Hard Life Lessons on Sin, Death and Grace Gifts

This last week was a tough one for my littlest. My nature lover. The friend of all animals. It was sanctifying for me too.

It started out as a regular ole' school week. Math lessons streeeeetttcccched out for longer than necessary. Sassy talk. Discipline. Hugs. Laughter.

Until Mr. Cartwright called home. He found a possum. A baby possum. He had thought of our little one who loves to nurture on lost and needy animals. I asked him, "Please not this time....I don't think I can do a possum." Well, little Inger overheard the conversation and asked permission to call her daddy about this issue. He was long gone from the sight he had found it, but PROMISED that the next time he found one, he would bring it home. Now mind you, HE HAD NEVER FOUND A POSSUM. EVER.

The very next day he came across another little guy. And he kept his promise. So Prince came into our lives. I NEVER would have EVER said I would have a possum in my home, yet I knew this would be an important experience in my little one's life. We read and learned tons about possums. Did you know they do not suck like other baby animals? They are marsupials who are in the momma's pouch for 90 days. We think our little guy was about 5 months old. He still needed milk although he lapped from a water bowl. So we gave him a bottle that he chewed on and we'd squeeze a few extra drops into his mouth.

I caved after the first night of him sleeping in a box in the garage. Inger begged for him to be in the zippered cat carrier on her bed at night. This worked well. She was such a good momma! She carried him in her apron or robe pocket. She played with him as he seemed to be getting stronger and stronger. She would walk around with him on her shoulder and he'd just sit there looking around.

In the evening of the sixth night we'd had him, he stopped eating and grew weaker and weaker! We tucked him in for the night, but I knew he wasn't going to make it. Little Prince died that night.

The next morning, my hubby and I were up early talking and getting ready to read Scripture, when a little person came out of her room wondering what happened. She snuggled up on me as I told her Prince had died. She started sobbing! Crying harder than ever!

I took her onto my bed and let her cry, talking to her about how God loves his creation. How He cares for the birds of the air and gives all those flowers she loves so much their beautiful clothes. I reminded her that Jesus knew little Prince was sick and allowed her to be part of his life. I, then, turned to the subject at hand. This subject being a little harder to discuss with her as she struggles through her own life, blinded to her sin as of yet. Not thinking she needs a Savior up to this point. But, this mommy's heart, knowing this was another opportunity to help her see the effects of sin on the world. Sin that separates us from a holy God. Sin that demands judgment. The Gospel became central again. I prayed that it hit close to home for my little lamb.

I turned to my own thoughts. I realized it just happened to be the anniversary of my dear mother's home going 5 years prior. I allowed myself to shed tears that were bottled up for the day. I tend to "keep busy" so that I don't have to face my own sadness at times, but my Heavenly Father knew I needed to grieve as well. This was a grace gift to start my day.

I laid there as we cried together. Both hurting. One of us knowing grace; the other needing it.

Only Her!

The past couple of days I have thought about my mom quite a bit.

I miss her so much. There are days when I can hear her voice still. Days when I am singing that I hear her song ring out. Days I look in the mirror and she is looking back at me. (The older I get, the more this happens.)

I was and still am blessed to have had a mom who cared for me in the way she did. She had a way of getting things done. No obstacle in her way. (The Walmart managers can attest to this)

She was full of life.

But, lately, I have been mulling over her death. I know. Not somewhere I should be hanging out at too long. And yet, there was such beauty and peace through the last couple of weeks in her life. I was so thankful to have been there to care for her. I can still smell her hair. Many times a day I would comb it as it would help her to relax. There are times I can't believe she is gone. This week has been just one of those times. Wishing I could pick up the phone and tell her that I'm quitting this thing called "mommyhood".

Tell her that I can't do this another day.
Tell her that I am so frustrated at teaching my children.
Tell her that I just want my boy home.
Tell her that I love her.

Then I would hear her say, "You can do it." I would hear her laugh that infectious laugh and tell me what a great   job I am doing. Only she can say it the way she did.

