A Very Special Gift

Do you have one of those people in your life that no matter how many days go by since you have last talked or seen each other, you remain kindred spirits?

I do. And today was one of my favorite days.

I met this dear friend for our annual Christmas get together. We eat, drink coffee, exchange gifts and yada yada yada...you know gab about kids, life, family. But most importantly, we encourage each other. Sometimes it involves tears, like today, and always it involves laughter.

Sometimes we head to our favorite costume jewelry store after eating our soup and salads. Sometimes we have our favorite Trim Healthy Mama dessert brought from home to share over coffee. Today over lunch, we shared our struggles, cried over burdens. Being real with each other is the most important thing. And being a great listener, which I cherish in this dear friend. She always knows what to say, and when to say it. The talk always goes back to the Gospel and our need to grow in Christ, be bright lights and keep Him central in our lives.

After having eaten lunch, we exchanged gifts. As I opened my bag I knew there was something special inside. One of those gifts that speaks of love and heartfelt thoughtfulness. Something that can be a constant reminder to be of what I need to be doing each and every day.

Choose joy.

Believe.

Two things that I find daunting, yet required by my Lord. Two things I want to do more than anything else. Life spits out lemons so often. It is a choice in how to respond.

We both spoke of how this journey is fleeting and now both of us, heading into midlife, have much to contemplate.

What and how are we believing.

Are we choosing joy even when the burdens seem to weigh us down? Weigh us down like drowning. Sorrows multiply. Bad things happen. YES, We can choose joy!

So I will wear these reminders around my neck as a beautiful weight. One that will keep my eyes on the prize of the upward call in Christ Jesus.

After tears were shed and grace was multiplied we grabbed a beautiful fattening cupcake from a gourmet shop and headed to coffee. We both found it ironic that we were armed with the new THM cookbook in one hand, a gift to her, and a delectable cupcake in the other. But, hey, that's what friends do!

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.

Calling All Adoptive Parents....

There is a new resource that we have been told about. We have purchased it and now are reading through it together.

In the next few days and weeks, I will be "journaling" here, about this book. "Mr. Cartwright" and I are just in the first chapter, and had to stop for our eyes were overflowing with tears.

*Tears of identification
*Tears of joy...someone really understands and has wrote these thoughts down to help others.
*Tears of hurt.
*Tears of wonder of all that God has done.

Our family has been on this journey for many years, almost 18. We are coming out the other side (although it seems we are in a hexagon at times...which side are we coming out?) with our oldest crew, but our littlest, who is now 9, is really struggling. Each day holds pain for her and unknown for me. As I strive to take each, "out of the box" quality and action she exhibits, I give them to the Lord, but I also, see my actions in turn being changed and molded.

So, today, while reading this brought us to our knees....

"God reminds us that __________ is a Puebla by sovereign appointment."

Yes, God's hand placed them each here at a specific time with specific needs that we are to guide them through.

So, no matter who thinks what, we know we're doing what is best for ours

Missing Her, But So Thankful For Her Legacy

Today marks four years since Mom went home to be with the Lord. I miss her just as much as the day Jesus took her home.




There may be less days with tears, but the days that there are tears, they can fill a 10 gallon pail. And as I contemplate the home she resides in (and will for eternity) I think back on yesterday. I really mean yesterday.

Easter. Resurrection Day. The Empty Tomb. The Stone Rolled Away.

This is where my hope lies. I will see my mom again.

Until then, I have so many amazing memories and she left one gigantic legacy that is alive in all of her family.

There are songs. There are faces. There are habits. One particular song she often sang to my children when they were younger was:

"Alive, Alive, Alive forevermore. My Jesus is Alive, Alive Forevermore. Alive, Alive, Alive forevermore. My Jesus is Alive. Sing Hallelujah. Sing Hallelujah. My Jesus is Alive."

Oh, how this speaks volumes now.

This year I decided to ask my children what was one of their favorite memories of their Gran.

"Hoss" and "Little Joe" are continuing to deal with it in their own way. This is a difficult day for them too.

"Marie" had lots to say: "I remember her reading to me and playing war. I loved the days she would take me out by herself for lunch and a surprise gift. I really loved her laugh mom. (Everyone loved mom's laugh) When we spent the night she would always have a special breakfast for us. I remember making good fun of her old granny glasses that sat on her nose. She would always make a silly face too. She always told me how much she loved me and how special I was."

"Inger" remembers, "Popsicles, Ice Cream, and the cookies, Miss Patty brings at Christmas." (Since my littlest has very few memories, I am so thankful for "Aunt Patty", Mom's best friend, who keeps some memories alive. Raspberry Meringue Kisses my mom made every year at Christmas for as long as I can remember.)

Someone recently said, "When a believer dies, they are not going from the land of the living to the dead. They are going from the land of the dead to the land of the living."

