Lent - Or 40 Days of Faith

Last year Lent snuck up on me. Before I knew it, Lent was upon us and I hadn't thought even for a moment about it. I was pretty irritated about that, you can read all of my ranting about last years Lent here.

But this year, I'm in a very different place. I'm very much ready to engage in something special if it means that in the process I will be engaging with Jesus. My walk with Jesus has been changing dramatically over the last couple of months (in a very good way) and I'll write more about that later once I manage to get my brain wrapped around it a bit more. For now, I want to talk about this year's Lenten season and 40 Days of Faith.

So as Cam and I started considering how we would participate this year, we heard a short talk at church about a couple different categories of participation. In my words, the first is abstention and the other is engagement. You can either chose to abstain from something that is "important" to you or something that occupies a lot of your time or thought and replace that thing with prayer or meditation with Jesus. Or, you can chose to add something to your routine that would also enhance your walk with Jesus - add a devotional, read a particular book, a Bible study or engage in a specifically planned prayer time regularly.

We're chosing to do both. Cam isn't comfortable with me writing about how we have chosen to observe this year through both abstaining (fasting) and engaging (worship). So, we'll just kick off Lent tomorrow and see what God has in store.

Saying Yes

It has been almost 2 years since I completed classes at Eastwind School of Holistic Healing. The "plan" was that I would quit my job at Pearson (which I had already done but continued working there as a temp in a different department to help pay the bills) and I would work from home doing therapeutic massage.

In the midst of the six month program I had my second miscarriage. Coping with the loss made it nearly impossible for me to do any more than the bare minimum. My studies were compromised and my desire to do anything career related fizzled. I put on the "I'm OK" face and plowed through, somehow (by the grace of God) managed to pass my board exams eight months after I completed my course work. That was one year ago.

Not long after I finished school I was offered a new permanent position at Pearson; between benefits and a considerable pay raise I simply could not turn it down. So the "plan" was adjusted so that I could work full-time and do massage therapy part-time. Within weeks of accepting the new position life's waves crashed over me once again and four months later another blast. Four lost pregnancies and the mere idea of giving anyone at all a massage felt exhausting, constricting. People don't just get over stuff like that. I'm still coming out of my "grief coma" - sometimes in leaps sometimes in creeps.

A few nights ago I woke up in the middle of the night. I didn't want to be awake. Not a surprise. But what was a surprise was what felt like God asking me to do something. It felt nagging, irritating, and I tried to brush it off. But I couldn't sleep. Finally I said, "Fine. If I can sleep now, I'll do it." Seconds later I was fast asleep. So now I have to do what I was told: the application for my Iowa Bodywork and Massage license is in the mail.

The bible is full of stories of God asking his people to do things they don't want to do. Again and again, those who say yes are blessed abundantly. I hope I heard right. I hope for God's blessing. I often ask God to bless me, "just because he loves me". It's time to return the favor.

Giving and Ressurection

On Friday night Adi and I went out to dinner with my parents to a local restaurant. We traditionally have dinner with them on Friday nights, pretty much ever since Adi was a new born. As we left the restaurant, they had one of those cardboard boxes with lollipops sticking out and a quarter slot to donate to whatever cause it's representing. There was a couple there with an adorable little boy who so badly wanted one of those lollipops but his parents didn't have a quarter. If you are a parent or can recall being a child desiring candy you know what a big deal this can be. I wished I had a quarter to give them but I had no change, but my dad did. And he didn't even hesitate to give the child's mother the quarter just as his father went back into the restaurant to get change.

When I talk about the feeling I get when I have been so blessed that I have an opportunity to give, I don't even think about what that might look like from the outside. But Friday night I got to see it in my father. He absolutely glowed as he handed that quarter to this family, a small gift but so deeply appreciated. And my dad instantly became joyful! And as we left the entryway he looked back in time to see the father come out and wave to him in thanks. My dad glowed, and I felt proud to have him as my father, and to have him as Adi's Papa, leading by example. It was such a small event but it somehow felt like it was much bigger than it seemed. I saw this smile on my dads face, and witnessed a genuine connection between him and these strangers as he reached out to them in kindness. It was beautiful.

OK, so I was completely inspired and had Saturday all planned out to be a great family day full of giving cheer as we prepared the Operation Christmas Child shoe boxes together... as a family. Here's what really went down:

Cam was irritated that I didn't wrap the shoe boxes ahead of time, because to be honest wrapping the box and lid separately is kind of challenging and time consuming. Something a 3 1/2 year old doesn't readily engage in, unless you count bonking mommy on the head repeatedly with a wrapping paper roll while mommy wraps the boxes as engagement. It kept her from steeling the gifts that were divided into individual bags according to age group and hiding them under chairs while giggling hysterically. Kinda cute and funny but not when I'm trying to also keep scissors and tape away from her so she doesn't stab someone (Mojo) or waste what little tape we have on taping the boxes shut (not exactly the idea behind wrapping lids separately!)

