Sunday, June 26, 2005

This is great

Jamie's at Calvin Crest for a week and I can write anything I want to on her blog. Hmmmmmm. Seriously, I just left 14 campers, Jamie, Irisa and Morgan at Outpost. God is doing a mighty thing there this week, I smelled it in the mountain air and saw it on every face. Please pray this week 'cause 14 lives are about to be turned upside down with love.

Saturday, June 25, 2005

a prayer for our girls


A few years ago I moved this woman named Nancy into my home. She had lost all three of her kids to C.P.S. due to her addiction to crack, and just bad living in general. I drove her to 90 meetings in 90 days. She got clean. She got saved. It was a miracle.

Last month she celebrated five years clean, sober, and loving Jesus.

I keep thinking about this story she told me once. She sat there smoking, talking quietly, lost in her memory.

She was strung out really bad, so bad she couldn't cope with anything, not even the sound of the refrigerator humming, so she locked herself in her bedroom for three days. Her daughter Destiny was about six at the time.

Destiny was so hungry, scared, lonely, and desperate that she lay on the floor outside the bedroom door, calling to her mother, who would not answer her. Finally Destiny put her hand under the door, her chubby little fingers sticking out on Nancy's side. Nancy could see them from where she lay on the bed.

"Please Mommy, just touch my fingers. So I can know you're okay."

"I couldn't even go to her, Jamie," Nancy said to me through eyes burning with pain. "I wanted to, but I couldn't."

Tomorrow I am taking 13 young girls up to Outpost at Calvin Crest. All of these girls come from homes similar to or worse than Destiny's. They are all hungry for a touch, some reassurance, a sign that there is a love that will reach a very deep and lonely place.

Please pray with me that they feel Jesus reaching for them, and that the grasp of His loving hand is what they cling to for all of their days.

Friday, June 24, 2005

today was a good day, finally!

today was a good day, finally! i got sleep, Yea! i got to swim and layout in the neighbors pool, Yea! i got to talk to my sick son, who was very content to be throwing up at camp, he has been having a lot of visitors and he loves every minute of that. zed told me that tynin has been to see him a few times, miracle, usually they are so awful to each other. he told me that he got a letter from callista, typical, she is the sweetest most loyal sister anyone could wish for. dave and i got to eat dinner with my dad(george) and that was fun! he always makes me laugh. dave and i went shopping and laughed and enjoyed each others company. we watched hitch and both enjoyed it. we made plans to drive to oakhurst and spend the night tomorrow so that i won't be so tired that i can't go get the kids with him on saturday. we also talked about going to the movies in oakhurst and eating at the forks. it felt good to be getting along and i was excited to make "date" plans. but the best part about today, it was the first day in a week without a headache!!! i didn't put a sweatshirt on all day, which is very odd, as most of the time i am freezing. i only took 2 naps today, instead of 3or 4. i was able to eat dinner. and i was able to walk through two stores before my legs got too tired. and tonight, my husband actually cuddled with me, and i felt like i was safe in my own home again. what a difference 24 hours can make! thank you jesus for this day! i needed a good day to come along.

Thursday, June 23, 2005

BEST BAT LINE


Saw Batman Begins last night.

Drove home with Brad and the kids arguing over who would have made a better Batman character.

Candidates:

Johnny Depp (Emily's)
Tommy Lee Jones (Brad's--he got laughed at because, um, duh...he had already been a Batman villain)
Russell Crowe (mine)
Viggo Mortenson (Nate's--and the OBVIOUS winner)

Best line in the movie:

"Don't burden yourself with the secrets of the scary people."

