Branches and Trees

Musings on Marriage

Category: Stories and Songs (Page 1 of 8)

Ronald McDonald House

November 23, 2023 / / 2 Comments

McDonald’s has never been my place of choice for breakfast, lunch or dinner.  But Ronald McDonald’s House – now that’s a completely different story.  I checked into Spokane, Washington’s RMD house a few weeks ago because my daughter Amanda, delivered her daughter, Jubal, six weeks earlier than planned.  I flew from Michigan to help Michael and Amanda care for their son Onyx as they made many trips to and from the NICU at Sacred Heart Hospital and as Michael drove to work in Walla Walla staying several days at a time.

From the moment I stepped in the door at RMD, the staff was kind, the rooms and kitchen areas were pristine, and I felt completely valued and cared for.  At dinner time a huge meal was brought into the kitchen area – sausage jambalaya and rice – and was free for whoever was hungry.  The next morning there was a pan filled with pounds of crispy bacon just out of the oven, miniature quiches, a luscious apple coffee cake and cinnamon rolls.  As I was filling my plate with a bountiful hot breakfast, I asked the people who had brought such a feast who they were and why they were doing this.  They said they were from the local TV station, wanting to give to those who were having a difficult time with loved ones in the nearby hospitals. All the cooks were filled with joy as they brought more and more food out of the ovens, and our joy was immense as well.

Not all meals were furnished, but it was a delight when they were.  One Saturday night four young women from a local Gonzaga Sorority brought us spaghetti and meat balls for supper.  Michael asked them why they would spend their Saturday buying, preparing and delivering a meal to strangers whom they had never met.  They replied that as a Sorority they decided to do some service projects and chose the RMD House.

I talked to some other parents who had been there much longer than we.  One mother told us she was celebrating her 80th day with twin girls in NICU, and yet she spoke of her time here as being such a blessing.  One of the twins was born at 1 lb. 5 oz., the other 2 lbs. 10 oz.   I had no idea a child born that small could even survive.  I heard story after story of setbacks, then small victories, yet each day putting one foot in front of another, parents continuing to care for their children.  One mother has been pumping her breasts for milk for almost 3 months, each morning bringing in more bottles…  Such stories of a mother’s love are simply amazing. 

One night there was a gentleman from the community who came to give free chair massages to anyone who wanted one.  Apparently, he comes every Sunday evening simply to bless others. It was lovely.

Another day Isaac, the Comfort Dog came with his owner so we could pet him and receive comfort from this beautiful gentle animal.

Onyx and I spent hours on the playground and in the playrooms scattered throughout the RMD House.  Being a 2-year-old boy, he was naturally full of energy, but we found lots of interesting places for it to be released. 

After two weeks at the RMD House it was time to go home.  I flew East and little Jubal and her family drove South as we treasured all these beautiful memories in our hearts.  Amazingly, there was no charge for our 2-week stay!   The RMD House made a difficult time much easier to enjoy. 

Thank you to the many volunteers throughout the nation who care for the people who live temporarily in Ronald McDonald Homes – to me you are heroes!

Girl, Tell Your Story

October 11, 2022 / / 0 Comments

Dear Daughters,

Last week I received a book in the mail written by an author living in Walla Walla, Washington (such a delightful name for a city).  Brooke Thonney has a story which at different times made me laugh, cry and sometimes shudder.  Growing up near Los Angeles, Brooke was raised in a family of domestic abuse, addiction, adultery and divorce.  Before she was old enough to know what drugs and alcohol were, she knew their smell and effects on her mom and dad.  When she was three her parents divorced, throwing her life into further chaos, dysfunction and confusion. 

As in many stories of children coming from such homes, they in turn grow up living the same behavior patterns as their parents before them.  When Brooke was in high school, she came home one day to see her mom sitting on the curb in handcuffs and later taken to jail.  She was sent to live with her dad and his girlfriend, all three of them soon evicted from their home.  Brooke started living the same lifestyle she had seen in her family of origin and by 19 she was a single mom and a college dropout.

But the story doesn’t get worse from there, it gets better.  Brooke has a praying grandmother, who had been sexually abused by her own father for years, her voice silenced for a time because of threats and lies from him.  Virginia, her grandmother, led Brooke to Christ and told her that she had determined not to let her dad destroy the rest of her life, and that Brooke had the same choice going forward.