So where was Cam during all of this? I told him to go away after acting grumpy which threatened to ruin my holiday cheer. His tolerance level was low and I can handle either grumpy hubby or wild and crazy child but not both at the same time.

Some time later, maybe around box three of six --- there's no magic in the number 6, there were 3 age groups to choose from and both boys and girls so I chose to bless all six --- so Cam comes upstairs to inform me that there's cat puke and poop on the rug downstairs. Great, thanks for telling me.

When I finally get done, all boxes wrapped and packed (this took at least a couple of hours) I decided I'd go clean up the rug. Wrong! Cam had thrown the area rug, poop and puke and all outside in our breezeway. I had no idea of knowing where poop was originally or puke for that matter so essentially the entire rug is ruined because I don't have a carpet steamer/cleaner to clean the entire thing. By now, I'm furious because Cam didn't just either clean the crap up himself and use spot cleaner to save our rug or just wait for me to take care of it. Instead, he spazzed out and virtually throws our rug away.I was so pissed I told Cam to call our friends whom we had plans with later that evening to tell them not to come. On top of that, I realized that part of the reason I was so upset and now bawling was because I had PMS, which meant that once again for yet another month I am not pregnant. This sets me off every month and often causes a downward spiral in my mind. Sheer crappiness.

So after Adi went to bed and I was downstairs enjoying a much deserved beer, I kept eying Adi's easel which we had set up earlier in the day for her to paint (she chose to paint a burning bush, yep, the Moses kind - ha ha). I'd take a look at the easel and then look back at the t.v. that I wasn't really paying attention to because I was too irritated to do much of anything. Finally I decided I would paint. A few days ago I found photographs of the last two pieces of art I did and I realized a lot of things about my 12 year artistic quiet period... then decided it was time to break the artistic silence.

I just started painting. On regular paper. Using washable acrylic red, orange, green and blue. I had nothing in mind, just started painting freely and it was like therapy that kept getting better and better as I went. Finally Cam says, "it looks like a peacock" and of course that irritated me and I snapped, "it's not a peacock!" because it wasn't anything. But as I stopped and looked at it I realized that we were both right in a way. It wasn't a peacock but it was a bird... in the end I had painted a phoenix. I couldn't believe it.

The phoenix is a mythical bird that represents rebirth and resurrection. After living hundreds of years it engulfs itself in flames and rises again from its ashes. It is immortal. For me, it is connected to who I am in so many ways. I'm sure I've mentioned before that my name Stacey comes from Anastasia which means "resurrection". Once I saw what I had painted, not setting out to paint anything in particular I realized how close God is right now. That He sees me and is guiding me and He knows me. God took my crappy day and redeemed it.

I'm Not Stupid, I Was Just Grieving!

So now that I've been back to work for a few weeks and things are starting to get busier, I'm feeling hyper-sensitive to things going on around me. For instance, the project manager of my main project has been giving work that I could be doing to a co-worker on a different project. I assume this is because he doesn't think I've been trained on the "new" process using the Mac instead of the PC. This isn't true, I learned the process early this week. So I wonder how many hours I've spent dinking around and waiting for work the past few days when I could be working on my assigned project?

I'm also noticing that as tasks are assigned and shared, I tend to get the mindless ones. If I were to, for example, build a book (sorry for the publishing references, I don't know how else to explain what's going on...) the people giving me the work sort of hesitate, like their thinking, "are you sure you can handle this?" The normal healthy me would be offended by this, and I was. But what is coming to light is my state of mental and emotional health over the last couple of years that I've worked in this department.

During that time I've had two miscarriages, finished massage school and accepted a full-time position in this department that I'm not really qualified to work in (no college degree). While in the process of grieving the losses of two pregnancies (and the build-up of having lost 4 total) I most certainly have NOT been functioning at full capacity over the past couple of years. Why this just hit me today, I don't know. But it feels like I need to somehow communicate this to my team. I doubt it's appropriate, though. I want to shout, "I'm not stupid, I was just grieving! I feel better now, Jesus is healing me more every day and I can think and I can learn and I am a valuable team member!" Surely I will never say these things, only exemplify them.

So now for my own sake, I just say thank you Jesus for the work you've done in me. To heal me and to help me move on, past the shadow of the valley of death, past grieving, and on to many things new.

1-2-3

Over the last several weeks I've been struggling with anger and frustration of not being pregnant. It seems that every month we try at the right times and yet here we are, six months after the OK to try again after the last miscarriage and no pregnancy. I know that six months of trying really isn't that long, but really we've been trying since Adi was about 9 months old so in reality we've been on this roller coaster for over 2 years now.



A few weeks ago I had a series of dreams that were related to pregnancy. In the midst of those dreams was one with a very different tone. It was God's voice which said, "My kingdom come, my will be done on earth as it is in heaven." This was really profound and powerful to hear, and to be honest it was scary. What does that mean? Is Jesus coming back soon and this is my warning? But isn't it always true that Jesus is coming back soon - it's all relative.

