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Thursday, January 6, 2011

Eleven and a half years

I have begun to think that I do not understand the difference between joy, peace and happiness.

So, I decided to look up the definitions.

Might I just say right now...I would give ANYTHING for a good old Noah Websters Dictionary!

"It is reported that Noah Webster’s 1828 American Dictionary contains the greatest number of Biblical definitions given in any reference volume. Webster considered "education useless without the Bible". "

For you see, that is what I am looking for, definitions to these things which elude me, based on the Word of God. Oh...I looked them up, but online dictionaries are just as watered down and convoluted as everything else now. No wonder no one can find true peace. No one knows what the heck it means anymore!

What happened to absolutes? Can someone please tell me? What happened to right and wrong and black and white and good and bad...and when did all of the gray move into the very definition of the words to the things which are most important in our lives? Joy, peace, happiness, morality, right, wrong, good, bad....family.

We have lived here, in our little town, in the same house,for eleven and a half years now. We moved a LOT before we came here. From the time of my birth I had never lived in one house for more than 21 months before coming here when I was 32.

During the eleven and a half years that we have lived here I have always said that this is the only place where I have ever had peace in my life.

Then, this morning, while sitting in the bottom of the shower stall, crying and pondering the state of my life at this time, I realized that I have been confusing STABILITY...and occasional HAPPINESS...with peace.

Because when I am totally honest with myself. We have not had very much "peace" in the eleven and a half years we have lived here. We were blessed to find this house, we moved in and fixed it up, we immediately joined a church....and after a little more than a year we realized that the whole time we had been there some one had been spreading rumors and telling lies about our family and after being hauled in before the elders and being questioned and yelled at for more than an hour, we eventually lost all of our close friends and our church family.

SO, I promptly said I would never go back to church, because churches are made up of people, and they are idiots.

This lasted maybe a month before I realized that I wanted my children in a place where they could hear the word and be in fellowship because there is NOTHING like a corporate anointing. You know that anointing of the Holy Spirit that falls when His people join together in praise and worship of Him and the word is broken and people are working together for the good of their Lord?!?! There is just nothing like it. It is not better than individual time spent with the Lord....it is just DIFFERENT...and needed!

So, we found another church. And it was good for a while. And I thought I had found peace...and happiness...and joy...even though it took me over a year to be able to go to church without getting sick...because PEOPLE go to church. And I had had just about enough of PEOPLE.

ANYWAY...things were good for a while. And I THINK there may have been a little peace in my life. There WAS happiness...and a fair amount of joy.

And then...everything changed. Our nice little world turned upside down. For various reasons. Leadership at churches change, family moves away, the little bit of financial security you thought you had dries up,your body turns on you, and the enemy you have worked so hard to protect your children from gains a foothold in an area you thought you had protected...and four and a half years later you realize that you do not remember the last time you truly felt peace in your life....or joy...although there is some occasional happiness.

SO...What do you do when you wake up one morning and realize that the "peace" you thought you had been feeling for 11 and a half years was really only "stability"...with a few happy times...and a little joy thrown in for good measure?

Truth: Real peace only comes when you are in a viable relationship with our Heavenly Father. This is truth.

Truth: The circumstances you find yourself in do not bring you peace. They can bring you happiness...and a fair amount of joy...but not peace. This is truth.

Fact: I am in a viable relationship with my Heavenly Father. It grows and changes every year and at times every day. I have learned that he is my only refuge in times of turmoil.

So...where is my peace?

And...what do I do with the knowledge that I have stood so firmly in one place for so long because I THOUGHT what I was feeling was PEACE...when it was actually STABILITY I had found?

Is this the place for me..for us? In truth, the only thing holding US here are a job, a mortgage and a grandson on the way. And the only thing holding ME here are the man with the job and the mortgage, the children he has given me and a grandson on the way.

BUT...what if...these things are anchors created by my father to hold me in place so that I couldn't run away when I finally realized that a house or a church or life in a small town had not actually brought me peace?