The most beautiful thing about her death was the presence of the Lord during those days. He was there with us. He gave us the grace to face death...of her body. But we have complete assurance that she is alive and well. Christ beat death. He gives us life.

I mull on this some more.

Do You Hear It?

If you listen real closely you can hear...

the plates crashing on the walls.

the wailing sobs of a woman in deep agony.

the frustrated pleas of a soul being crushed.

the constant, "WHY, Lord?"

AND YET, you can also hear...

complete surrender to the Lord spoken with deep prayers.

many utterances to Jesus confessing anxieties and distrust.

"Thank you, Master, for these afflictions."

My mind has been so full of confusing thoughts throughout the last year. And many days I have done or said all of the above.

So a dear friend of mine (you know who you are, sister) has helped me to weed through my desperately deceitful heart and ask the hard questions...

"Am I angry at God?"

"Am I shying away from God's Word because I really deep down inside don't want to commune with the God who allowed these things in my life?"

I am so thankful to the Lord for His precious promises that will never fail. I realize my Savior knows every pain and hurt in my heart, but I am also, fully aware, that I must completely give all my hurt to the Lord and not respond with fear or sin. God's Word never fades away. Blessed be His name.

Ponderings

As I sat down to post today, my mind came to a conversation I had had with my precious Mother before the Lord took her home. I had asked her to contribute a guest post on her thoughts and life as she fought cancer.

She never was able to. Things happened so quickly. She was well and fighting one day, and sick and dying the next.

IF she had been able to write something, I believe she would have shared something similar to these thoughts:

"As I fight this cancer, I have a peace and joy that only Christ can give. He has taught me so much about dependency on Him. For two years I have been fighting lung cancer, and through it all have used every opportunity I can get to share Christ with those around me. Whatever you are going through in life, no matter how big or small, Christ is the answer for strength and direction. He is the One who allowed this sickness in my life and I want to use it for His glory."

Mom is now rejoicing in heaven with my Heavenly Father. She is now able to really "see" what she only understood from afar.

I wish you could have known my mom. She was a woman of deep faith. Her favorite quote was from Corrie Ten Boom.

"There is no pit so deep, that God is not deeper still."

I have felt so many times in such a deep pit. I remind myself: "My Father's love is wider, longer, higher and deeper than anything I will go through. He will sustain me."

So I ask my Heavenly Father to send my dear Mother a message: I miss and love her.

God is Very Near

...and yet there are so many times, He seems so very far.

The last year has been such a lonely road and yet, one that I have learned so much from my Heavenly Father.

So many days I cry out to Him wondering if He is tired of hearing the same prayer and feeling the same tears that seem to never dry up. The tears come mostly when I am listening for Him in His Word and speaking to Him in the early hours. The tears just keep coming. I know the bottle must be almost filled up by now.

Is this all part of healing?

Healing for this wounded heart seems like forever. But I know my Jesus holds me close and will not let me go.

My best friend, lover and provider reminds me of this as he holds me and lets me cry once again.

The Linden Tree

The Puebla Ponderosa enjoys reading immensely. I usually read an out-loud read during lunch time. I randomly picked the most current book off of my library shelf. I noticed it was labeled "historical fiction". Looked good. Sounded interesting. I think the Lord had other plans in using this book.

The Linden Tree takes place in Iowa in 1948. Katy Sue's mother has died from meningitis. She is buried underneath a linden tree on the family's 80 acre farm. This story is the journey that takes place afterwards as she works through this hole in her heart. I had no idea how this gentle story would be used in our lives.

As I read through the first chapter, my heart felt like it was in my throat. At once I could not see the words. Everything was a blur and the water poured forth from my eyes. I closed the book intending to explain to my children that we couldn't read this right now. But, there was a soft and gentle prodding in my soul that led me to believe otherwise.

We were able to finish the first chapter. I looked up at my precious lambs and said, "This book will be good for us. Mommy needs to still work through her grief, and you need to know it is o.k. to cry."

My littlest boy has a hard time talking through things and has not cried over the death of his ,Gran.

I thought, "hearing Katy Sue work through her grief will probably we helpful to 'Little Joe'".