Anyway, when I got my period it became more clear to me that the dream was a reminder that God heard my prayers about growing our family but I needed to know first that His will be done. It was a message intended to carry me through the darkness and disappointment that crushed me when my period came just after what felt like such hope (my dreams about being pregnant). That was message #1.

To clarify, I often find that messages from God come in sets of three. When I hear a message three times it really solidifies that message for me. It's only been through experiences that this has proven to be extremely profound in my relationship with God.

So message #2 came in a radio broadcast on my way to CR to help my brother move. I don't remember the exact words, but in short: when we're in a dark place and it seems like everything sucks and is going against us, we can take heart in knowing that God is in that, doing His thing and "making arrangements" for us. God's work is just as active in our dark times as it is in our bright and joyous times.

Once I heard that message I knew it was connected to the first. God gave me hope through the dreams and when my hope felt crushed the spoken message (also a dream) kept my head above water. So now I hear this and begin to understand that God really is at work and patience is once again the lesson at hand as I consciously chose to wait for the third message.

I didn't have to wait long. In the Sunday service Ali B-G did the teaching and I'd have to go back and listen again for the exact words but I just clung to a piece of the teaching - that God is working in His time, according to His plan. That we have to wait on Him, if we didn't we might miss what He has in store for us. It was number three and I was so stirred, so shaken. It's hard to explain the emotions I felt when I came to understand. God's almighty power is hard at work even when it feels like He's completely forgotten me.

Thanks for the Walk

I found this image on flickr.

As I'm digging a little deeper into this vision thing I've found an interesting website that has been helpful with symbolism. It's http://www.christiansymbols.net/

I wanted to dissect the vision a little bit so I might find deeper and greater meaning in the details, I believe that each detail contains great value. All of this stuff is from the website above (highlighting and bolding are my emphasis).



THREE CASKETS – The three caskets brought by the wise men were gold, frankincense and myrrh. Each gift represents one office Jesus held. The gold was for the office of king, frankincense for the office of priest and myrrh for the office of prophet.

GOLD – 1. A symbol of great wealth. 2. Gold symbolizes a person being royalty. 3. It symbolizes Jesus’ kingly office.

HOST – A piece of unleavened bread. It is often flat and round, and can be referred to as a wafer. It is the consecrated bread of the Lord’s Supper (Eucharist). The word “host” comes from the Latin word hostia, meaning “sacrifice.”

BREAD – 1. Bread is the sustenance of life. Jesus Himself said, “I am the bread of life” (John 6:35). Therefore, bread makes an excellent symbol of life. 2. Bread was used at the Last Supper when Jesus broke the bread and said, “This is my body, broken for you…”(Luke 22:19). In this context the bread, usually shown with a chalice or bunch of grapes, represents the Lord’s Supper (Eucharist).



Sphere - I couldn't find any meaningful info online about the symbolism of a sphere (which was the shape of the host) but as I meditated on it while taking a walk this morning I came to understand that a sphere is all encompassing. A sphere is perfect. When I think of Jesus (who is the host and is the bread - and in this case I think is the sphere) among love, grace and joy I think of perfection.

So all of these things put together has helped me find a more meaningful interpretation:

The golden hands holding the golden spherical host represent God's sovereign hands offering me His son, Jesus Christ, the perfect sacrifice. The sustenance of life encompassing all that is good and true and full of love. Everything I need.

In the moments that I feel desperate to get viably pregnant God offers me Jesus. When I feel like a failure as a friend, a wife, or a mom, God offers me Jesus. When I feel burdens weighing heavily on me, God offers me Jesus. As my 'would be' due date of June 6th looms near, God offers me Jesus. Again and again God says, "Here. I have given you the perfect gift. I am here. I see. I have given you my son. Will you accept him?" How can I say no to that?

So I surrender and I accept and I will trust and I will wait. I am here and I hear. Thank you Lord.

Update: Golden Hands

One thing that didn't seem particularly important when I wrote my last post (mostly because I didn't know what it was or what it meant) was the fact that when I saw the vision and thought that it was bread I also knew that it was the "host". That didn't make sense to me because I don't know what a "host" is but after digesting this a bit with my prayer group I am beginning to learn more about it. Remember, I didn't go to church growing up and the Vineyard is very different from most other churches. I don't have much exposure to this stuff, though some of it is familiar.

According to wikipedia: Host (Holy Communion), bread in the Eucharist

I felt like that was an exciting development (for me anyway). As I learn more and process more, I will share more...

Golden Hands

Last night as I was putting Adi to bed I saw a short, simple vision: it looked something like what you see to the right (a Photo Shopped version of my vision). It was hands, in just this posture, holding something round. The vision was golden and looked more like pure gold and metallic than what I've recreated. I sat and pondered it for a moment and then went on to have a horribly difficult time getting Adi to go to sleep and therefore forgot about the image.