Word to that.

a tortured mother's tale

Today was hard. Yesterday was hard. This week, the whole month have been hard. Somedays it seems more than I can take. Constant appts. and tests, no answers, feeling crappy, hating being married. Really hating it on some days. This month has sucked! And no prayer on Tuesdays, I never really realized how much it meant, even though I thought I did, until this month, I felt so isolated, so scared, and so wishing that I could just see my friends, just to feel a part of something. Especially missed seeing my "dad". It felt as if my heart would never mend. I found myself, building up walls, shutting off tears, making my heart like ice. I didn't want to feel, i didn't want to face things alone, i just thought, I could make it go away if I didn't let myself feel. Truth is i still feel awful, and don't know if i have created more problems for later on down the road as far as my mind, and it's wonderfully stupid ability to split apart when things get too hard. Somedays only my children keep me going, and this week they are all at camp. I am thrilled that they are, but I miss them so much! My heart aches and yearns to hear their voices, to feel them cautiously squeeze me so that they don't hurt me. Today was bad, we got the call from the nurse at camp, Zedie was sick. They called Dave. I wanted to drive up and hold him and make him feel better, Zedie called me a few hours later, he didn't want to leave. He didn't need his mommy. I needed to be needed. I have for the past month, longed for someone to let me be needed, to let me cry, to hold me, to make me feel at least like if I couldn't feel better at least i could feel loved and cared for. I want every second to call up to camp, to see if my son is ok, but i know that he is in a great place, one where he is cared for, where he is protected, and loved and spiritually safe. I sent him there, because I know how i feel when i am there, and there is no other place i would want my son or daughters to be if they were away from me. But, today, as a mother, i am tortured by missing my kids, by feeling like i am not needed, by wishing the time would go faster so i could once again hold them. they make me complete, they make my life have purpose and meaning, and they have taught me to love and to not be afraid to love and show affection, they make it ok to be just a mom, because it seems so important when i look at them. So I will wait until Saturday, probably a little impatiently, but i will, and then i will listen to their stories, and count their mosquito bites, and probably wonder why i was so anxious for them to return to me. But it will be precious to my heart and I can't wait!

my reality

people say "you look great"
my reality is i feel like shit
people say "i like your haircut"
my reality is i had to cut it because i am losing my hair
people say "you look skinny"
my reality is the scale doesn't lie
people say "you look rested"
my reality is i am exhausted
people say "aren't you happy to have no kids this week?"
my reality is i feel like a huge part of me is missing
people say "you are so lucky to be married to dave"
my reality is most days it sucks
people say "you are so multi-facted"
my reality is my stupid brain is fractured
people say "your life is so great"
my reality is
yeah i think they are right

Tuesday, June 21, 2005

In the summertime when the weather is fine...

you can stretch right up
and touch the sky...

That's how the song goes.

And the weather is fine and I have been seeing some mighty nice skies lately. But still.

This happens in the summertime. I get hungry and dry. Not like hungry for a nice sharp cheese and some good bread, and not dry like it's hot and I haven't been drinking enough water--though both are true I suppose.

Summers are a blur of trips and camping and backpacking and events for the kids--my own as well as the ones Jesus brings me--and coming home to water limp plants and clean out over stuffed email in-boxes and voice mail and wash the dirty clothes in the suitcase so I can stick them back in again... you know the routine... you're probably doing it too.

We don't get to church much in the summer. We're pretty much gone every Sunday. Not that church leaves me feeling particularly satisfied, to tell you the truth. Mostly when it comes to 'church' I feel like I am famished but the only place open is Hometown Buffet, and all the food is garishly colored and full of grease, but I'm starving, you know? So I pick around and finally find some fresh fruit and maybe a cheese enchilada or something, and I eat it, and I'm not starving anymore but I don't really feel all that content either. And often I feel even worse later. Like I would have been better off not eating at all.

And our Tuesday prayer nights are kaput until the summer is over and camps are done. So I miss that connection, the worship, our prayer family.

I had three days alone at the cabin, on the creek, mostly hiking and reading--which was great--but day three I found myself fidgeting with an old radio there, searching for something, and landed on a station that played sermons all day long. I lapped it up--all of it: the shaky old lady voice singing "Shall We Gather at the River"; the ladies choir singing some lame song about needing new shoes...the shoes of the gospel, don'tcha know; and even McGee, with his preposterous notions and nasally incessant yammering. I gobbled it all in like a steaming plate of polenta. Comfort food.

I need to get better at just sitting down and reading my Bible. I mean, good grief--it's there all the time. Every season. I talk talk talk to God--how patient He is... always happy to hear from me... perhaps the real reason I have loved Him so hard and so long... but how often do I just sit down and read His word? Um, I could tell you, but I'd have to kill you. So it's up to me, and I'm feeling the pull. It's time I answered it.

