Beauty Out Of Ashes

How can I bring you glory, Lord
in weakness?
How can I bring you glory
gripped by fear?
My body becomes entranced
by fear and sadness
while my mind
searches for your hand to lift me up.

Your Word to quench my tongue,
is what I long for.
Your Word to still these fears is what I need.
How can I benefit from this breaking, Lord?
How can this rubble
bring you praise?

God, to my last breath I will confirm your goodness.
In my last effort
I will seek your face.

But while I live, Lord
help me see you.
While I live, Lord
attend my frame.

Once protected from this weight of uncertainty,
let me now dance by the power of your grace.

How can a gift you've given
be taken from me?
How can my joy
be stolen away?

Remind my flesh
of your keeping.
Remind my countenance
of your care.

I'm so sorry Father
for my fear.
I'm so sorry
for shrinking back
I'm sorry
to be frozen by this sadness,
I'm sorry
to be slow to praise.

How can I bring you glory
when I'm broken, Lord?
How can I praise you
from here?

This pile of rubble
belongs to you, Lord.
I surrender what's left of me,
to your care.

You say you make beauty,
out of ashes
and I've felt you carry me
thus far.
So although I'm longing
to see the finish,
I will wait,
my Lord
and hope in you.

How great is the goodness you have stored up
for those who fear you.
You lavish it on those who come to you
for protection,
blessing them before the watching world.
Psalm 31:19

How Can I Help?

What a thoughtful question.
I confess:
I have no idea.
I hope when a need arises,
I'll be brave enough to ask,
but right now,
please pray.

Pray.
It's what folks do
when they don't know what else to do.
"All I can do is pray".
But really it's the best gift.
It says:
I don't know what's best,
will you (God) give what's best?!

The heart of one,
desiring to assist another.

God likes that.

Sometimes in the asking,
the gift is given,
it's an expression of love,
of nearness,
of willingness,
a precious gift.

Once at the gas station a man asked:
Is there anything else I can do for you?
I said: Laundry, maybe?!
and we laughed.
"Can I help you?"
was my favorite question,
I would tell my kids.

To see me washing dishes
or folding laundry,
and have someone sit with me,
and work with me.

Truthfully, I didn't really need the help,
but I loved to spend time with them.
Some of my fondest memories
are of loading dishwashers,
folding laundry, and doing other
menial tasks along side one of my kids.

It was the togetherness
I loved.
So how do I answer the question:
How can I help?
When it comes from a friend
who wants to assist during a trial?
Pray my cancer is not aggressive, please.
I would rather avoid Kemo.

Pray I would stay close to the Lord.
Pray I would make the most of every opportunity.
Pray I could do this well.
(be broken and scared)
(be not healthy)
(be able to receive well)
(I realized it's easier to give)
Pray I hear the Lord well,
and not be rendered ineffective.
Pray I give him glory.
Pray I could rest,
(that one's hard too).

And thanks for asking.
God bless you
richly and deeply
I mean it,
God bless you.

The fog is lifting

The fog is lifting.
I'm finding myself looking for the on-ramp,
to get back into life.

I wanted to write a funny story called:
"The Year The Easter Bunny Got Cancer"
to talk about how my family helped me do,
what I wasn't feeling up to doing.
How I confessed "Everything is half done!"
on Easter Eve,
(the job abandoned
when the biopsy results came back,
positive for breast cancer)
and how my daughter could now say:
"I told you that drink causes cancer!"
which seems funny
[maybe only to me].
I told a few of my kids about the story,
and it's title.
and that I should send it to Tiffany,
so she would understand why her Easter basket sat on our table,
for 6 days past Easter,
and as the fog cleared,
I realized I should send it out, but also,
it was sweet to have her basket on the table with the others.
And my kids said:
"It's OK that the Easter bunny got cancer,
as long as Santa doesn't!"
And we all laughed,
and I felt blessed to have the family I have.

It's been a bit of a challange
to say (to all those whom I'd like to tell)
all that I want to say,
and that I wont probably die from this,
but this is why I'm having surgeries,
and this is why all the doctor appointments,
and this is why the sad, far away, or concerned looks
have invaded my normally jovial countenance.
And I would say, I've been in a cloud,
and I'm facing mortality,
face-to-face,
and God is helping me,
and humor helps me,
and death has no sting,
and life is beautiful
and we will all get there
(to the end of our story)
and some are just lucky enough
to think about the end,
as they walk in the middle.
I woke with the words:
"Teach us to number our days,
that we might gain wisdom"
And I said "Thank you".
Thank you, Lord.
Thank you, cancer,
thank you for helping push pause.
I live in fast-forward,
I think we all do.
We race to the stop light,
when we could have let someone in.
We long for tomorrow
and damn the day we're in.
Wisdom says life is short,
do it today.
Slow down and savor the moments.
I think that was the point of the words I heard.

So where's that on-ramp
(to re-join life)?

I'm tempted to just remember what I used to do,
and just do that.

But I want to take the blessings of this season with me.
So I'm going a little slower.
Noticing more,
praying more,
and trying to be present with my thoughts
and with others.

Because God is beautiful,
and the things He whispers to me are so sweet.
And people are so dearly loved by Him.
And I'd like to help others see that.

If you read this,
I hope it blesses you.
I hope you enjoy your day
(like it was your last day)
I hope you look to the Lord,
and just receive His love,
because it will change you,
heal you,
help you.
God's love does that.