So today I'm wondering, what did my vision mean? I actually giggle at the fact that I have no doubt at all of what I saw and though it was short lived that it was real. And I know that I wouldn't be given a vision if it didn't mean something, so what does this mean?

Here are my initial thoughts: at first I thought the round object in the hands was bread. Then I thought, but it's too round. I don't think it's bread. It was round like a sphere, maybe like a globe. I also had a sense of giving/offering/receiving, but also being held and protected. I was searching the internet a bit for info on symbolism but that wasn't very helpful and I wasn't very dedicated to the search. I certainly have more digging to do but thought it was interesting and wanted to share it.

A Hard Holiday

As I'm surfing my friends blogs this morning I realize that I haven't posted anything for a while. The past week or so has been spent in somewhat of a funk. I'm sure a lot of factors go into that - PMS (period however unwelcome came on Monday) and Mother's Day, though a blessed day is always hard.

I'm so grateful for Adilyn. God was so generous in His blessing when He trusted us to be her parents! I still think that's just amazing, and that she's just amazing. This little girl has changed everything about how I look at life and I'm in awe of God's creation in her. She makes me want to be a better person, to know Jesus more so that our whole family can be founded on the love that Jesus has for all. And my heart sings because I am not just a daughter and a wife but I am also a mother.

I've never known anything in my life more clearly than that I would one day be a mother. Of course that's always looked a little different in my imagination that what it's looking like in reality. The biggest difference is that I only have one child with me here on earth. The others were lost before I even knew their names, before I got a chance to hold them and tell them face to face that I love them. That's the hardest part about Mother's Day for me. Before I ever became a mother I was a woman who had lost a child. It's so hard to find God in that, to find reason in that. So I cling to this:

God made me a mother. I have a beautiful daughter, Adilyn Rose. I will love her, protect her, and teach her about Jesus. I will probably screw up somewhere along the way, but I also know that God is gracious and has a sense of humor, so with any luck I won't screw up too bad. I may be overprotective at times but I'd rather be safe than sorry. And hopefully some day I will be able to give Adi a little brother or sister. The latter part is in God's hands and I trust Him, even though that can be so stinkin hard to do sometimes!

Praise God and thank you Lord, for making me a mommy.

Church Planting

The third word I got at the women's conference was: "You will be involved in a church plant". Ha ha!! When Cam and I went to the Cause Conference last year (largely devoted to church planters) I was super reluctant to even go because, "I'm not a church planter!" So when I heard this word given to me by the same woman who confirmed the other two that I had already been feeling directly from Jesus I had to laugh.

I don't really have much to say about this because I don't know enough yet. I was surprised by my own willingness to accept it and not fight God on this one. I just laughed and said, "I don't know if God could have picked three harder things to do..."

1. Worship
2. Teach
3. Church Plant

So there you have it. I only have a glimpse of how I'm going to get started on these three but I fully accept them and am now in the process of asking for more songs, more teachings and I trust that when the church plant I'm supposed to be involved in arrises God will make it clear.

Oh, gosh. So for all of my family and friends that have no idea what I'm talking about when I say church plant: a church plant is basically when a group of people prepare to start a new church "from scratch", then they go out and do it. Sometimes it involves moving far away, sometimes it's the next town over - wherever the planters feel like God is calling them to. Any questions, please feel free to ask!!

Teaching

I had a teacher in elementary school named Mrs. McNally. It just so happened that she was my teacher two years in a row, not because I flunked but because she moved from 2nd grade teacher to 3rd grade teacher and I was assigned to her class both years. Mrs. McNally encouraged my writing to such a degree that I felt all those years ago that I would like to be a teacher just like her. As I mentioned in my last post, in high school I though art would be my forte. I never did go to school to become a teacher, but that doesn't mean teaching is any less in my heart.

So when I started getting glimpses of "future teachings" over the past several years, it didn't come as any real surprise. The surprise for me, however, was the kind of teaching I was envisioning. Teaching about Jesus. "But I don't really know that much about Jesus. I don't know much about the Bible either. How could I ever teach about Jesus. I'm totally unqualified!" But still, the ideas kept coming, and like the songs, I refused to write them down.

The second thing that was highlighted for me at the conference was teaching. Not teaching art but "preaching" - oh how I hate that word. I cringe when I think of myself preaching anything. I'm not one who likes to be preached to... maybe it's just my misconception of the word? Regardless, I felt as though I heard loud and clear that God wanted me to teach. I asked what I should do first and the answer was so simple and wonderful, "teach your prayer group my ways, the ways of the Holy Spirit."

Oh how I have a big place in my heart for the Holy Spirit, and my prayer group is already well aware of that. This will be easy, I thought. How easy it will really be, I don't know. But I'm so excited to try. First step, we're going to learn about the history and foundation of the Vineyard. And I pray that we'll be so inspired that we'll be the crazy ones out there "doin' the stuff" as John Wimber would say. I love it!