AND...Maybe...these anchors are the things that continue to hold me fast when my heart is torn asunder by the choices made by one most precious to me...and the knowledge that if this precious one continues down the path they travel now...I may actually lose part of these earthly anchors.

The gypsy ways of my youth call to me daily. The need to run and hide from all that is going on around me is ever present. Everyone thinks I am firmly planted here with my crafts and my garden and my chickens. They only see the mom, the cookie baker, the wanna be Martha Stewart, the responsible one...the fixer. When in actuality I fight the longing to run on an almost daily basis. The only thing that has held me into place thus far is an indescribable love for one man and for the children he has given me and the desire that my children would not have to move once a year when they reached middle school.

It took me eleven and a half years for me to realize that my peace does not reside in this house or this town. I guess that was just long enough for God to anchor me, good and fast, so that when he was ready to continue his work in me I couldn't run away.

Maybe my journey is not one measured by how many miles I can run, but by the number of times I DON'T run.

And maybe...now that I understand what peace ISN'T...I might actually find it.

Tuesday, January 4, 2011

Flying Monkeys, Chris Farley and Playing Possum

In this world, those who seek the truth will also find trouble.
~ Gary Amirault

In a time of universal deceit, telling the truth is a revolutionary act.
~ George Orwell

Candor is a double-edged sword; it may heal or it may separate.
~ Wilhelm Stekel

The truth will set you free, but first it will make you miserable.
~ Jim Davis

************************

The search for righteousness is a rocky path. Once you set out to follow it, you encounter "road blocks".

As I begin to set forth this analogy clips of "The Wizard of Oz" flicker through my mind. If Oz is truth/righteousness and the yellow brick road is the path which leads us there....then the Wicked Witch is the Enemy and the flying monkeys, the trees pelting us with apples and the field of poison poppies are all of the things which the Enemy sets in our path to prevent us from reaching our goal.

And no...Oz is not Heaven and the Wizard is not God. Although I DO believe that a heart, a brain, courage and a home or the things found upon attaining righteousness.

Sorry people, these kinds of things are what you might encounter when reading the blog of a woman-child raised on pop culture.... and who, by the way, read EVERY Oz book ever written.

Now from the ridiculous to the sublime....

All of this began two days ago when I wrote my first blog of the new year.

I poked my head out of my hole and called attention to myself instead of hiding in the shadows. And then when the enemy attacked in the form of a killer headache, the interruption of my best laid plans, a look at our financial situation and some unwelcome news...I had to decide if I would indeed heed my own advice or play possum.

I tried to play possum.

BUT when the attack continued today...I tried some Sweet Ninja Skills. ALTHOUGH...my ninja skills look more like Chris Farley in "Beverly Hills Ninja than Michael Dudikoff in "American Ninja".

Anyway,I went to my favorite daily devotional by Charles Spurgeon, which I confess I haven't done in several weeks, and I started by reading the chapter surrounding the scripture reference, 2 Peter 3:18.

Grow in grace, and in the knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

Backing up a couple of beats....Just the reading of that one scripture at the opening of the devotional made me what to quit right there. "Growing" always involves GROWING PAINS...and that is the last thing I want to think about today. No pain, no growing, now striving or seeking!! I wanted the nice, soothing reassuring scriptures. 2 Peter 3 is all about last days and people following their own evil desires and things are going to be destroyed by fire and how because of these things we must live holy, godly and spotless lives!!!

AARRRGGG!!!!

So, on to the devotional itself...

I'm reading, reading, reading....hard words, Victorian language....and then...like a neon sign....

"HE WHO GROWS NOT IN THE KNOWLEDGE OF JESUS, REFUSES TO BE BLESSED"

Is is too late to go back to playing possum.

This is the prayer I wrote based upon this devotional....

Allow me to grow in grace, O Lord. Grow my faith and let it increase in fullness, constancy and simplicity. Free me to grow also in love. I ask that you extend it, make it more intense, more practical and that it influence my every thought, word and deed. Show me more of my own nothingness so that I might grow likewise in humility. Allow me to grow upwards toward you in prayer and grant me a more intimate relationship with your son. May I, through the power of the Holy Spirit, grow in the knowledge of my Lord and Savior. Grow me up the knowledge of your son that I might be blessed.

