sudden clinginess. I finished up and went upstairs with my son and got him back into bed where I continued to quiz him about his odd behavior that evening. He had no real answers but before I left his room he said he hoped I wouldn’t ever die. I told him I would die some day but we could pray that it wouldn’t happen soon and then he said he hoped I would never abandon him. My son was wrestling with fear of abandonment. I assured him I would NEVER abandon him and told him I loved him and would see him in the morning.

Once in bed I fell asleep quickly. And I dreamed that I was at my parents’ house and there was a tapping at the front door. I was afraid there was something scary on the other side of the door but the tapping persisted so I slowly opened the door and standing there was my Dad, smiling and motioning with his index finger for me to come outside. I followed him outside - I was no longer afraid because my Dad was there. Then he pointed to a very large and beautiful Azalea bush outside the front door (where there have been Azaleas for as long as I can remember) and he said “This plant was really struggling, but then I loved and nurtured it.” And then I suddenly woke up! I felt there was going to be a lesson my Dad was going to teach me but for some reason I found myself awake and disappointed by a disrupted dream about my Dad who passed away in 2017.

I tried to go back to sleep but there was a deep darkness that I could feel. I suddenly realized that something was preventing me from getting some much-needed rest so I wouldn’t have the energy to have coffee with and be a testimony to my unsaved friend and former boss the next morning. I knew that’s what was happening because all these thoughts about her kept flooding my mind - crazy thoughts like maybe she would be so opposed to Christ that she might become unhinged and might even kill me in my own home. Absolutely ridiculous thoughts fueled by the fears my son had expressed earlier. I was praying silently that the Lord would fill me and our home so full of His love that this demonic presence would flee but nothing changed other than my determination and resolve not to succumb to fear. Then I realized that the spiritual realm can plant thoughts but cannot read my thoughts. If I wanted my prayers to be heard by spirits (other than Jesus who is the ONLY one who actually CAN hear our thoughts), I needed to pray out loud! So I did. I prayed that the Lord would put a bubble of protection around me and our family. I quoted scripture after scripture about God’s power, love and protection and about how perfect love casts out fear. I proclaimed the name of Jesus and banished those thoughts and associated fears and told anyone or anything that could hear me that I would NOT be bullied into silence. And I immediately felt calm, comforted, protected and safe. I felt that cold, dark, oppressive presence leave and I fell back asleep, cradled in the hand of Jesus.

I wrestled with spiritual darkness and Jesus won the battle for me!

I have been evaluating these events and I believe they are connected. I think my son sensed that I was about to be under attack and potentially in danger and he was concerned about me - he wanted to protect me. I told him the next day that if that happens again he should pray - I have noticed that God seems to speak directly to my son’s heart sometimes and it shows in some of the things he says or does. It’s a gift he doesn’t fully recognize or understand but I hope to help him develop that gift into a powerful resource for God to use.

And God gave me the energy to have a lovely visit with my friend and we are planning to get together again very soon. Praying for her salvation and not letting anything prevent me from continuing to be a testimony for Jesus Christ!

I felt emptied of all my strength and energy after all of that which followed a very challenging few days. I took a nap yesterday because, after all of these experiences, my husband came home at about 10pm from a trip and I stayed up with him while he got out of his uniform and un-wound from and shared his own stressful experiences while eating a snack and watching a little TV before finally heading to bed. So the next day I was tired and empty and needed rest. I was ALMOST asleep when the neighbors behind us started up their weed whacker. So I just laid in bed praying. I got up feeling much better even though I hadn’t gotten any sleep. I have discovered that I don’t need to sleep to get rest when I am resting in the arms of Jesus.

My conclusion is that I must be doing something right if I am worthy of being attacked spiritually. I am a nobody in the Lord’s army - just a lowly foot soldier or the guy holding the flag. But the enemy doesn’t attack ineffective soldiers cowering behind trees. So I will continue to boldly march (or limp 😉) with the Lord into battle - to win souls.

Recovery Day!