For years Brooke had been silenced by her parents, her friends, her fiancée, her Youth Pastor, and many others who figured her background was too broken to be transformed into anything good. The enemy constantly fed her lies as well.  Because of all the betrayal and slander flung her way, she began to distrust people as well as God Himself.  In her mind the lies and questions of doubts were relentless,

Can God really be trusted?

Did He really speak those words of love and affirmation….to me?

Does He even care about me and all my problems?

Why would God let people do such hurtful things to me?

I am Irredeemable. 

I am worthless. 

I am rejected. 

I am silenced.

 Then Brooke started listening to God’s voice instead of voices from her past. 

Where Brooke saw trash, God saw treasure.

Where Brooke saw junk, God saw jewels.

Where Brooke saw brokenness, God saw freedom from bondage.

When she decided to listen to God’s promises of truth, her life started changing:

God uses the brokenness of our lives to prepare us for what He has called us to do

 and to reveal our destiny.

We were designed and created to use our voices in a dark world

 to bring life to everything and everyone around us.

Because of her past abuse, Brooke was hyper-vigilant in protecting her daughters from the same abuse she had received as a child.  Then one night she had a vision…

I saw myself standing in a dark, hostile wilderness.  In one hand I was gripping a machete and with the other I was holding back Ellie and my second daughter Claire to protect them from whatever lay ahead.  I saw myself slashing right and left with the machete, lashing out at everything around me. I couldn’t see anything in front of me because of the darkness, and I was desperate to protect my kids from whatever was out there.  I was breathing hard, drenched by sweat and blinded by rain and deep darkness.  I was inching forward, one step at a time, machete at the ready to protect us. I had no path, no plan, no directions to follow.  I was in survival mode with my girls and would fight anything to keep us safe.  Then the vision ended…

In an amazing transformation, Brooke learned to allow God to be her protector and defender instead of fighting the never-ending battle herself.  It was a process, but she has come to trust her Heavenly Father to care for her most treasured possessions – her husband Andrew and their four daughters.

Brooke’s grandma continued to encourage her to tell her story of ashes being exchanged for beauty.   I’m thankful she is using her voice after being silenced for so many years – not only for her sake, but giving hope to many others who have walked a similar tormented path as she.

Love, Mom

Where Are You?

July 12, 2022 / / 0 Comments

Dear Daughters,

Last week our family went up north to spend a few days together at an Airbnb cottage on a lake.  As we drove there, the road took some turns and zig zags as many country roads do.  Being the directionally impaired woman that I am, I wasn’t really paying attention to anything but giving Dad the directions given to me by Maps, so we could find the cottage. But the next morning when I woke up and looked at the sun, it seemed to be rising in the West. 

As soon as I saw that the sun was not agreeing with my inner compass, I tried reorienting myself to this revelation.  Yet, try as I might, I spent the next 5 days feeling as if the earth was spinning in the opposite direction. 

I’m not sure you have ever felt this way about directions, but there are certain places where my feelings about which direction I am facing is 180 degrees off from reality. 

I realize some people are always 100% accurate and yet there are others who think whichever direction they are facing is north to them.  (I actually had a friend like that on a short road trip, so I volunteered to drive.)

The first recorded question God ever asked was spoken to Adam and Eve,

“Where are you?”

 The question was asked in the garden, and sometime after the first humans were created.  Apparently, every evening, God would talk and walk with Adam and Eve, enjoying the beautiful garden and all the animals and other fascinating creatures inhabiting the garden. 

But one day satan, disguised as a beautiful snake, tempted Eve to think God was holding out on them because there was one tree in the garden of thousands that God said was off-limits for them.  Yes, even though there were more than enough other trees from which to eat, satan questioned the goodness of God.  The couple had never been ashamed of being naked with each other but now for the first time they hid because they felt shameful fear. Shame causes us to hide – behind trees or any other thing we can find in the world. 

It is curious to me what God did not say. He did not come in roaring mad because they disobeyed Him. He didn’t call them idiots for what they did. It was into this situation that God simply asked the question

“Where are you?”

God was not asking for their latitude and longitude coordinates, he was not asking behind which tree they were hiding – physical location was not His point.  He wanted to know why they were hiding from Him.  In the past, they had always been eager to visit with Him.  God wanted to know where they were in relation to Him. 