God bless you my friend.

Teach us Lord to number our days,
to realize the brevity of life,
that we might gain wisdom.

Agonizing Love

Every mom who prays for her children,
Every dad who grieves the loss of his son,
Every child who's parent is taken,
has a taste of agonizing love.

Love constrains us,
love thrills us,
it steadies us,
and it confounds us.

But it never fails
it's always patient
forgiving and kind.

"Not the love I've experienced!"
you might exclaim.
But then,
you've never experienced
the agonizing love
of Christ.

I mean,
once you realize how dearly loved you are,
and how much agony Christ endured
for you,
something happens.
You love differently.

The change is incremental.
Not all at once.
I mean there's a massive change
at first,
but then like yeast
it grows,
or it doesn't.

Love can choose not to grow.
We can receive great love
and let the lies of the world,
the enemy
or self-loathing
rob us joy
or stunt our growth.

But when we face Christ,
and the Father of all things,
when we are filled with the Spirit,
we will love like he loves.
We will endure and feel the sorrows and joys of others,
we will be transformed
into one with agonizing love.

Perhaps this seems unpleasant.?
But if you were stuck in a fire,
would you want someone to rescue you?
Would you do the same for another,
living a life of gratitude?

This is our gift.
The love given to us is not
a sunny day kind of love.
It's not for when your hair turned out nice
and you're wearing you favorite jeans.
It's not the kind of love
that catches you doing something nice,
and loves you more.

It's the kind of love
that suffers with us in our sorrow.
Rejoices with us in our victories,
loves us
at our most unlovable moments (and seasons).

This is the love we receive.
This is the love that kept Christ on the cross,
until it was finished.
This love brought him back from the grave,
and this love
intercedes for my victory.
This is agonizing love,
and it's powerful
and precious
and it's our gift.

Thank you,
thank you,
thank you,
oh God our Father,
Lord of heaven and earth,
Spirit of God.
May we love with this passion,
and may we cherish this love
until you return or call us home.

Impossible Things

I want to do big impossible,
miraculous
things today(!)...
while praying about this,
I realized,
overcoming my gift for procrastination
and ignoring piles of things
I don't want to deal with,
would be a miracle.

A friend who cleans our home bi-weekly
came in last week
(while I was cutting my son's hair)
she asked:
"Is there anything you can't do?!"
My funny (but true) answer was telling:
"Yes. Keep a perfectly clean and organized home!"

So today.

My goal is not to reach perfection.
I'm much too honest ((even in my optimism))
to reach for that goal.
My goal for today,
is God's to-do list (for me).
To see the tasks
that fall out of my reach
(without the help of God).
And then to tackle them,
with His help.

Pray for me.

Looking for love, in all the wrong places

Blessed are the pure in heart,
for they will see God.
but who is pure in heart?
Is that even a thing?
It must be, right God?
It must be...
I confess though,
my love is not pure.

I get mixed up
and love stuff.
Love gets mixed with lust and idolatry.
The love of the world
(deceptively) creates hatred
for the constraints of pure love.
The love of my eyes
blinds me to pure love.

So who will rescue me?
Who will fix, what I
perpetually, break?
Is all hope lost?

We sing:
Purify my heart, Oh God..
David sang:
Test me and try me
(longing for God's unfailing love to fix him).
We are told to love God
"with all our heart, soul, mind and strength"
and this is our best, highest, purest,

wish.

Why wish?
I wish, like I long for a thing
(so beautiful and perfect)
so pure,
it seems impossible.
I only want it.
I only wish.

Like a child who still hopes
a miracle will happen,
and it might come true.
Untainted by repeated failure.
Untrained by the world's lies.
Pure love.

So can I go back?
Can grown-up me
get that pure heart back?
I do (after all) want to see God.
Ironically,
The purest love I have ever known,
was extended to me by God.

He has shown me pure love,
He demonstrates it for me daily,
and if I keep my focus on Him,
His love changes me.

Bit by bit.

At times it feels like one step forward
and two steps back,
but God is patient with me,
and each day, He brings me farther
along the path to pure love.

Think about that,
daily, I'm closer,
daily I'm better.
I wont reach 100 percent pure,
on earth,
but one day,
He will finish what He started,
and until then,
I give Him my heart continually,
and ask that He fix it.
I surrender my longings,
and ask that He only give me
what's best.
I look to Him,
(the lover of my soul)
and He purifies my heart.
As I go about my life
I keep my best love for Him,
and He teaches me
(in His patiently persistent manner)
to love with a pure heart.

A little discomfort is not a bad thing

As often as we eat

out of boredom,

and are rarely hungry.

As often as we speak

without giving pause,

and fail to truly listen.

As often as we give-in

to cravings of the flesh,

(never hungering and thirsting

for righteousness).

We have lost something.

In our haste,

we rob ourselves

of rare treasure.

Waiting on the Lord

brings great gain.

Seeking God with all our

heart, soul, mind and strength,

takes some effort

some discomfort.

Have we,

in this time of

instant everything,

lost the art of

longing?

Given up our right

to indescribable joy?

Oh God, forgive us.

Us, because we all fall pray

to this deception.

Is there no good thing worth waiting for?

No treasure worth spending yourself to gain?

No good, you would sacrifice everything for?

Yes.

Yes, there is.

Father forgive us.

Father forgive me.

Father, transform us,

in spite of ourselves,

for your Name's sake and glory

and for our greatest good. 

Amen