There are many realities that I have to accept about having a chronic illness like MS and one of those realities is that I need to pace myself and limit major activities to one or maybe two a day to be able to maintain a reasonably consistent energy level during the week. Another reality is that I can’t always control what a day will hold so on the days when I can’t avoid scheduling multiple major tasks I need to make sure to plan time during my week to recover - especially when I have multiple busy days in a row like this week. Today was supposed to be my recovery day and boy did I need it!

On Saturday we had a family gathering to celebrate our daughter’s upcoming 16th birthday. She asked that her birthday lunch be at Qdoba so that’s where we went as soon as our guests arrived. As an aside, at a previous visit we had mentioned that we would be back for her 16th birthday and they were excited, asked details and said they would push tables together and reserve them for our group. When we got to Qdoba on Saturday we found tables pushed together with a shiny table cloth on it and decorated with a sign and balloons. They gave us free chips and queso for our party and our daughter’s entree was free as well. They really went the extra mile to make her day special!

After lunch we went back to our house for gift opening and for dessert (she requested angel food cake (which I baked on Friday) with strawberries and cool whip). Family members stayed and even played a round of Uno before heading home. It was a fun day. I actually felt really good all day, even that evening when everyone had left I still had energy!

The next day was Sunday and aside from church there was nothing major going on. I didn’t even have to prepare a meal because we all had Qdoba left-overs. So I got a LITTLE bit of a break Sunday afternoon.

Monday morning I got some more rest but my Bible reading kept getting interrupted by my husband. Thankfully, he decided to get into the kitchen and make a delicious soup (which we had for dinner that night) while I finished up my reading. The afternoon was a little nuts once the kids got home from school because we had to eat dinner early and head to our daughter’s school for her Spring choir concert. The concert started at 6:30pm but she had to be there by 6pm. It went until 8:30. We went home without her because she went with her choir to Dairy Queen afterwards. I picked her up at around 10:30pm.

I didn’t get to bed until almost midnight on Monday night and Tuesday morning came much too quickly! My husband left town Tuesday morning which was also our daughter’s official birthday and I had a big list of things I needed to accomplish before noon because I was planning to pick her up early from school that day to go to the Department of Licensing to get her driver’s license and her friends were coming over to our house at 4pm for her party and my daughter had requested a taco bar.

So, Tuesday, already behind the 8-ball on sleep, I dropped the kids off at school and went shopping for taco bar ingredients. I was so tired that I decided I really needed to spend time with the Lord once I got home. Sounds counter-productive but time spent reading my Bible and in prayer always energizes me! So, after some holy rejuvenation, I started doing some cleaning and decorating. Then I made a quick trip to Qdoba (yes, again) to get a huge catering bag full of their fresh made chips and a couple of tubs of queso for the party as well as an order of chips and pico de gallo (for my son who wasn’t invited to the party.😉). After that I went and picked up some lunch for my daughter at Chick-Fil-A and headed to her school to pick her up. We ended up waiting a little over an hour to get her license but she got it and then we left to go pick my son up from school.

Then the REAL work began! I spent the next 3+ hours in the kitchen cooking taco meat, Mexican rice, black beans, warming tortillas, chips and queso, setting up the taco bar and cleaning as I went. While the girls were eating tacos I was cutting up strawberries and preparing everything for the strawberry shortcake my daughter had requested. I took food up to my son at about 6pm and I ate a little after that. I had to take a break for a few minutes with a cup of tea upstairs while the hilarity happened with the girls downstairs. I love my daughter and her friends but I also get sensory overload around them sometimes- especially after a busy day on reduced rest!

The party ended at 8pm and then it was time to clean up. Thankfully, I was able to push through and get everything cleaned up and kids to bed. And guess what? Everything got done even though I took a good 45 minutes out of my busy schedule to spend time with the Lord - 45 minutes I didn’t think I could spare when I got up that morning but then discovered it was the only way I was going to make it through the day.☺️ I was in bed by 10:30.