God created us because He desires to bring us joy, the fullness of joy.  But when we hide from Him, He will not barge in and demand we talk to Him.  He’s too much of a gentleman for that.  He waits until we are ready to talk, to reach out to Him.  More than anything, He desires an honest relationship with us, because He knows we will never have life abundant without Him. 

“Though the mountains be shaken

And the hills be removed,

Yet my unfailing love for you will not be shaken,

Nor my covenant of peace be removed,”

says the Lord who has compassion on you.

Isaiah 54:10

Ann Voskamp takes the question “Where are you?” in her book, waymaker, and paraphrases it like this:

Where are you, when it was once all about you and Me

And now it’s all about you and that damned lying snake? 

Woe is Me, where have you gone?

I just want you here with Me. 

Knowing that our heavenly Father loves us is enough to bring stability to our identity, attachment to the greatest person in the universe, and peace beyond measure. 

Knowing our location – our GPS coordinates – is important and helpful, especially when trying to find an Airbnb, but there’s something more important.  And that is where are you in relation to your Creator, the lover of your soul.

“Where are you?”

 is a good question Jesus asks of us every day, and unless we keep locating our soul near Him, we’ll keep losing our way.

Love, Mom

When Angels Fight

June 20, 2022 / / 2 Comments

Dear Daughters,

I was browsing through our local bookstore awhile back and came upon a new book by a Grand Rapids author.  Being the book lover that I am, I bought it and started on it that night. 

When Angels Fight is an autobiography about a woman born and raised in Grand Rapids, Michigan, about 7 miles from our house, Leslie F. King.  When she was 15 years old, after living a life of abuse as a child, she was befriended by a man – C – who saw her walking outside and crying.  He pulled up in his car and took her to dinner, bought her clothes and listened to the sad story of her home life.  He told her he loved her and she should be treated much better than she had been.  He said she was beautiful, and brought her around to his other friends, introducing her as his girlfriend.  Slowly, she gave him her trust as he continued to treat her like a queen – until one night he didn’t. 

She woke up after being drugged, as another man was using her body any way he liked.  From that night on Leslie became the property of C and he became her pimp.  At only 15 years old she was trapped into a life of sex trafficking.

The Stroll, conveniently close to the house that I now lived,

was where women were prostituted every day and every night,

where police occasionally patrolled, where men came to pay for sex.

Leslie was the youngest woman in The Stable and quickly learned there were quotas to meet every night, and if the quotas weren’t met there were beatings or some other punishment.  She was given the street name Candy and learned to survive unthinkable and unspeakable horrors.  She took valium and alcohol simply to survive her day-to-day life out on The Stroll (Division Avenue in Grand Rapids).

When her family found out where she was and what she was doing they tried to bring her back home, but she would run – always run.  In and out of jail, back on the street, learning her trade so well that she became proud of how much money she could make in a night – always trying to become the pimp’s favorite and become worthy of his love.  But it never happened, she was no different than the other women in The Stable.  She was used, abused and ultimately just survived as a human being.

Years of life on the streets eventually took their toll.  Increasingly she became hopeless and some nights were simply unbearable.  She had lived her life at animal level for so many years, confusing abuse with love and was beginning to lose hope of going forward.  Sometimes, when she would cry out to God – in anger, distrust and frustration – miraculously there was someone to pick her up when she was laying on the side of a road where a john had disposed of her, leaving her for dead.

Working her trade not only in Grand Rapids, but around the country – at Super Bowls, NCAA Final Four, Kentucky Derby, Rose Bowl and any other national event –  there was always payment for the pimps and their girls, especially where there’s big money and booze.

In all those cities, at all those events, whether I traveled with my pimp or on my own,

I knew one thing: I would never, ever not make money because johns are everywhere.

And then, when Leslie was 35 her life hit bottom, she swallowed enough pills, drank enough alcohol and smoked enough crack with a plan to die, yet again cried out to God.  Through a long string of miraculous events, she called her mom to pick her up, checked herself into rehab and slowly but surely became sober.  God’s angels won over the devil’s. 