And when in prayer I heard a new teaching and this time I wrote it down. Two days in a row. I haven't heard any since, but like the songs, I'd like more, please Jesus!

Worship

I have loved music my entire life. I used to memorize songs by Madonna and then once I had lead vocals memorized I would memorize the backup too. I started writing songs in elementary school - I studied song structure from the insert in the cassette case and wrote... I must have written dozens.



Then I held an audition at my house with several other girls from school, I was going to create a girl band, just like the boy bands (NKOTB) I totally thought girls could do it better. HA ha! It never went anywhere but I still think it's hilarious that I tried at such a young age, I must have been 10 or 11! And I just remember the passion I had for singing (though never very well) and how I would love to go outside on warm rainy days and sing in the rain. My personal form of worship.



I always had the desire to play piano, guitar and other musical instruments but I was also a gymnast and my family couldn't afford for me to do both. I chose gymnastics over music lessons because I could still listen to music and sing. Then we fell on harder times and I had to give up gymnastics too. But I still had my music.



In junior high I wanted to be in the show choir. Everyone had to take choir class but show choir was optional. I auditioned but failed miserably. I was crushed. I remember so clearly trying to read the sheet music and sing the right tone but getting distracted by other voices and I just couldn't follow a tune. I was so frustrated!! I knew I could have done it if I'd had time to study it, to memorize it. But we didn't get that option and I didn't get a spot in the show choir :(



I continued to write in high school, though I moved more toward poetry and concentrated heavily on art. My senior year consisted of a required math class, an elective abnormal psychology class and several art classes! I loved it. I did art all day long. I decided then that I wanted to be an art teacher (which never happened but I've always been a teacher at heart).



When I first came to church I cried and cried and didn't know why. Little did I know that the Holy Spirit was preparing my heart to accept Jesus. Cam immediately wanted to listen to Christian radio which drove me completely insane! I hated it. Much of it was cheesy and awful. Slowly God changed my heart and I began to thirst for more worship, not just on Sunday and I found that in Christian radio. Now instead of only one station I have three to choose from so if I don't like a song, I just push a button :)



Cam and I have always been fans of live music and we saw a Christian band called Third Day last summer. I remember after the show I was so inspired, alive and my heart just said, "I want to do that!" But I immediately told myself that I can't sing worship songs without crying and would never be able to do that!



I've had dreams with worship songs that I knew I should write down but I dismissed them. One specific dream was this: I heard a song in the dream and thought, "that's an awesome song - I should write it down". Then I decided not to. Next I heard it on the radio (still in the dream) and I thought, "see, someone else wrote the song down and now it's on the radio." It wasn't until recently that I realized that what God was saying is that He will bless me with the songs but it's up to me to do something with them. If I don't, He'll just give them to someone who will!



Aside from dreams I've had several random people ask me if I was a singer. Always out of the blue and with no explanation. Bizarre. A friend had a dream that I was in an orchestra with her playing a cello. I've had ministry times that have emphasized worship in one way or another. It keeps coming up, again and again.



It came up at the women's conference: I felt really full of the Spirit but wanted more. I felt like God said, "go give some away and I will give you more" Off I went to pray for other women. After a meaningful ministry time with one particular woman she looked at me and said,

her: "I have a word for you:"
me: "bring it on!"
her: "Worship. Do you sing? Do you play any instruments?"
me: "No, and no."
her: "Do you want to?"
me: "I have a guitar but haven't learned to play yet..."
her: "Go home, and learn to play your guitar and God will bless you."



Wow. Seriously? That's huge. That's scary. What if I make a fool of myself? I guess at least I'll be a fool for Jesus.



When I got home I woke up one morning with a song. I wrote this one down :) I'd like more, please Jesus!

Words From Run It 2

I feel like there were three main words that were the focus for me at the women's conference. I think I've hesitated to share on my blog because I still don't really know exactly what they mean - only that they are real and God has placed them on my heart. I have the difficult task, now, of trying to figure out what I'm supposed to do about them. I know this is very cryptic, but I'm trying...

I don't know how to share all of this without pretty significant background in each of the three areas because the background is what makes it real for me. The background is how I know I can't dismiss the bits and pieces I've been getting here and there (truly since a child for two of the areas!) All of this is exciting, yet I tread with care because I have a tendency to get discouraged when things don't move along as quickly as I think they should. These things could be far in my future but I want to begin preparing now.

A significant ministry time sounded something like this as one woman prayed for me (I'm praying about two of the three things during this time as I feel like God is bringing them into the light for me, though I'm coming forth with a significant amount of doubt):

"You are qualified"
"You are called"

And I thought "but I'm dangerous!" (meaning lack of filter and a bit radical)

"You come with your list of disclaimers" (I liked that one, answered "I am dangerous")
"But it's not about you....it's about me" (Jesus)
"Don't despise small beginnings"

And I cried. OK God. I submit.