I didn’t leave any clean-up for myself to do today because I knew I was going to need today to recover from all the busyness of the previous several days. It was awesome to just come home after dropping the kids off at school, get some coffee and spend an hour of un-interrupted time with the Lord, reading my Bible and praying. I wrote a letter too and then I ran a quick errand to exchange one of my daughter’s gifts and then back home for a hot shower (which usually gives me an energy boost) and then lunch.

The respite ended there though - my son had early release from school today and it was chore day for the kids - so he cleaned (under my supervision) and then took a shower and when that was done I left to go get his sister from school. I dropped her off at home to do her cleaning and then took my son to the bowling alley to meet his friend for a fun time bowling and playing in the arcade. Then home at about 5:45 and it was time to fix dinner and pack lunches.

I then took my daughter (she drove but we aren’t letting her drive alone yet even though she has her license because we need to talk with her about the rules and we haven’t had a chance to do that yet) to Old Navy because she has a birthday party to go to next weekend and needed to buy her friend a gift. I told her I needed rest so we could go but I was staying in the car.

It is now 9:30pm and the day is over. My son is in bed and my daughter is drying her hair after a shower. Surprisingly, I don’t feel to badly considering I didn’t get as much rest as I had hoped for.

Tomorrow (Thursday) I will get an hour of time with the Lord in after dropping the kids off at school and then an unsaved friend (and former boss) will be knocking on my door to come inside and have coffee with me. I pray I will be a good testimony to her and that I will not be yawning through our time together- sends a bad message! Her husband is the son of a former elder at our church whose wife asked us to “pray for our boys” before she passed away). I have tried to maintain contact with them and they live just up the road from us. I pass their house every day taking the kids to and from school. I pray for them often as I pass by their home - especially when I see them out walking or getting their mail. In any case, I am looking forward to a chat over coffee - but it will require focus and energy and I am praying I have recovered enough by then - and that my time with the Lord in the morning will give me the additional boost necessary to be an effective witness and a compassionate friend.

I don’t know how long we will have together. But I will need to run a load of laundry at some point tomorrow and gather up the garbage and take it out. After school I have a meeting with my son’s special education case manager to go over his IEP plan to determine how it might need to be modified for next year.

I am trusting the Lord to carry me through the rest of this week and then there will be a 3-day weekend and that hopefully means a more prolonged rest period.

I am exhausted but I am extremely fortunate because I am still able to push myself to get things done, albeit more slowly and clumsily when I’m fatigued. There are MANY people who suffer with MS who frequently hit a brick wall and physically can’t push themselves further. I have hit that wall before and I never quite know when it might happen again so I really try not to over-commit myself. Generally what happens to me is I can keep going physically long after my brain stops being able to process and help me communicate. As long as I have a list of things that need to get done, I can usually finish it - I just can’t speak coherently while doing it which can be extremely frustrating to anyone trying to work with or help me.

This is a long post and I need to get to bed. But the point of my story is that God is faithful and if you make time for Him, He will make time for you and help you to fulfill your obligations. Don’t neglect your Bible or quiet time with the Lord - you need it more than you think you do.😊

Life Goals

I have had many goals in this life. As a kid my goals were things associated with school and, ultimately, finishing school. As a young adult my goals were things like finding a good job, supporting myself and finding a life partner. After I was married my goals became more shared goals with my husband - things like finding employment in the different places we lived to contribute to meeting our mutual financial obligations, supporting my husbands’ different career advancements and our mutual goal of getting back to the Seattle area where our families were, buying a house, having children and ultimately leaving the workforce to become a homemaker. Having accomplished these goals, I have new goals - things like getting more exercise and strengthening my muscles to slow down my physical decline, eating better, losing weight, helping our children get through school and grow spiritually as well, etc. I am sure you have a list of your own goals be they personal or professional.