That was 22 years ago, and since then Leslie started Sacred Beginnings Women’s Transitional Program, which has served over 3,500 women in several Grand Rapids locations.  Some women come and relapse, others stay clean and go to college, get married, build a career.  Some have died.  The pictures of these women adorn a wall of the home office of Sacred Beginnings downtown Grand Rapids.  One side of the room is filled with pillows of all shapes, colors and designs, available for women to hold onto and cry into when they finally decide they want out of the life.

The hearts of the workers we met a few weeks ago are filled with love, often times tough love, yet they never give up hope.  A few nights a week, Leslie and others walk the same streets where they used to work, letting the girls know someone cares, that there is a safe place for them to land.

When angels fight, God’s angels always win.

Love, Mom

What is a Little Girl Worth?

April 19, 2022 / / 2 Comments

Dear Daughters,

 I have some friends whose daughters, granddaughters, sons or themselves have been molested. I have listened to their stories of horror, have cried groaning tears with them and lamented the lifelong trauma that stays with those dear children even though decades have passed.  Because of this, I recently read the book What is A Girl Worth? by Rachael Denhollander.  Healing may come, the memories may fade, but the acts themselves are never forgotten.

Book Cover
Close up of the cover, many little girl’s silhouettes

Out of 230 rapes reported, only five are convicted and serve time in prison.  Many daughters and sons have suffered sexual abuse but have been dismissed because people didn’t believe them, or they grew weary of the uphill battle of conviction in legal courts.

When Rachael was 15 years old she was abused by the famous Dr. Larry Nassar.  Nassar, who was for 18 years the doctor of the USA women’s gymnastics team and a former osteopathic physician at Michigan State University, used his extensive medical knowledge and skill as a cover-up for his “treatment” of many young gymnasts over the period of decades.

While reading Rachael’s book, I was grieved at how much her mind was in fear wherever she was, always watching how near people were to her, thinking it must have been her fault that Dr. Nassar did what he did.  She suffered nightmares consistently.  Or was she just overacting?  He’s such a congenial nice guy, surely he cares about me, he always gives me compliments, is interested in how I’m doing at school…her thoughts wrestling with each other for years before she finally had a chance to press formal charges against him.  Her thoughts vacillated between his kind words and the reality of shame, plus facing the fact that he was world-renowned and loved by many.  Not until later did she realize that along with all his compliments and gregarious personality, he was grooming her for the assault he would perform, all the while chatting with Rachael and her mother as they were in the examination room together.

Interestingly, Rachael briefly speaks about the normal fight or flight reflex when abuse victims respond to danger, but she speaks of a third possible response which is freeze.

I know what freezing in fear is now. 

It’s when you’re so confused and ashamed and

horrified and scared that you just…shut down, because reality is incomprehensible.

While What is a Girl Worth? chronicles the years of fear and dismissal she received from various people in law enforcement, it’s also the story of two churches.  One church, while dealing with abuse allegations against its own staff members, demanded she write a statement of apology, stripped her husband of his leadership role, and criticized her abuse advocacy role.   As Rachael and her husband, Jacob, searched out a different church at which to worship, they were grateful because the people at their new church were supportive, providing child care, bringing meals and genuinely interested and encouraging Rachael in the uphill legal battle she was fighting. 

We would do well if we would consider the Bible when deciding who to uphold in a case such as the one Rachael fought – the side of the weak or the side of the strong and prestigious?  Throughout Scripture we read of how God upholds the cause of the frail and needy and brings rulers down from their thrones.  We read how He brings Rahab the prostitute and Ruth the foreigner into the genealogy of the Messiah.  Jesus stops to heal an old woman suffering from hemorrhaging, a group of lepers, a hated tax collector and a demon possessed young boy.  He rebukes his disciples for chasing little children away, and instead calls them near and blesses them.  Jesus chooses smelly fishermen to be his closest friends and reprimands the religious leaders of the day.  The theme is consistent through the Bible – God is for the underdog, the abused and the weak. 

One of Rachael’s friends Keith, previously her third-grade Sunday School teacher as well as a prosecuting attorney, told her:

Justice is God’s work, Rachael. 

And I’m going to pray with you that you see it ,

as completely as we can here on earth.

Being a lawyer, Rachael continued to build her case against Dr. Nassar, driving from her home in Kentucky to Michigan numerous times to file a police report in person and returning for many trial dates.  After the IndyStar firstpicked up the story she began receiving calls from many other women who had also been “treated” by Larry.  Following the story of her case with all its twists and turns, I can understand why so few abusers are brought to justice.  Rachael is a strong, brave and determined woman – who at the time of the court cases was also raising three small children under the age of five.  But as she says,

The more you love, the harder you fight.