There's so much more to this - I'm going to share each word in it's own post in an attempt to organize my thoughts. We'll see how well that works out!

Run It 2

It's been 9 days since I arrived back home from my excursion to the Run It 2 Vineyard Women's Conference in Evanston, IL. I've been a little reluctant to write about it because it was such a full experience and honestly I'm still processing it.

Unfortunately, I got puking sick with the flu during the last session on Saturday night and spent a challenging car ride home trying not to throw up or poop my pants! It wasn't very much fun, but God was graceful enough to let me sleep through the majority of it, save the few roadside pit stops required for me to purge the few sips of water I managed to drink following the previous ditch barf. Now that I'm not sick I can use all of these fun throw up words. I'm a freak, I know :)

So I was sick for several days and Adi is honestly just now getting back up to about 95% after getting sick as well. I just got word this morning that Adi spread the love to her Papa and he's down for the count right now :( Being ill and caring for Adi has made processing the wonderful parts of the conference a little strange. I've been so engulfed in vomit and poo that I've barely been able to just reflect on all the things I felt like God was telling me at the conference.

I still need to sit on some of my stuff before sharing it here. There's some exciting stuff to share, I just need more time.

Thanks, Rachel Norman, for sharing this picture of Rachelle, Amy and I at the conference!

Lent

If it gives anyone a clue about where I am mentally right now, it wasn't until my prayer group met on Tuesday that I realized yesterday was the first day of lent. I've never observed lent, and though I considered observing it this year I was more excited to try something different - 40 Days of Faith, which is a faith experiment the Boston Vineyard (http://www.bostonvineyard.org/) has done over the past several years.

When I went to the site to check out this year's agenda, I was bummed to find out that they are doing something different this year: 40 Days Of Devotion. While I'm sure this will be powerful and lovely for all those who choose to participate, it feels much more like the traditional lent that most churches observe. For whatever reason, I'm not connecting to lent right now - and I don't want to do something just because everyone else is doing it.

The lead pastor wrote this about the Wikipedia entry on lent (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lent):

...And I'm especially intrigued by the last sentence, talking about how some folks don't like to follow any dietary restrictions in response to 1 Timothy 4:1-5, which might gain even more resonance when you realize (if the Wikipedia gang is right) that Lent came into being after Christianity was made a state religion under Constantine, and so suddenly church folks had to figure out who was "serious" and who was just going along with the societal flow.

It seems to me that the answer to those objections to fasting during Lent would come through seeing Lent as an opportunity, not an obligation. Lent clearly isn't biblical (being instituted, as it was, in the 4th century), but perhaps all those centuries of church folks practicing it suggest that many people have found value in such a season. And it doesn't seem to be anti-biblical if it's chosen, not imposed.

Maybe my objection to lent has more to do with a sense of obligation rather than choice. I know the Vineyard doesn't impose lent in an obligatory way, but it seems as though I've recieved it that way and have rejected it. I'm sure that my personality has a bit to do with that, but I feel like maybe what I really need to feel led to participate in lent is for the Holy Spirit to put it on my heart and highlight it for me. I don't know if I'm asking for that or not... I think I'm just trying to figure it out.

Whoa, What Was That?

I wrote this post last Thursday but held on to it before publishing because I felt like there was something much deeper going on than what I was seeing at the time. I really wanted to process a bit more before putting it out there:

Oh my GOSH! My co-worker just came in and was complaining about his ankle/foot or whatever. He mentioned Cortisone injections and I cringed because I know what overuse of the stuff can lead to... just more and more problems. He got pissed off at me and went off about how I shouldn't say anything at all if I didn't know what I was talking about, of course using a series of choice words in the process. He proceeded to attack my "natural cures" mentality and went on and on...


I didn't even have time to defend myself. I just started bawling. And then hyperventilating. I don't know if I've ever cried like that before. Certainly not at work. Between gasps for air I managed to tell my co-worker about my last 3 miscarriages - I've been wanting to do that for a while now. I had to go to the bathroom and get on my knees and pray, I wasn't sure what was going on or why I was so emotional. I seriously could not breathe!

So now looking back on all of that, I can see several things happening. I've been praying for my co-worker for a while now, he tends to be a bit grumpy and I pray for undeniable, inexplicable joy. I saw that I've been wishing him nothing but good things and when he attacked me personally it broke my heart. It reminds me of a time when I was looking to adopt a cat. I went to the animal shelter and took a kitty out of it's cage to play with her and for no reason at all she went nuts and bit me. I cried because I thought she was lovely and I wanted to give her a good home but she just attacked me. It broke my heart.

Then I considered the fact that he had directly attacked a core piece of who I am. For years and years now, I've believed in and researched natural cures for every ailment I've encountered. When the doctors told me that they can't "fix" me so I won't have any more miscarriages I was forced to believe that it was my responsibility to find out how I can prevent it from happening again through health and nutrition. So in a way my co-worker's attack went far deeper than he could have ever meant it to. He not only attacked me but he also attacked my hopes.