But I have only 1 LIFE goal that never changes. When I was in high school, our Bible teacher showed us a video of an interview with someone - I remember almost nothing about who or why or even what it was about. But I still remember this one thing: when asked what his future goals were, he said “To go to heaven and take as many people with me as I can.” From that moment on, that became MY life goal. And that has shaped my thinking and helped me prioritize my life. It is something that is always in my head. Am I being a good testimony? Am I being a good example? Am I being a good representative for Christ? Is my speech edifying? Are my actions honoring to God? Would my life draw anyone to Christ? Am I available to talk to someone about Jesus? Am I willing? So many of these questions swirl around in my head as I live out this life. And I often evaluate things I do or say after it’s all said and done and ask God whether I took a step closer or a step backward. I take a lot of backward steps and I do not claim, by any means, to be very GOOD at living my life in a way that is always honoring to God. I am terribly wicked by nature and my motives are not always as pure as I wish they were. But like I said, this is my life’s GOAL. It is something I am striving for. It gives me a purpose and an exciting reason to get up each morning! If I fail to move forward toward this goal at the end of the day I talk to God about it and ask forgiveness and for strength to try again tomorrow.

It’s a goal that can never fully be achieved in this lifetime which is what makes it a perfect goal for me to strive for because I never have to set a new goal to replace it with. I have motivation for each day - to live my life in such a way that I can gather as many people together as I can and take them to heaven with me. My goal IS ultimately achievable. My hope is for a crowd of people I can persuade to meet me in heaven but, in the end, if I am doing my best and meet only 1 person in heaven that came to know Christ through my testimony, I will still have met my goal and I will feel blessed!

Aloneness

It’s not a big surprise that there are a lot of lonely people in this world. This is not a new phenomenon - we were created to desire relationships. I have thought a LOT over the past many years about loneliness. The reason I have had this on my mind more recently is that there have been many people in my circle who have confided in me that they (or someone they love) often feel lonely. One told me that he feels lonely even around his family - like he doesn’t belong. I have been there but not for a long time. It’s not a comfortable place to be and I don’t think it’s a place we HAVE to be - or at least we shouldn’t stay there, wallowing in our loneliness.

I do remember feeling like no one cared about me even in the face of significant evidence to the contrary - wondering if anyone would miss me if I disappeared. It took me years to realize that people will always disappoint and it took even longer to be okay with that. People cannot be relied upon (or expected) to meet our deeper needs for unconditional love and acceptance. I finally realized that God was the only truly solid, forever friend I was ever going to find. And then I quickly realized that God is ENOUGH for me. I can be alone without feeling lonely. And, in fact, now I really enjoy my times of aloneness. Being alone has become a joy and a comfort.

I really struggled with why some of the people I really wanted to be around, didn’t seem to want to be around ME. I once heard a saying that helped me during that time to recognize that I needed to take responsibility for making myself into the woman God wanted me to be and He would bring the right people into my life. The saying was this “Become the kind of person you want to attract.” A principle found in scripture in the first part of Proverbs 18:24 - “A man who has friends must himself be friendly,…”. Another saying I heard and took to heart was that “No one cares how much you know until they know how much you care.” Wow! That one hit me smack between the eyes! I so wanted people to care about ME but I wasn’t thinking about THEM or caring about what THEY might need. I had my focus in the wrong place.

Re-focusing my eyes upward, I learned how to forget about looking to others to meet the needs only God is able to meet perfectly. Once I got my eyes off myself, I realized how many hurting people were all around me and the Holy Spirit worked inside my heart to help me start empathizing with the struggles of others and forgetting about my own struggles. I choose now to put any thoughts about myself to the side and reach out to others- when I do that, I find I spend less and less time alone and more and more time serving the Lord by caring for others.

There are times that we have no choice but to struggle alone. When I was in my late teens and early 20’s I used to have horrible nightmares. I was afraid to go to sleep. I put verses on my wall and prayed but my nightmares continued. I would often stay awake all night, terrified to go to sleep. No one could be there with me through those nights. I wish I could go back in time and tell my younger self that surrendering my whole self to God and accepting His love and protection was the answer to resolving my fears.

Through those times of loneliness and fear I FINALLY (I am not the fastest learner) developed a deep knowledge of the love the Lord has for me.