It's summertime and weather is fine, and I've got Jesus I've got Jesus on my mind.

Monday, June 20, 2005

Home is where the heart aches

Yesterday was huge for me...emotionally I mean. We returned home after being away for 10 days of rest, renwewal, and rebuilding to be hit by an unexpected and unyielding behemoth of emotion. After a long and restful vacation I went to bed thoroughly exhausted.

Nate and Emily also returned from a week long trip with their father's family. The experience at the airport was overwhelming: seeing my kids walk down that long corridor coming home to me from planes and boats and an Alaskan adventure, and an unexpected reunion with their dad's family... people I love and who used to be my family but aren't now I guess but are still my children's family... ex (?) nieces and nephews who are grow
n now...older people who are REALLY older now... we were all so happy to see one another after many years... My heart felt welled up and achy in my chest.

My kids had so much to tell me, of sweet and tender glimpses of romance, and eyes opened from exposure to people with whom they instantly bonded and then almost as quickly saw stripped away from them... I sat on the edge of their beds, one at a time, and heard their hearts, a
nd I was brimming with love, and gratitude for being given such amazing children.

And perhaps the most heart-wrenching of all.... Brad and I went to visit his dad, who is in a home for Alzhemiers patients. I watched my husband love this man who is no longer the father he has known and loved all of his life. He is a confused, fragile, fading man, where before he was robust and funny and
strong.

Brad rubs his father's swollen feet, forgives and even tenderly responds to the absurdities he utters, speaks love and kindness into him, and simply loves him
unconditionally.

Brad looks like Jesus to me when he is with his father, and I sit there watching him, feeling full of love and wonder, and praying I will have that sort of strength if l
ife ever requires it of me.

This week will be full... catching up on things that went undone in my absence... preparing to take young girls to Outpost at Calvin Crest... The whole summer is before me and I don't know all that it will hold. But I do know God will be with me through it, loving me uncon
ditionally, responding to my absurdities, and speaking love and kindness into me.

Brad and his father

Friday, June 10, 2005

A limerick (and goodbye for 10 days)


There once was a woman named Jamie
who said "I need out--can you blame me?"
So she went up the creek
to rest and to seek
before she asked of herself "What became me?!"

a desire of my heart...?


Had a
board meeting last night. Um...yeah. Everybody has parts of their job they don't like, right? And God finds little ways to let me know He is there with me... a hand rubbing my back, a wink across the table, an encouraging word in my ear... And I know that He is moving in hearts, using the ministry to the deprived and needy to shed religiousness and fear in the administration who don't know that they, too, are deprived and needy. He gently and slowly draws His children closer to Him. I know all this. But still.

And occasionally I am privileged to see a heart change. And often my own faith is tested. And I come home and look at my husband, and he knows how it was. And after a little while I remember that it's not me, Lord, who I am in You and who we are together--it's my job... the work You have given me and the battle You have placed me in. And I remember it is a desire of my heart, and You put that there, too, Lord.

And the next morning I get up and am very glad to be going to the mountains with my husband, where there are no phones, email, text messages, or board members. And I know I will come back refreshed and ready to step back into my post, this wonderful, crazy, trying, frightening, exciting, draining, miraculous mission I am blessed to be a part of.


Thursday, June 09, 2005

Faith of our fathers


Today's verse is about Abraham. Nearly every time I hear about him I think of this painting by Rembrandt. It is one of my favorites. Make sure to click on it to get a better look...it's amazing.

My two youngest children are leaving on vacation with their dad. They are going to Alaska on a cruise ship and flying on a commerical airliner for the first time. It is a wonderful adventure for them that they will never forget.

The thing is, I won't see them for about ten days. That's a long time and a lot of trust to send your kids--the same ones you have loved and cared for and tended to for every day of their lives--off on various precarious forms of transportation and whatnot. Yes I know this is a good thing for them, and frankly I am VERY happy to be going off to the mountains alone with Brad... But still. It's a little hard.

So can someone tell me how Abraham had the strength, faith and courage to hold a knife to his son's throat because God told him to?