She not only fought for herself, but for her daughters and the daughters of so many others who had been used by this man.  Rachael started the legalities in 2016 and finally, in 2018, Dr. Nassar was convicted after more than 150 women testified against him.  As one of the last women who testified about Larry in the courtroom stated,

Perhaps you have figured it out by now, little girls don’t stay little forever.

 They grow into strong women that return to destroy your world.

Rachael was the last witness to testify, reading her 40-minute letter to Larry, starting with the words:

How much is a little girl worth? 

How much is a young woman worth?….

Larry was sentenced to a minimum of 40 years in prison and up to 175 – he would never abuse another little girl again.

Rachael ends her book with these words of thanksgiving:

Now to Him who is able to do far more abundantly beyond

All that we ask or imagine, according to the power that works within us,

 to Him be the glory in the church and in Christ

Jesus to all generations forever and ever.  Amen.

Ephesians 3:20-21

Don’t ever forget that God brings down the proud and lifts up the humble.

Love, Mom

I Give Up

January 11, 2022 / / 2 Comments

Dear Daughters,

A few years ago I read Laura Story’s book, When God Doesn’t Fix It.  She wrote about the tragic brain tumor her husband, Martin, had just one year into their marriage, and the subsequent disabilities he struggles with after living more than 10 years post-surgery.  Thousands of prayers had been offered along with months of hospitalizations and rehab, yet still he struggles with a substantial memory deficit and significant vision problems.

It would have been easy for Laura to walk away because this is not what she signed up for, nor was it in their 5-year marriage plan.  But instead of physical healing, God sent people who loved and cared about Laura and Martin, people who helped with all the little and large details of living with a major disability.  The church surrounded them both with compassion and food, practical help in living with a disabled husband, and giving hours of listening ears.

 Just recently I read another book by Laura, I Give Up, following up on her and Martin’s life.  As the title suggests, Laura has learned to surrender everything just as it is, saying to God I give up.  I’ve done all I can, and he’s not getting better.  She did not give up doing good and caring for Martin, but gave up on the encroaching hopelessness, frustration and despair.  When she says the words, I give up, she is basically saying I surrender to Your will for my life.  I surrender all the expectations I had for my life – like a healthy husband… I don’t like it, but I trust You. 

When she surrendered – and it was not an overnight easy surrender but rather an ongoing everyday surrender – she found peace.  In time, she was able to see all the good things God does through infirmities and other unexpected and often unwanted situations.  Laura learned to accept what she could not change, and embrace her new normal.

Rhonda Rietkerk

I don’t know about you, but I like to have things my way.  I like to make my plans and ask God to bless them.  I would love to have a wish list for 2022 and ask God to put His stamp of approval on, wave His magic wand over and perform everything I desire.  But as I’ve learned over the past few decades, that’s not how He works.  He has a plan that is far better than mine because he knows the future, I do not.  But how can I trust that His plan is what’s best for me?  Sometimes His plan doesn’t feel like the best thing, but He knows what I need, I do not.

It’s not easy to surrender your life to someone you can’t see, but it’s possible.  It reminds me of a conversation between Mrs. Beaver and Lucy in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe.  Asking about Aslan, the King of Narnia, Lucy asks “Is he safe?”  “Oh no, he’s not safe,” says Mrs. Beaver.  “But he’s good.”

Rhonda Rietkerk

If we know the character of the person we trust, then we are better able to surrender the details of our life to Him.  And when I look at the promises of Jesus, like:

I will never leave you nor forsake you.

Hebrews 13:5

Lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the world. 

Matthew 28:20

Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. 

Matthew 11:28

But if any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask of God, who gives to all generously without finding fault, and it will be given to him. 

James 1:5

why would I fear? Why would I not surrender my New Year to Jesus?  Because I need help even with surrendering. Thankfully, you and I have the Holy Spirit living within us to give us the strength to make that choice.

When you are exhausted and you don’t know how to calm your mind, surrender to God.  When you are scared when looking at the future and fearful of what may happen to those you love, surrender your people and your future to God. 