I am a very visual person - I picture things I read, hear or imagine vividly. At night I started picturing myself curled up sleeping in the palm of Jesus’ enormous hand - so comforting - and I felt secure. Gradually the nightmares went away.

I heard another saying in more recent years that I shared with a cousin of mine struggling with a serious meth addiction: “When you hit rock bottom, you discover that Jesus is the rock at the bottom.” I am not claiming to ever have truly hit rock bottom. But in my weakness, I admit sometimes it has sure felt that way!

Now I have MS. I am often overwhelmed by the activities swirling around me. I get over-stimulated by the noise of the TV in the background or the constant sound of people talking. My husband pointed out that we, as human beings, were not designed to be able to handle constant stimulation. Our brains need a break. We NEED time away from the noise to rest and recharge. The truth is that, as believers, we are NEVER alone!

We need to get comfortable with being quiet and alone with the Lord. He alone knows what we need. He alone provides the quiet rest and comfort we need to be the people He created us to be.

I generally have a running commentary in my head - an open dialog with the Lord. I am constantly praying. But when I am feeling overwhelmed I just get to a quiet room and ask the Holy Spirit to speak to the Father for me and I often close my eyes and imagine Jesus wrapping His strong arms around me in a loving hug. I can FEEL that! Sometimes the love pouring into me through that “God hug” is so powerful it makes me cry. And there is no human being on this earth who can hug me like that or make me feel that way.

So, I think some day when I am an empty nester I will enjoy my aloneness and I don’t think I will often feel lonely. And if I DO get lonely, I won’t stay that way because I will ALWAYS be surrounded by God’s loving, protective arms.

The Outcasts

I was never one of the “popular” kids in school. I had a long awkward phase and it took a long time for me to figure out where I fit in. I went to a private, Christian school from preschool through 12th grade. My parents sacrificed to send me and my sister there because they had made a commitment to the Lord. My graduating class was small - under 50 kids. When you go to a school like that, everyone knows who you are and everyone sees you as you make your way through every awkward phase of life. Some people breeze through adolescence without the outwardly awkward changes in body shape, skin (acne), make-up and hair experiments, etc. I wasn’t one of the lucky ones in this area. I was an ugly duckling and my classmates were unwilling to overlook (or forget) my awkward phases. Until late high school, my best friend was my next door neighbor (from an atheist family). All this meant that I was available when a new person enrolled in our school. The kids who fit in with the “popular” crowd were immediately accepted into that group but the kids who were there because they were kicked out of a previous school, for instance, and sent to our school to get a more positive influence in their lives, were shunned by the more popular kids. Being an outcast myself I was able to befriend some of these kids who did not seem to fit in anywhere.

One such “misfit” when I was in junior high was a girl who wore black leather, smelled of cigarettes and carried a small flask of alcohol with her at school. She confided many disturbing things to me about her life and I was able to witness to her. I sent her a subscription to a Christian teen magazine too and tried really hard to influence her for good. The “popular” kids wouldn’t talk to her but they ALL wanted to know her story so they would ask ME. I was so angry- they only wanted to gossip about her but didn’t really want to know her. She didn’t attend our school for very long - I think she was only there for one semester. This was before email, social media and cellphones and I lost all contact with her. This might have been her only opportunity to be reached for Christ and I was the ONLY one in our school willing to befriend her. Looking back, I am grateful for the opportunity to be a witness for Christ. I am thankful now that I was NOT one of the “popular” kids because I was able to be available to be used by God in a way I couldn’t have been if I had a group of “friends” to impress.

Since then I have tended to look for the people who are more on the fringe - outside the “popular” groups. I have found them to be more genuinely interested in developing meaningful relationships with people and they are genuinely grateful when someone shows an interest in them. Some of these people are actually IN the “popular” group but are seeking genuine friendship they are unable to find inside their “friend” group.