And helpful to me. You see, she is a lot like me. She stays busy and tries not to think about the pain of losing her mom. For when she lets the thoughts that are pursuing her catch up, she loses her breath. This is where I find myself too often.

But I know this thing of grief is a process.

I have been able to cry, laugh and thankfully keep reading The Linden Tree.

I have a friend that she does not have, though. His name is Jesus, the ultimate healer.

Grief

I don't want to go there. IF I allow myself to do this, I feel like I might drown. So I stay busy, doing, doing, doing.

But then I opened my inbox and found this. I know I must, to heal. I must enter this valley. God will help me to breath and not die. He will give me the grace for the sorrow. He will bring the peace.

This I know.

Do My Tears Matter...

...to my Heavenly Father?

Lately, all I can do is cry when I commune with my Master. I feel at a loss for words and full of tears. There have been many things torn from me in the past year, and I am coming to understand that my Jesus wants me to come to Him and be dependant on Him and nothing else.

So, I am reminded that

~ My soul finds rest in God alone; my salvation comes from him. He alone is my rock and my salvation; he is my fortress, I will never be shaken. (Psalm 62:1-2)

~ The Lord is near to all who call on him, to all who call on him in truth. He fulfills the desires of those who fear him; he hears their cry and saves them. (Psalm 145: 18-19)

~ The name of the Lord is a strong tower; the righteous run into it and are safe. (Proverbs 18:10)

~ Surely God is my salvation; I will trust and not be afraid. The Lord, the Lord, is my strength and my song; he has become my salvation. With joy you will draw water from the wells of salvation. (Isaiah 12:2)

~ Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light. (Matthew 11: 28-31)

~ He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away. (Revelations 21:4)

~ You have kept count of my tossings;put my tears in your bottle.
Are they not in your book? Psalm 56:8

~ Tears may flow in the night, but joy comes in the morning. Psalm 30:5

My Lord does care; He sees each tear that falls; He knows my thoughts, even before I think them; He knows my words without saying them.

I know He will restore my joy.....in time.

Empty Arms

This weekend "Mr. Cartwright" and I saw "Hoss". Although he finds himself far from home, our hearts have been knit closer together.

Many words of love, encouragement, repentance and healing were spoken.

"Hoss" is making great strides. He has an increasing desire to read God's Word and make positive changes in his life, even while living at Agape.

Our visit exceeded all of our expectations, and, in turn, made for a very tough road home.

We miss our oldest little man. Our hearts break and hurt so bad at times, we feel all breath taken from our souls.

BUT, we serve a God whom we trust and love.
The Bread of Life gives us nourishment when we feel famished.
Our Good Shepherd has broken our son's leg so that he will not wander again.
He is also, our Healer, both of body, mind and spirit.

Please continue to pray for "Hoss":
~ to daily surrender his wants and desires to the Lord.
~ to trust in God each day for the strength to make right choices.
~ to trust his parents as we decide when the time is right for him to join the
Puebla Ponderosa again.
~ to stay on the narrow road that leads to life.
~ learn to be a man in a world that cries out against Godly male leadership.

Mother's Day

This Mother's Day I find so very difficult. The two most difficult trials I have yet faced can affect this day, if I let them get the best of me.

I was asked by leadership at church to speak and give a brief testimony of being a daughter and a mother.

The Lord brought this to my heart:

"Most of you know that my mom passed away 2 weeks ago, on April 21st. This mother’s day holds much sadness for me, but also much joy. My mother was a woman who loved God and others with all her heart. She had a passion to share Christ with others even up to the very night Christ took her home. Eight hours before her death, she was sharing Christ with a co-worker who called. Though she really struggled to breathe in the end and had a lot of medication in her, she was still determined to let anyone know who called or came by that they, too, would die one day and could be assured that they could also go to heaven if they had a relationship with her Savior. I was raised by this precious woman (and my dad, too) who took me to a nursing home every week when I was young. I remember combing the ladies’ hair and putting nail polish on their fingers as mom shared the best news she could, salvation through Jesus. Mom held 5 Day Clubs each summer when I was younger and ministered to all the moms whose children attended. My mom had fears, many that stemmed from childhood and not being raised in a Godly home. She would have admitted she was a pessimist at heart, but during the last few weeks of her life, she conquered all. She never showed any fear during the time of her life where she had every “right” to be fearful. She praised Jesus with her heart and even her lips during the 2 ½ weeks I was there taking care of her. She thanked Jesus every day, all day for bringing her into the very last valley she would face. She never complained. Christ was glorified.