Sooo....there you have it. Cheryl Pyle, attempting to use her Sweet Ninja Skills, Chris Farley style.

Right before I started writing this, I read an email from our good friend Mark M. He is sending out a daily email as we go through our 21 day fast/90 read through the bible. In today's email Mark provided some some scripture and encouraging words I thought useful and on topic....and I decided to pass it along.

"Luke 10:19 says “Behold, I give unto you power to tread on serpents and scorpions, and over all the power of the enemy: and nothing shall by any means hurt you.”

Spiritually speaking, life is a battlefield. Most of the battles that we fight are not “of the flesh”, meaning they don’t have to do with things in the natural, but instead, they are spiritual battles. (Ephesians 6:12)

As soldiers, God gives us armor and weapons (Ephesians 6:13-18) and he gives us the power to use the artillery he has given us. In this passage in Luke, serpents are symbolic of Satan, (Rev 12:9; Gen 3:1-14) and scorpions are symbolic of evil spirits/evil men. (Rev 9:1-5; 9:10)

No matter what we face, we can be encouraged that through Christ, we have authority and dominion over negative influence we encounter. Amen?"

AMEN BROTHER!!

Sunday, January 2, 2011

Hit the Ground Running in 2011 with Barbed Wire and Ninja Skills

Well, it's January 2 and thanks to a LOT of help from my two hardworking men, all of the Christmas decorations are put away and the house is "sort of" back to normal. To be totally honest, if it weren't for Jeff and our two younger children, the Christmas decorations would have never made it out of storage...nor would there have been any Christmas cookies.

2010 was a very hard year. I told Jeff this morning that I thought at this time of our lives things were supposed to be getting easier. Instead we seem to be in the EXACT same place we were when we were young marrieds. Jeff has a great job but we have no money, we drive used junker cars and there is a baby on the way. The only differences are, we are paying on a mortgage instead of renting, my parents live four states away, we have three grown children, the baby on the way is our grandchild and although it may not seem like it to some of you, my head knowledge of the Lord has grown into an actual relationship with Him.

Oh...and I am 22 years older, so the body aches a lot more and I have reached a place in my life were I don't really give a hoot what anyone thinks of me, my family or my relationship with the Lord. AND, I have very little patience with young people who think they know more than I do about children, relationships, God, or just about anything related to having been a wife and a mother for nearly twenty-five years.

I do not mean to appear negative. Please forgive me if I do. I have recently come to understand a couple of really important things though....

1) There is ALWAYS going to be someone in your life who does not "approve" of how you live your life.... ALWAYS. There are just people out there who didn't get enough love from their parents, or whose blood sugar is too high...or two low, or maybe they are just spoiled or they have no confidence in themselves..or in the Lord...and it makes them feel better about themselves when they can point out every thing they THINK you are doing wrong and how you SHOULD be living your life. It's just the way things are. If they are part of your family...someone you have to do life with...just smile and nod and pray that the Lord use them to refine you... or grow a backbone and try to talk to them about it. If they aren't...smile and wave bye-bye...cause life's full of enough crap without letting someone run their cattle on your land and fill it up with any MORE!! Put up some barbed-wire for crying out loud.... set some boundaries!!

2) Anytime you strive to make a better life for yourself, to grow, to stretch, to move ahead, the enemy is gonna try to knock you on your keister.(He might even use those mentioned above to do so.) There will be hurdles,and sucker punches and you WILL be blindsided. So get yourself some sweet ninja skills and when you get hit... tuck, roll and come up fighting! BTW...Sweet Ninja skills probably should involve some time spent in prayer and the word and having a pretty good network of friends willing to pray for you and find comfortable furniture for your pregnant daughter.

(Do you think I've mixed enough metaphores yet?)

Anyway...enough of that! I don't have TIME to wallow in the misery of 2010! I must RISE to the need and expectations of 2011!! We have a grandson on the way and TONS to do before he gets here. There will be the trading of bedrooms and moving of furniture and painting and sewing and baby showers and LOTS of birthdays and our 25th anniversary between now and March 30th when the Wee One is due!!