I can't wait to join her!

Leaning Pretty Hard

Leaning, leaning, safe and secure from all alarms;
Leaning, leaning, leaning on the everlasting arms.

Right now, I'm not even sure I can stand up straight. I'm hunchback and hurting. I'm grasping at His arms. I think about the photo and poem, Footprints. I am sure there is only one set, but they seem stationary.

If you notice though, these are all feelings. I acknowledge feelings aren't truth and I yearn for truth. For I know it will set me free from fear and anxiety.

Every morning, I hit my knees and cry. I have my trusty Kleenex. My hands are outstretched towards heaven. I'm pleading for the faith to believe. I know my Lord hears me. I beg for the Holy Spirit to move. I am confident when I rise that He is orchestrating the plans He knows are best for me. 

I find rest in this. I crave joy. I rearrange my thoughts. I fight. 

Against my enemy, satan.
Against my flesh.
Against my thoughts.
Against my fears.

David, the Psalmist, knew all of this too. So many of the Psalms repeat this message over and over again. And he ALWAYS goes back to remembering Truth.

My God is able. 

As you read this my prayer is that whatever you are going through, you will find this place. This place of courage to remember. To not get sucked into your feelings. This will lead you only to depression and sinking sand.

Psalm 16

Preserve me, O God, for in you I take refuge.

 

I say to the Lord, “You are my Lord;

    I have no good apart from you.”

As for the saints in the land, they are the excellent ones,

    in whom is all my delight.

The sorrows of those who run after another god shall multiply;

    their drink offerings of blood I will not pour out

    or take their names on my lips.

The Lord is my chosen portion and my cup;

    you hold my lot.

 

The lines have fallen for me in pleasant places;

    indeed, I have a beautiful inheritance.

I bless the Lord who gives me counsel;

    in the night also my heart instructs me.

 

I have set the Lord always before me;

    because he is at my right hand, I shall not be shaken.

Therefore my heart is glad, and my whole being rejoices;

    my flesh also dwells secure.

 

For you will not abandon my soul to Sheol,

    or let your holy one see corruption.

You make known to me the path of life;

    in your presence there is fullness of joy;

    at your right hand are pleasures forevermore.

The Bottle's Full....Again.

Swollen Eyes. Red Face. Migraine. All these are signs of the deep valley in my life.
The tears have flowed freely today. I ask the many already asked questions to the Lord.

"Why can't things be normal...and "Hoss" be home and happy?"
"What happened and why, why, why?"
"Why?"
"What could I have done different?"

I come out of the cave...and the phone rings.

Agape is letting us know "Hoss" has hurt his eye. E.R. visit. No bleeding just an eyeball bruise and pain.
Pain that a mommy should be there to comfort. Pain that I know my Heavenly Father can use to attend "Hoss'" heart.

More tears. And prayers.

Don't worry, friends. I will come around. I trust the Almighty. I know He is working.

Time to self-talk.

My bottle's full again.

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

A Little Ranting

Does anyone out there know what it is like to have a child in rebellion? (O.K. I know you're out there, but I wish you were here at the Ponderosa.)

Out of the home? Spouting anger to you that you even adopted him in the first place.

This journey has been very lonely. (O.K. I know my eyes are completely inverted and selfish at this point.)

But, nonetheless, lonely. The ache is so deep. The fight is waning.

So I go to my Father. I cry (scream), Why? I ask (plead) for Him to move now. I cry so hard I can't breathe. My eyes are swollen. My heart is in pieces. My lover holds me. I just want to be alone.

Today, in worship, I am reminded how much my Father loves me. I am reminded He gave His only unique Son to save a wretch like me. (and "Hoss") I was His enemy. He made me His child.

He is the Healer of the Soul. He replaces our sin with His Son's righteousness.

Thank you, Father.

And I cry some more.

He Hears

"Our tears are liquid prayers."- Charles Spurgeon

My God knows my thoughts before I think them.

So when the words won't come and the tears do, He hears.

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.

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.

Tears

There are many tears this week. I think to myself,"When will the tears stop?" They seem so close to the edge that most times I don't have to think much more than a second about him and the saltiness appears on my cheeks. Please pray for him too. Life seems so empty many days.

Lord, please fill it with you and help me to attempt to serve others. I know this is the cure. Thanks to a friend who has helped me by giving me these thoughts to think on:

Thank God you were able to get him in a good Godly place.
Thank God that he is getting the help that he needs.
Thank God that he never committed suicide.
Thank God he never really harmed himself or anyone else physically.
Thank God he has admitted some things, even if it has only been to others.
Thank God you'll get to see him in a few more weeks.
Thank God he is not getting in trouble while away.
Focus on the positive things of him being where he is.

I pray one day the tears will flow with rejoicing over this one coming to the Savior.