Next. here is a quote from an email conversation I later had with this co-worker: "I guess I can make any day a bad day for others. Maybe at 60 11/12 I should work on that. " Looking at that now I realize, wow. Could God be in this in a bigger way than I anticipated?

Finally, at the close of service at church on Sunday, Adey shared that she had a sense of 5 people needing healing from something. I asked God if that was me, and I came to know that the answer was no. Somehow in those long moments of gut wrenching wails, desperate gasps for breath and deep seeded cries for mercy while on my knees in the bathroom floor changed me. I didn't feel different right away, just broken. But Jesus was there with me and in that devastatingly vulnerable space he healed my heart. Who is this king of glory? My Jesus! My friend, my savior, my healer, my redeemer. Holy holy!!

Who Am I Really Mad At?

So a series of recent events that I won't rehash has really gotten me thinking hard about the state of being angry at God. The number of times that I've been angry at God in the past 6 months spills far beyond counting on my fingers and toes.

I've often taken out my frustration in life on God, pleading with Him to change my circumstances or do something to help me and my expectations are high because He is a God who can do all things! But what if He did everything everyone asked Him to? I think the movie Bruce Almighty comically touches on that a bit and the truth is that the whole world would be way more messed up than it already is if God answered all of our prayers exactly as we desired.

That realization doesn't make it an easier to not get angry with God when life seems to take a turn for the worse. But this morning I was praying and asked myself, how often do I blame God for myself. How often am I angry at God when really, deep down, I'm angry at myself. For a failure, or a mistake, a loss, a circumstance. And I felt like God was saying that it was OK for me to be mad at Him sometimes, though even better to look deeper and realize when I'm really just mad at myself. That's where God is for me right now, that's where God wants to change me.

Another Street Light

God blessed me with a miracle last night, Adi went to bed at 8:30. Small miracle, I know, but for me it was heavenly. That meant I had time to pack my breakfast and lunch for today and do a few dishes, the basic stuff I don't get to do when Adi won't go to sleep until 10 or 11. I was filled with glee and thought to myself, "wow, just imagine how great it would be if this could be the routine every night." I realized just how much all of this bedtime stuff was taking its toll.

So I'm driving along feeling pretty good this morning because for the first time in a while I wasn't running late for work. Then it happened. Another stinkin street light went out just as I was passing. Now maybe other people notice this happening all the time too and just choose to ignore it, which is fine. I decided that I was going to ask God about it this morning and I felt like he said just listen.

I reached out to turn off the radio but something made me pull back and I left it on. I was listening to the end of a song and then the d.j. and then I drifted. A short conversation I had recently popped into my head:

friend: "so where are you on the fertility front these days"
me: "well, doc told us to wait until January to try again to be sure I'm clear of methotrexate"
friend: "so are you just counting days again"
me: "no, not really....(I proceed to tell her about this months cycle, blah blah blah).... I guess we've kinda felt like not really trying for a while. Just let whatever happens happen..."

I asked God if He disapproved of my response. I asked Him what He would have wanted me to say. It was the truth. I asked Him if He wanted conception in the foreground instead of the background. Then I cried. I told Him that it was too hard; that it took too much energy. That I wanted it to be fun, happy, exciting and lovely. Not scary, difficult, full of fear and doubt and littered by the past.

I realized I hadn't completely healed. So I asked Him to change me, change my heart, heal me and guide me. I can't do it on my own. I've been trying so hard to do so much on my own and push the hard stuff aside. Funny what God tells you when you just listen.

Fine, how are you?

When asked how I am doing my standard response these days is "fine, how are you?" The truth is, I'm not really sure a lot of the time. I'm mostly stressed, a little over scheduled for the holidays and a bit disconnected. Does God ever ask us to step back and take a look around us? I feel like He's asking me to do that. To just stop thinking, planning and analyzing and take a look around. I wonder what He wants me to see.

I've been encountering a strange phenomena several times per week since I had my two doses of methotrexate in October. Lights go out around me. Sometimes as I approach, sometimes as I arrive, but most recently it's usually just after I've already passed by. I might not consider this strange except it's been so very frequent. I joked with Cam after the fourth light in our house burnt out in my presence over the course of only a couple of days that I was radio-active from the drug and I was making all the lights burn out.

It didn't stop at house lights, though. It's been street lights and business sign lights. Whatever. I notice in passing too frequently that lights are going out all around me. I don't know what it means or even if it is significant in any way. God talks to me in weird ways sometimes, maybe this is something I should pay attention to. Then again, maybe I'm only being silly and reading too much into a common occurrence that I just happen to be witnessing more often than normal. At any rate, it has caught my attention...