Rhonda Rietkerk

I have tried to run my life for enough years now to know that my plans are short-sighted, superficial and self-centered at best.  I have no idea of what others around me need and I am not able to see the big picture or the future. 

Laura has surrendered to an unexpected life of joy, even though her husband can’t drive or hold down a full-time job.  Her music is loved all over the world because she sings and writes about Blessings in the midst of heartache, and living in the joy of Surrender.

God may not change your circumstances to your liking, but you can unclench your tight fists of trying to be in control and surrender with open hands to whatever He has planned for you – which will be abundantly better than anything you could possibly ask or imagine.

Who knows? You may even be surprised by joy when you say I Give Up.

Love, Mom

A Different Thanksgiving

December 2, 2021 / / 4 Comments

Dear Daughters,

Our Thanksgiving celebration this year looked a lot different than usual.  Dad was in the hospital for 2 weeks, so we’ve seen each other here and there in the hospital, as we track Dad’s progress on the family Google Docs, MyChart from Metro Hospital, and the daily Dr. updates.  I’ve learned way more than I ever wanted to know about Covid and the fourth floor at Metro.  Yet I am so thankful for the many people I’ve met, from the ambulance guys (at our house 2 times in 5 days) to the ER staff, all those young whippersnapper doctors and nurses who look like they are fresh out of high school (yet they seem to know what they are talking about.)  The kind nurses, food servers, housekeeping staff, PT and OT therapists, chaplains and countless others who came every day with kind words and caring hearts.  Even the welcome desk people recognize us and ask how we are doing. 

I have always been amazed at the medical community, how they have given their lives to help people who are sick to regain strength, every day seeing what’s wrong with human bodies instead of what’s right with them.  Our bodies are so incredibly complex, fearfully and wonderfully made, and although they are typically well, one little microscopic organism can almost shut a body right down.

As you know, at the beginning of dad’s hospitalization he was so sick we thought we would lose him.  Many people were praying, as were we.  Most of our family were sick with Covid as well so at the beginning we were unable to visit.  Dad was sick, struggling to breathe, scared and secluded.

During that time, on one dark and lonely night at home, I simply surrendered Dad to Jesus saying, Your will be done.  I was too sick to do anything else, only able to say those four words.  But with that I fell asleep and slept peacefully. 

The next morning, there was a turnaround with Dad.  We were able to visit (some driving together in the covid van, the others separately). He became hopeful and fought to live and not die.

I wonder if knowing and truly believing the word Emmanuel – God with Us – makes a difference.  God with us.  A person, not a philosophy or an idea, but a real person – our Creator – is with us always.  When we forget about Emmanuel, fear and anxiety consume, doubt and despair control our thoughts.  But when we pause to believe and dwell on the fact that Our God is with us – even if we don’t feel like He is – then there is peace.

Someone is actually here, Someone unseen who is actually closer than the next unseen breath that fills your lungs,

and that which is unseen can be here, keeping you alive.

Ann Voskamp

I don’t know why Dad was spared and others aren’t; life is unfair and suffering abounds. I have cared for some whose bodies left this weary world and I have cared for those who have lived.  We always need to mourn with those who mourn, weep with those who weep and rejoice with those who rejoice. 

To always remember God is with us, no matter what darkness and pain we suffer, we know we are never alone, and that is the only comfort we have – in life and in death.

Love, Mom

Zig Zag Lives

October 20, 2021 / / 4 Comments

Dear Daughters,

My favorite subject as a sophomore in high school was geometry.  One of the basic axioms I learned was the shortest distance between two points is a straight line, and it is indeed true – in geometry. 

But as you may have noticed in life, we don’t travel from Point A (birth) to Point B(death) in a straight-up-the-mountain line.  There are high points, low points and lots of zig-zags around the in-between points.

Since Dad and I have been married we have moved 12 times within four states -that’s a lot of zigging and zagging geographically.  Some people seem to be able to learn the things God has prepared for them while living in the same house, others of us need to go from place to place, learning the important lessons of life.

I used to think about the Israelites wandering from place to place in the wilderness for 40 years and thought that’s a really inefficient way for God to get His people from here to there.  They could have traveled the distance in 11 days, but it took them 40 years, crisscrossing the desert.  But after reading about all their grumbling, complaining and general discontent with everything going on in their lives- even in the midst of free food and clothes that never wore out – I began to understand I was much like them. 