If 2010 was the year of angst and tears then 2011 will be a year of new beginnings. Here we are...not yet three days into a new year and we already have a good start on a list of highs....

1)Jeff's father married his long time girl Bea in a quiet ceremony in East Texas this weekend!!

2)Jeff and I have started the new year by beginning a 21 day fast (me from FB and coke, Jeff from Coffee)...

3)... as we attempt to read through the Bible in 90 days!

4)The Christmas decorations are put away!

5)Keaton made his first pot of stew today...and it was WONDERFUL!

6)Tomorrow is the 77th birthday of my Uncle Willard....whom I love dearly!

Tomorrow, January 3,2011...we hit the ground running. Jeff goes back to work, Keaton goes back to school, Kaitlyn and I try to beat back the clutter which has overtaken our home and Kirsten keeps on doing what she does best...serving up coffee and her dazzling smiles, all the while taking care of herself and the Wee One!

Let's do this thing people!!!

Thursday, December 2, 2010

Reconciling The Grinch and Baby Jesus Within Myself

I pray O Lord that the spirit within me find a way to celebrate the LIFE of your Son in some special way during this advent season. Your ways are unknown to me. Help me to set aside my reluctance to be shoved into a box by society AND the traditions of the church and just ENJOY this time of year. Allow me to be an example to my children. Let me not forget the lessons learned during these lean years. I believe they are important. Lead me to create a whole NEW set of traditions based on your love and the example your sacrifice sets for us. I see the spark of a new way of life Lord. Give me the breath and the strength to fan it into a flame.

In my struggle to bring the secular vs the spiritual sides of this holiday season into alignment within myself I found this modern day parable touching.

Blessings to all this second day of December 2010!

The Parable of the Shopper
Author unknown

My feet were tired, my hands cold, my arms exhausted from the weight of the packages, and it was beginning to snow. The bus was late. I kept rearranging my packages, trying to hold them in a different way in order to give my poor arms a rest. I still remember that day as if it were yesterday, and yet fifteen years have gone by. Nevertheless, when Christmas rolls around, I remember that day on the bus.

I was tired. I had been Christmas shopping all day long. When the bus finally arrived, it was packed with holiday shoppers in the same exhausted mood as I. I sank into the only vacant place, near the back, by a handsome gentleman. He politely helped me to situate my packages and even held some of them himself.

"My goodness," he said, "did you leave any merchandise still in the stores for the rest of us?"

"I don't think so," I moaned. "Worst of all, I still haven't made all of my purchases."

The woman in the seat behind us joined in my grief and added, "No, the worst thing is that the day after Christmas we will be carrying this same armload back to the store to exchange it."

Her comment brought a general chuckle from all those within earshot, including my seat mate. As the laughter subsided, he began in a quiet, melodious voice, deepened with experience, to teach me a lesson that I have never forgotten:

"Hear now the parable of the shopper," he said, speaking gently and indicating my packages. "A woman went forth to shop, and as she shopped, she carefully planned. Each child's desires were considered. The hard-earned money was divided, and the many purchases were made with the pure joy and delight that is known only to the giver. Then the gifts were wrapped and placed lovingly under the tree. In eager anticipation she scanned each face as the gifts were opened."

"'What a lovely sweater,' said the eldest daughter, 'but I think I would prefer blue. I suppose I can exchange it?'

"'Thank you for the cassette player, Mother. It's just what I wanted,' said her son. And then aside, secretly to his sister, he continued, 'I told her I wanted the one with the automatic reverse and an extra speaker. I never get what I want!'

"The youngest child spoke out with the spoiled honesty of her age, 'I hate rag dolls! I wanted a china doll. I won't play with it!' And the doll, still in the box, was kicked under the couch."

"One gift still lay under the tree. The woman pointed it out to her husband. 'Your gift is still there.'

"'I'll open it when I have the time,' he stated. 'I want to get this bike put together first.'