21 Days Come to an End

My 21 days of faith experiment ended yesterday. I gleefully broke my fast by enjoying a beautiful meal at Oyama, a wonderful Japanese restaurant with my family last night. I always like eating Japanese food because I feel like I ate something good for me and never feel like I'm going to explode when I leave (except one time several years ago when I had sake and it gave me such bad gas I thought I was going to die - seriously. But that's a different story and believe it or not Tums came to the rescue so I survived. HA!)

Now I'm looking back and reflecting on all the things that the 21 days did in me. What I realized was that going deeper into faith can be frustrating, scary and difficult. My 21 days were a whirlwind of emotions as God called things out of me to deal with. And you know what? I had to deal with them because of my fast from cooked food. Any other time I probably would have noticed God bringing something up and then fighting Him by burying myself in some unhealthy behavior like eating a whole bag of Doritos. I would feel the pain of my weaknesses and self medicate with junk instead of and saying, "Yes, I do this or that, and it's not OK. Jesus help me change it."

So what I'm taking home with me out of this experiment is faith. Not because I asked for a miracle and saw a miracle happen on the outside but because God showed me many small miracles inside and helped me to begin to change the ugly parts of who God never intended me to be.

I started out asking Jesus to step in to my life and help me change my eating lifestyle but the very first night God told me that He wanted to work on something else. And I was pissed! And then God told me he wanted to work on that too!! HA ha. It was a crazy start to something that was supposed to be faith building - God tearing down my useless defenses first. Isn't He smart? But I felt like I was going nuts and the new thing we were working on wasn't going well.

The bedtime routine with my daughter was getting completely out of control so I knew only after God pointed it out (duh) that this was the miracle I needed to see in my life right now. I was spending hours each night trying to get Adi to sleep and much of that time was spent with me crying and cursing God for not helping me. Oh man, did I ever have to repent for that! But I felt alone, I felt abandoned and I felt like there was really no point in praying any more if God wasn't going to answer my prayers.

I had come to a point of giving up on hope and deciding that I was going to have to do it on my own, without the help of my God. It didn't take long for God to set me straight on that because now I felt dead spiritually and my only chance at life was to admit I couldn't do it on my own and I begged Jesus to forgive me and just be with me. I think that was the weekend I desperately needed to be in worship and church but I was scheduled to serve in the toddler room. Funny how that always seems to happen. Kind of like God saying, "Don't depend on worship and church - depend on Me! Turn your eyes to Me!"

My next lesson was patience. This one keeps coming up for me. I don't know if I'll ever get it right. God showed me that I needed to be patient with Adi. She's two and a half. She's just a child - what she needs most from me are love, consistency and patience. So I knew I had to slow down. I had to look at some resources and figure out a plan. And then I had to stick with the plan and finally (and most importantly) I had to be patient!

Another place where patience became vital was in waiting for my period to come. It's so hard to just wait around, not knowing when I'll be able to move on and get my test done and find out what the heck is wrong with me and why I can't seem to stay pregnant. I felt myself getting irritated because I felt very much like I was experiencing PMS (with meltdowns and extreme emotions) but I couldn't tell if it was because I actually had hormones doing crazy stuff or if it was because I didn't have cooked food to turn to. So I had to be patient and wait.

Finally another Sunday came and I was so completely on edge to begin with. I didn't know if I had any faith at all. I was so low and so desperate. And then I had to listen to a testimony about grasping for what we want vs. waiting and receiving what God has for us. Though I had heard the testimony before it threw me way off. I was feeling good about deciding to have the HSG done and then all of a sudden I was forced to consider whether doing so was just grasping and not waiting and receiving. I think I wrote a blog entry about this because it was pretty relevant. Ultimately I came to a place of knowing in my heart that I have two choices. I can continue on the way I have been and take the risk of having many more miscarriages, or I can accept the technology that could tell me what is wrong and possibly help me prevent it from ever happening again. My heart can't keep going through miscarriages. I just can't. I'm getting the test and once again, I feel good about that.

That same afternoon I went to a prophetic ministry time that was wonderful and affirming for me. God told me to keep praying. He told me other things that I desperately needed to hear and I left feeling like Jesus had restored me. I felt my faith grow, my heart heal, and the spirit of joy.

My final week was probably the easiest in terms of faith but the hardest in terms of my fast. I stayed on my fast through both Thanksgiving dinners that we attended and it was miserable. But I did it. Cam was so proud of me and I was just a grumpy old fuddy duddy! But family made it all better and I was grateful to have been able to make a choice between cooked and raw food and that there was an abundance of each. So many people in the world (including right here in our country) aren't so blessed.

This post is already so long. There's so much more I could say and other ways I can see God working in me but I think I just want to close by saying that my faith experiment was exactly what it should have been. Did I see an answer to prayer? Yes, I did. Just not in the way I expected to. I think 21 days was perfect for me and I can't wait until the next faith experiment comes up - if God did all of this in 21 days, I can only imagine what He could do in 40!