In my earlier years, I would often complain how things in my life were not going as I would have liked.  Moving here, moving there, meeting friends only to leave and start over again. I was lonely, didn’t have a long-term friend, and my potential was not being fulfilled… or so I thought.

I used to pray, asking God to change my circumstances so I could have a peaceful life.  If I was ever in a place remotely resembling a wilderness (when people wouldn’t do what I thought they should) I would try quickly to change them or conditions around me to suit my preferences.

Thank God that during my wilderness years I have learned that I am the only person I can change.  Finally, my prayer is not to avoid or escape the hard times but to trust Him, knowing that because He loves me He has promised to walk with me through every hardship.

Of course, we have to understand that the number one goal of God as he works in our lives is molding and shaping us to be like Him.  Specifically, He is making us more patient and kind, less boastful and proud, more joyful and long-suffering, less selfish and impatient.  Character, to God, is much more important than money, prestige and fame – which of course is completely upside down to what our culture teaches us.

And what does He use to cause these qualities to appear in us?  Hard times of isolation and stress.  In tough times – instead of running from them – it’s best to press into God, lean on Him and trust Him to lead through and beyond to the other side.

In God’s economy, a zigzag line is the shortest distance between two points. 

 Bill Lawrence

God has each of us in a unique place, at just the right moment of time, and in the exact family that is best for us.  Of course it’s hard, everywhere is hard, but we were not put on this earth simply to have a joy fest. 

The definition of a contented man is he who enjoys the scenery along the detour.

Kim Baar

I was walking outside the other day enjoying the beautiful sunshine when I heard some whirring wings above my head.  I looked up and saw a large flock of starlings.  These birds were doing acrobatics as if they had trained and practiced for months.  They would swoop straight up vertically for a short time then perform a circular pattern and immediately straighten out and fly as if on a racetrack.  Then just as I thought they would continue out of sight they swooped down for a bit and returned toward me as if they were performing an intricately choreographed routine simply for my pleasure. 

How did each one of those tiny birds know when the group was going to do their maneuvers?  I just stood there amazed as I watched them perform for me, then as they finally flew away to give someone else a fascinating show. 

When I consider the remarkable wisdom and creativity of God to gift small, seemingly insignificant birds with the ability to fly such intricate drills, I marvel.  Then I think, if Jesus choreographs their lives and flight patterns so perfectly I can rest assured that He is doing the same for me and you –  zig zags and all.

Love, Mom

Known, Seen, Loved

October 12, 2021 / / 5 Comments

Dear Daughters,

Yesterday I had a terrible, horrible, very bad, no good day.  I woke up feeling physically and emotionally fragile – which happens every now and again.  You know the feeling?  It was cloudy out, actually a pelting rainstorm as I was driving to meet with some friends I hadn’t seen in a while.  Somehow I didn’t get the memo of the change of location, so after driving 20 minutes to the normal meeting spot, a kind man told me the meeting had been moved. He gave me the new address, so I walked out to the car and promptly fell apart, weeping.

Really?  Just because I didn’t hear about the change?  How immature and silly of me, I told myself.  I vacillated between giving up and going home or seeking out the new meeting spot. In the end I put on my big girl panties and ventured out in the storm again, going another 15 minutes in the torrential storm to find the changed location at which I finally arrived.  All the way there I was feeling forgotten, unseen, alone and back to my 13-year-old self when I had been left alone because of a misunderstanding of a meeting place in another state, decades ago.

How quicky one single trigger can bring us back to less than desirable thoughts of what has happened in the past – feeling lost and alone, thinking no one cares, or worse that someone deliberately left us out.

When I finally arrived to the true meeting spot, I was greeted warmly by my friends, but the topic of conversation (in my head) circled around to more times of rejection in the past – some deliberate, others only perceived -so I fought back tears most of the time.  At the end I planned to quickly jet out the door when no one was looking, and my plan worked…almost.

Michelle caught me and asked if I was OK.  Of course, I was not and I wanted to lie saying, Yes, I’m fine, just feeling quiet today.  But, since I’m not a very good liar, when I opened my mouth the tears started streaming again.  I told her what had happened – the miscommunication, the perceived hurt and all the other thoughts swirling in my mind.  Then in her kind, caring voice she said

You know those are lies, right?