"How sad it is," continued his soft, beautiful voice. "When gifts are not received in the same spirit they are given. To reject a thoughtful gift is to reject the loving sentiment of the giver himself. And yet, are we not all sometimes guilty of rejecting?"

He was talking not only to me, but to all of those on the bus. They had all gathered around. The bus was parked.

He took a present from my stack.

"This one," he said, holding it up and pretending to open the card, "could be to you." He pointed to a rough-looking, teenage boy in a worn denim jacket and pretended to read the gift card. "To you I give My life, lived perfectly, as an example so that you might see the pattern and live worthy to return and live with Me again. Merry Christmas from the Messiah."

"This one," he said, holding up a pure, white present, "is for you." He held out the gift to a worn-looking woman, who in earlier years must have been a real beauty. She read the card out loud and allowed her tears to slip without shame down her painted face. "My gift to you is repentance. This Christmas I wish you to know for certain that though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be white as snow. Signed, your Advocate with the Father."

"That isn't all. No, here is a big, red package." he looked around the group and brought a ragged, unkempt, little child forward. "This package would be for you if He were here. The card would say, 'On this Christmas and always, My gift to you is love. From your brother, Jesus.'"

"One final gift," said my seat mate. "The greatest of all the gifts of God--Eternal life!"

He held our minds and our hearts. We were a hungry audience. Though our shopping had left us drained, now we were being filled by his words.

"How we receive these gifts, these precious gifts from the Babe of Bethlehem, is the telling point. Are we exchangers?" he asked. "Is there really anything else we would rather have? It is what we do with a gift long after we have opened it that shows our true appreciation."

With those words he was gone. That was fifteen years ago, only a wink in time. But not even an eternity could erase the sermon, or the man.

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

Of swords and melodramas and dark places in the night...

Awakened by a dream. One word in a dream. Like someone snapping their fingers rousing me from a hypnotic trance...I am wide awake at 2:30 in the morning. Upon rising I find that all is not in order. Someone is not in their place. A mother's worst fear compounded by the fact that this mother is now to be a grandmother and it seems that all senses are heightened in a way unexplainable.

No one tells you it will be like this. That all the love you have for your own children will be magnified in the next generation of those born of your blood.

And no one tells you that this love must dwell in some horrible gray area known only to grandparents.We have no power. Like we ever had any before. We have no say so. We have no control. And we are counseled to keep our mouths closed. To let ours raise their own.

The thought tumbling around in the outer reaches of my mind is that all of the lessons I have come through in the past few years, the ones stripping me of all control, were wrought in preparation for this very specific time in my life. The time when I will truly have no control. When all I will be able to do is stand quietly, waiting to be called into action when needed...and pray.

As I lay me down to sleep, my heartbeat calmed somewhat by a few brief,quiet words...for it seems the molding and shaping has replaced much of my volume with more peaceful tones...my thoughts are not those of "what if", but of praise...scripture strung together and set to a tune sung by a long forgotten voice from my teenage years...

"LORD, our Lord,how majestic is your name in all the earth...Our Lord, we praise your name, Our Lord, we magnify your name, Prince of Peace, mighty God our lord God almighty"

And then prayers sent forth asking our Heavenly Father that I be of use. That I be useful... to HIM.

On the one hand I rejoice that in the dark places, forged by the enemy on a cold winter's night, MY spirit instinctively cries out to the spirit of my Father. On the other, my flesh is once again angry at what little control I have over my own life.

My only TRUE control in the past has been the volume of my voice, or the panic of my heart, or the "what if" centered melodrama playing in my head like a flickering piece of old film at it's tamest or a technicolor masterpiece in it's full glory. And..my flesh finds it hard to put these old friends to rest.

But the spirit of the Lord reminds me that it is okay, proper, preferable even, to put away the "Peter's sword" of my youth...the sword drawn in haste and in panic...and dress myself in a mantle of peace stitched by my Father's own hand and blessed by the blood of his son.

I pray that in the future, when I am once again set in that place of "no control", I will remember to draw this mantle over myself as a child does with a blanket, that it become the tent of meeting for my father and I... and that in this tent I find rest.