The Pharisees were the “popular kids” in Bible times. Always trying to impress others and unwilling to “defile” themselves by associating with the outcasts of society. Jesus was an outcast. He was a carpenter by trade. Many of his disciples were fishermen. One was a tax collector. Sunday school children have cute songs and hear sweet stories about Peter, James and John leaving their boats and becoming fishers of men. But if you really consider what the life of a fisherman is like you understand that it is a hard life - hard work, hard living and they become hard men. Brawling, fighting, cursing, partying in their off time, men who smell of fish and sweat and who are on the fringe of society. Jesus was able to reach them because they more clearly understood their desperate need of acceptance and love.

We have had many people walk through the doors of our church who were on the fringe, outcasts of society. How do we react to them? Do we greet them? Do we spend time trying to get to know them? Do we show them care and concern?

One Sunday morning several years ago a man stood up at our breaking of bread service and said that before the service had started a woman walked in to our church who said she had cancer and wanted to know how to be saved. She was one of the homeless people that used to hang around outside our church but this was her first time actually coming INSIDE. She was scared, probably an addict of some sort, but recognizing her time was short she was looking for hope. This man told us that he hadn’t had the time to spend really talking with her because the service was about to start and he didn’t want to be late. He used the story to illustrate some point that was lost on me because I couldn’t believe he would view being on time for a church service as more important then BEING the church and giving this poor lost soul enough of his time to at least tell her how to be saved. She left and never came back. Is it possible, as the above verse suggests, that she could have been an angel sent to test the practicality of our teaching? Are we practicing what we preach?

I decided after that to do my best to meet every visitor to our church and spend time getting to know them. And not just the first Sunday they visit- but to greet them and spend a few minutes talking with them on every Sunday they come until I know they are firmly established and have others to talk to. I also really try to be approachable and available when anyone needs to talk or a word of encouragement. We don’t have to make a big investment to make a big impact on the lives of others. And I have met some of the most interesting people! You should try it… maybe you’ll meet an angel.😉

Brace Yourself!

I have a foot drop on my left side. Essentially, my brain can no longer get a strong (or fast) enough signal down to my ankle to get it to keep my foot level when I am walking. My foot just flops when I lift it (and I can’t lift my leg high enough to compensate without looking ridiculously awkward) so my toe often drags and catches- even on smooth, even surfaces - and sometimes I fall. A year ago my neurologist recommended that I get this simple (and inexpensive) device to brace my left foot and keep the toe from dragging when I walk and greatly reducing my risk of tripping and falling. This advice came in the wake of a very serious tumble I had taken a few months prior to my appointment with him.

But I have always had this frustratingly hard head and I seem to have to learn things the hard way. I bought a cane for when I am going to do a lot of walking but no brace. I discovered that a cane does nothing to prevent me from tripping. It might keep me from falling sometimes but I can still trip.

My neurologist also suggested I do stretching and strength training exercises to help strengthen my legs which would also help me catch myself in the event I trip and start to fall. But I didn’t do that either and now my legs are much weaker than they were a year ago and it is MUCH more difficult for me to motivate myself to exercise.

My doctor repeated his advice at my visit with him this year. And this time I immediately went home and ordered the brace for my foot. It’s easy to use and it keeps my foot from catching- even keeps it level going up and down the stairs.

I have learned a lot about humility and trust in this past year. Yes, I trust in the protection of the Lord. But I have learned more about how little I can be trusted. I have learned that I have no control over anything- I can’t even make my ankle move the way I want it to. I trust God to give me the strength and energy to meet the challenges each day presents. But I realize more and more that I am not doing my part to keep myself in the best shape possible to be as effective as I would otherwise be. If I am serious about my commitment to follow the leading of the Lord in my life regardless of the opposition I face, I need to make sure my body is up to the task just as I equip myself with the armor of God and make sure I am spiritually strong.

This is not easy for me to admit. I am not the kind of person who easily accepts help. I don’t like to burden others and I don’t like to admit weakness. MS is a very humbling disease. And it is exactly what I needed in my life to shape me into the mold God has planned for my life.

Comforting Whisper

On Monday night my phone suddenly went black.  I got it working again and then it kept restarting and it was obvious it was not going to last much longer.   It had been dropped too many times and the case is warped.  I got it working the next day but it's just a matter of time before it becomes unusable so we will be replacing our phones this week.   One more thing on my list for the week!