Right.  Of course, they’re lies.  Sheesh, I know about lies from the enemy, voices from my past, I have been teaching it to others for years.  So how did I get caught in this downward spiral of self-disdain, loathing and hopelessness? 

It’s embarrassing to forget everything I know and give in to the emotions of the moment, but somedays it happens so unexpectedly and sneakily and I don’t know when the floodgate opened, but the gang’s all there.

So when I finally returned home, I cried out to God to remind me that I am Known, Seen and Loved – whether I feel like it or not.  I know I cannot let others’ opinions of me be the final word, especially when those words were spoken so long ago.  I need to go back even farther in time and listen to the words my Father God tells me:

“Though the mountains be shaken and the hills be removed, yet My unfailing love for you will not be shaken, nor my covenant of peace be removed,” says the Lord who has compassion on you.

Isaiah 54:10

I have loved you with an everlasting love.  With unfailing love, I have drawn you to myself.

Jeremiah 31:3

The clamor of voices from the media and others around you, telling you you’re not smart enough, pretty enough, or enough in any way are simply distractions to keep us from the simple truth that we are loved just as we are. 

Love from people is good, but what happens when they leave us, offend us or walk away?  We will all be betrayed in some way some day by a human – or by many humans.  It’s just what humans do because we are flawed.  Only the perfect loving Savior, Jesus Christ, can supply us with all we need.  To be Known, Seen and Loved.  

We are not what we do.

We are not what we have.

We are not what others think of us.

Coming home is claiming the Truth.

I am a beloved child of God.

We no longer need to beg permission from the world to exist.

Henri Nouwen

Love, Mom

A Busy God Box

October 5, 2021 / / 2 Comments

Dear Daughters,

A few weeks ago I wrote about the God Box – the act of physically casting our cares and worries on Jesus.  The idea is to get a little box and some small pieces of paper and write the names of the people or things you worry about on each piece.  Then one by one, place those worries in the God Box and leave them for Him to take care of.  But…if you start worrying about something listed on one of those papers, take it out and tell God you don’t trust Him with that specific person or situation and you will worry about it again – thank you very much. This is Craig Groeschel’s very practical idea from his book Winning the War in Your Mind.

Well, one of my dear friends who tends to worry more than she would like, actually decided to get a box and fill it with her worries.  I was so pleased to hear about it, but a few days later she texted some pictures lamenting that it had become a busy God box.  She would throw a name in but would soon find herself worrying about the very things and people she had just put in:

What about this?

What about that?

But what happens when…

So the lid came off, the paper came out, and the worrying would start again.  But, of course, that action in itself feels a bit silly because then it becomes blatantly obvious that our trust is waning.  So, the next step is to put the paper back in the box and give it back to God – where it belongs.

Out of the God Box, into the God Box.  Trust again.

Out of the Box, into the Box.  Trust some more.

It can get to be rather exhausting putting it in and taking it out, but our Father is so patient with us as we learn to trust over and over.

We have absolutely no control over anyone but ourself, no control over any circumstance which comes our way, but we do have control over how we will respond to whatever happens in our life.

When Jesus walked the earth, He repeatedly reminded us that He cares for the sparrows, the lilies of the field, all the creatures of the world.  If He cares for the grass of the field, which is here today and gone tomorrow, will He not care for you who is so much more important than the grass of the field or the birds of the air?  So why not cast your cares on Him?  Why not write down what keeps us awake at night, what consumes our thoughts with anxiety from the minute we wake up in the morning – and place it in the God Box? 

We were not created to carry the heavy yoke the world places on us or that we place on ourselves.  Only our Creator God is able to carry it all.

As Erma Bombeck says:

Worrying is like a rocking chair.  It gives you something to do, but doesn’t get you anywhere.

Sometimes it seems that our slips of paper in the God Box are turning yellow with age, but just when we think all is lost and God has forgotten us, the answer will come.  And never a moment too soon – or too late.  It may not be the answer we want, but it will inevitably be something greater than what we can imagine. Plus an added bonus – we will be able to live in peace.

Now to Him who is able to do far more abundantly beyond all that we ask or imagine, according to the power that works within us, to Him be the glory in the Church and in Christ Jesus to all generations for ever and ever, AMEN. 

Ephesians 3:20-21

Love, Mom

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