Mother’s Day is about celebrating my mother and also, celebrating the mother I have become, only because of Jesus. And, yet, again, this brings me back to my mom. I wanted nothing more than to be the mom she was. At first, I thought this was never to be. God closed my womb, but, in turn, opened my heart. And this again was in large part due to the example of my precious mom. She and my dad took in the orphans for many years as I was growing up…mostly teenagers. They became foster parents only 2 years after they became believers. The Lord showed me pure and undefiled religion through her actions.

And now, I find myself mom to 4 precious children who were birthed in my heart. This act of love was acted out for me and I am forever grateful. Being a mom brings such joy, but also such pangs of grief. There are joys of hearing, “I love you, Mommy.” There are days of nothing but dirty clothes, dirty dishes, dirty floors and even dirty feet. But so much blessedness comes from being there to whisper prayers of healing and hurt, to utter forgiveness and teach the truths of God’s Word. It is a grueling task that brings emotional, physical, mental and even spiritual exhaustion. But this gift of motherhood is a gift I am eternally blessed to own.

In closing, I would like to thank you for praying for our family in the last month, as well as the last year. Such trial has come our way, but joy has definitely come too. We have grieved with the loss of our son from our home and the physical loss of my mom from our lives. Both of these losses have refined me and are what our Lord is using to make me a better mom…one that resembles my Savior more. God remains so faithful. "Hoss" is doing so well. He is learning to place his trust in Christ. He was able to talk to mom and write to her, even encouraging her with some Scriptures. She went to be with Jesus with the knowledge that Christ has begun a miracle in his life that she was on her knees daily petitioning the Father for.

Tears flow daily for all these things. Joy erupts as well. Praise be to our Heavenly Father."

The Soul Lives Forever

When our oldest son was just one years old, we started the adoption process again.



The attorney had matched us with a girl who was due at the end of May. She lived across the bay from where we lived. One Friday, we met her for lunch to introduce ourselves and find out a little bit about her. She was a young girl; the typical pregnant teen. Her boyfriend was in and out of jail, abusive and controlling.



The next day we received a phone call that she had gone into early labor and we were to meet her at the hospital. This was the beginning of May. This was a position I had never found myself in before. God had taken the ability to have children away from me, by His design and sovereignty. This I questioned for many years, but chose to trust. Here I found myself in a place called labor and delivery. We were given bands to wear giving us privilege to the little one when he was born. Lots of emotions were happening inside me.



A few hours later we were told the doctors were attempting to stop the labor, as the precious one inside her needed as long as possible to develop. Saddened, we went home that night. Lots of questions in our minds. When would are arms be filled with this bundle?



The next morning we went up to see her. She was well, but there were quite a bit of family members in her room. Some from the boy who didn't deserve to see this gift! We left a little taken back by this momma's response to us that day. She seemed distant, removed. We again, headed home with prayers falling out of our hearts and out of our mouths.



The following day as we were headed up the elevator to see her, my wise man said, "You know, she is probably going to change her mind." There. The dreaded words were said. The words we both knew were possible. He then reminded me, "If she is going to try to raise this precious boy, we must minister to her soul. Her soul needs Jesus more than we need this baby." Truth. My love spoke truth that day.



We did share Christ with her and then left the room never to hear from her or see her again.



The emotions were strong, but I never shed one tear. My focus was where it needed to be.



Her soul...



Little did we know that the next October we were united with our next son, "Little Joe". He was five months old...and His birthday? May 1st.



As we were sharing Christ with a poor troubled soul, who was to become a Mommy soon, the gift of our heavenly Father was being born. We just didn't know it yet.



I trust You, Lord.

Five Little Words

I miss him so much!