It boggles the mind.


Wednesday, June 08, 2005

to keep Vesuvius from erupting


I am only about 100 pages into The Agony and the Ecstacy (I've got another 500+ to go) and I am loving it. Thank you Melody for the loan... I am thinking about the passion God puts into people. If it is there you cannot deny it and if ignored I think some sort of implosion takes place, in varying forms.

One of Michelangelo's instructors tries to hold him back from sculpting, as he does not believe his young student is 'ready' yet. When Michelangelo refuses to stop, the frustrated teacher exclaims "As well to try to keep Vesuvius from erupting."

I like that.

When I have left this earth and am with Jesus and my Father in Heaven at long last, I hope people will be able to say that about me and my exuberance to share Him while in this place.

There is sculpting yet to be done. Thankfully my Maker is the most magnificent, patient, and passionately dedicated of all.

Tuesday, June 07, 2005

He wins three!

MTV Movie Awards:
Best Picture: Napolean Dynamite
Breakthrough Performance Male: John Heder
Best Musical Performance: John Heder (his dance)
Nicccceeeee!

Monday, June 06, 2005

Do you know how the clouds hang poised?



This past stormy winter--just a few cabins down from ours-- a tree decided to crack and fall onto our neighbor's porch, just missing the door of the cabin itself. Several times this weekend I would walk past it--or crawl under the huge trunk blocking the path we normally take--and every time I would stop and shake my head in wonder at the sight. I'm sure this sort of thing happens all the time, but for me it was stunning to see. It reminded me that we never know when the storm is going to hit and what form the devastation will take. It also reminds me that God can not only calm the storm, He can cause it. And He can call to us while we are in it.

From the 37th chapter of Job:

He unleashes the lightning...
He thunders with His majestic voice...
He says to the snow/rain/: "Fall on the earth"...
The breath of God produces ice...
He loads the clouds with moisture...

Stop and consider God's wonders. Do you know how God controls the clouds and makes the lightning flash? Do you know how the clouds hang poised, those wonders of Him who is perfect in knowledge?


I choose to put my faith in the One who is perfect in knowledge... the One who laid the earth's foundation and lovingly placed me upon it. In Him will I trust.




Thursday, June 02, 2005

Off to the cabin with husband, kids, dog... and of course Jesus. Yessssss...


The Peace of Wild Things --Wendell Berry

When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life
and my children's lives may be
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.

I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives
with forethought of grief.
I come into the presence
of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light.

For a time
I rest in the grace of the world,
and am free.

Wednesday, June 01, 2005

Out There On the Beam


Last night I learned something from my daughter Emily, which is no rarity. We went to her gymnastics presentation--her first one. She has been enrolled in a gym class for 18 weeks. Emily has never done anything like this before. It was all new to her. On her first day of class she had never done a handstand or a cartwheel. Others in her class who were younger had much more experience, and seemed to pick things up more quickly.

It has taken a lot of hard work, courage, and humility for Emily to not only survive this class, but to excel. I watched her in awe. She tries so hard. She listens to her instructor and then gives it all she's got. It is still hard for her, but she can do it. She walks on her hands and swings her body around on bars and beams... her pretty face flushed and her eyes bright. She accomplished something last night that she has worked all these many weeks to conquer, and she succeeded right there in front of my eyes. The look on her face when she landed and looked up smiling is one I will not forget.

Often I see this thing in myself I do not like. A fear, or an insecurity, or an inability to trust... some combination of these things that ultimately robs me of joy. God has been speaking to me about it lately. He spoke to me again last night through my daughter, who climbed up on that beam and grabbed onto those ropes and in essence, humbly said, "I don't know how to do this. I'm afraid I will fail or get hurt. Can you show me how to do this thing?" And then gave it her all.

Father, help me to look at myself through your eyes, with immeasurably more love than my eyes for my own child. Help me to see that you are pleased with me, delight in me, and take joy in watching me step out and try. Even if I fall or fail or flounder, your heart wells up with love for me. And if I get hurt, I will heal, and learn, and there will be that wondrous feeling of knowing I was out there, even if only for a moment, and you will be there to catch me when I fall, and applaud me when I let go and soar.