Tuesday morning my husband left on a trip and I got the kids off to school and then I had to get started on my grocery shopping right away- and had to drop in to the Verizon store to do some information gathering so we would be prepared to replace our phones when my husband got back from his trip.   I had just enough time after that to get home, get the groceries put away and sit down for 20 minutes with a cup of coffee and my Bible.   At that moment,  my husband called- he had about 10 minutes to talk before taking off and we discussed what I found out at the Verizon store.   Then I had to leave to volunteer at my son's school.  I stopped by the thrift store on my way home and discovered my friend there had quit her job.  Fortunately,  I can still stay in touch with her via text.  Finally, I got home, had lunch and got my Bible reading done.   I much prefer to get my time with the Lord in before the craziness of my day begins but that's not always possible.   After I picked the kids up from school we dropped off their backpacks and headed out to visit our 98 year old friend that I have mentioned before.   We had an awesome visit with him and left uplifted and encouraged as usual- I LOVE visiting with him and his family.   I always learn something fascinating!  We got home, had dinner and then I baked a cake for my sister's birthday celebration.   Then I packed the kids' lunches.  After I got my son to bed, my daughter and I stayed up too late talking but we don't get much one-on-one time so it was a sweet sacrifice of my sleep.

Wednesday morning I finished up my grocery shopping after dropping the kids off at school,  washed the kids' bedding,  and started my Bible reading but couldn't finish before I had to leave for my annual neurology visit.   That visit and associated lab work took 2 hours.  I got home at about 1pm and I had only an hour and a half to finish my Bible reading,  finish getting the kids' bedding done and beds made, make frosting and frost the cake I had baked the day before, fill out a birthday card and get everything packed up and ready to pick the kids up from school. Straight from school my son had a counseling appointment and after that we went to my Mom's house to celebrate my sister's birthday.   My Mom had also had surgery that day to remove a cyst from her finger so I wanted to check in on her too.  It was a fun evening but we got home later than I had hoped - especially since I had gone to bed so late the night before and I had to get everything put away,  the kids to bed and pack lunches before heading to bed myself- again,  too late!

This morning I had to get the kids out to school,  round up and take out the garbage and finally, I got to sit down,  with nothing on my plate, and just spend some much- needed time with the Lord.  

And this is the first passage I read:

‭‭I Kings‬ ‭19:11‭-‬13‬

Then He said, “Go out, and stand on the mountain before the Lord.” And behold, the Lord  passed by, and a great and strong wind tore into the mountains and broke the rocks in pieces before the Lord, but the Lord  was not in the wind; and after the wind an earthquake, but the Lord  was not in the earthquake; and after the earthquake a fire, but the Lord  was not in the fire; and after the fire a still small voice. So it was, when Elijah heard it, that he wrapped his face in his mantle and went out and stood in the entrance of the cave. Suddenly a voice came to him, and said, “What are you doing here, Elijah?”

I just started CRYING!  On my way home from dropping the kids off at school this morning I had remembered that today I'd the National Day of Prayer.   I was talking to the Lord and telling Him that I had been so busy and distracted and was so tired that the Holy Spirit wad going to have to intercede for me in prayer today.   And the Lord just whispered powerfully to me this morning- just immediately calmed me and re-directed my thoughts.   Brought my focus and attention back to Him and wrapped me up in His loving and powerful arms and said "What are you doing here, Darla?"  All I could do was just cry!

My husband will be home soon and we will dash out the door to get our phones replaced before I have to pick the kids up from school and then work on dinner.  But I recognize my NEED for daily quiet time with the Lord - time that is not rushed or crammed in to fit my schedule.   This is what I was talking about in my last post - the reduction in activity and chaos that MS has brought into my life.  The ability to structure most of my days to allow for my necessary communion with God - my Rock.  And on the days when life attacks me and drags me around by the scruff of my neck, I miss out on the whisper of God.  I need to try not to let that happen very often!