Easter Ponderings

For me, Easter should 'feel' like spring.  Bright sunshine, warm breezes, clear blue sky, green grass, birds singing, butterflies, pastel dresses, pretty open toed shoes, hats, and egg hunts.  Not this year, or many years where I live, as the day dawned with a lack of sunshine, gray skies, snow covering potential green grass, cold breeze, snow showers, winter coats, definite lack of butterflies.  It just did not 'feel' like Easter as a snow shower rained down on us.

My thoughts turned to the very first Easter.  No matter the weather of the day, bright sunshine or overcast skies; warm temperatures or cold breezes, likely Jesus' mother, would have only noticed the cold, dark emotional upheaval and grief.  She and others that loved him  have just been through the most emotional filled turmoil few days of their lives.  The week began on a high of Palm Sunday with Jesus being celebrated as he entered Jerusalem.  Songs, palm leaves, celebrity status.  The week ended in the worst possible way as the people turned on Jesus, ultimately crucifying him on in a gruesome manner on the cross.

Mary, Jesus' mother, has always intrigued me.  I am awed by her faith, complete obedience to God, and acceptance to her situation.  Very contrary to my personal tendency to question everything and do things my way.  But Mary, she had special intimacy with the most Holy, most High God as she carried His only son in her womb.  When the Angel told her she would conceive this baby miraculously, she accepted it with these words of Luke 1:38 “I am the Lord’s servant,” Mary answered. “May your word to me be fulfilled.” 

Beyond her complete acceptance and obedience, Mary was the mother of this baby, rearing him into adulthood.  I am of a mother of two,I have my experiences of babies and children of my own and a few others. Somehow, I don't think any of these children are anything like baby Jesus. I wonder what it was like to raise the Lord Jesus.  He was fully human and fully God, perplexing for a simple minded soul like myself.  Surely as a baby, he cried when hungry, wet diaper, cold, uncomfortable, or just wanting to be held. Most certainly he 'fell down and went boom', bruised, cut, hurt.  Scripture speaks of siblings.  What of sibling rivalries?  Or of teenage attitudes?  Did Jesus need to be reminded to watch his tone?  Be kind to his siblings?  Eat his vegetables?  Do his chores?  Did little Jesus ever require a spanking or discipline of any type?  I believe raising Jesus was a completely different experience than raising her other children as Jesus never sinned... never.

Can you imagine looking into your child's eyes to realize he looks directly into your soul, knowing you better than yourself?  How does one respond to a child that knew scripture better than the most learned teachers of the time?  How could he be comforted,  the one who can heal completely any physical or spiritual wound?  Yet, Mary had this honor, privilege, and even challenge.

Mary was there, the first Palm Sunday through Easter.  How her mother's heart must have been beyond comfort.  She may have cried until only dry tears flowed.  Her heart ached and broke as she watched all the horrible proceedings.  The scourging as Jesus was beat beyond recognition, the crown of thorns, the jeering, the tortuous walk carrying his cross, the nails, the crucifixion, his death. She may have been unable to look yet unable to not look.  Unable to stay away, desiring to comfort her boy, seeking out His eyes to likely to find them strangely calm and deeply sad, trying to understand those things she 'pondered in her heart' as she raised him. Attempting to make sense of it all.

The time between His death and resurrection would have been bleak and grief riddled.  Even if the sun was shining would she have noticed, as her personal world was dark with little hope?  This miraculous baby she conceived and raised to a man now dead, how does He now save the world?  How does God die?  She perhaps went through her own personal faith crisis.  I would, I know I would have a faith crisis.  In desperation, I would visit his grave, perhaps only to leave by coercion.  That first Easter morning would have felt cold, dark, bleak much like my Easter morning this year.

This Easter of 2013, the clouds cleared away, the sun shone bright, the birds began to sing.  Perhaps much like how the word spread that Jesus is alive, death did not hold him, the tomb is empty.  The day brightened, the dark clouds of despair cleared, the day brightened as hope renewed.  Jesus is alive!

A few desires

A few things I hope as I age:

• I get to grow old
  Too many in my life have not had the privilege to see old age.
  
• I age but not act old
  I do not have the option in aging, becoming older.  I can choose to behave and think young.  I can choose to continually try new things, attempt to listen to the current music, keep up with current media rather than insisting in what I consider the best way - the 'old' way.
  
• I always know how to laugh
  May I never forget to see the humor in life and laugh heartily.
  
• I will always have a hand to hold
  I hope it is my husband's hand, holding his hand is a treasure.  I feel secure, loved, special holding his hand.  Yet I also hope to have the hand of a loved one to hold, a small child, one of my daughters, a dear one.
  
• I practice contentment
  This may be the greatest challenge in my hopes and desires.  To be content in all things:  where I live, how I feel, with the situation that life has for me at any time.
  
• I embrace each new generation & their style
  I want to connect with the the younger generation, realize they will not want to do it my preferred way.  Be able to share and communicate with them to hopefully have friends to keep me young and maybe, just maybe share a little of my life's lessons.
  
• Good health for my body & mind
  Yes please!  I am a wimp with illness and pain.  The thought of my mind betraying me is frightening.  I want to be able to live with a quality of life to continue to contribute.  I want to be able to always continue to learn and love.
  
• Friendships old and new
  I enjoy my many friends today.  Some are older, some are younger, others are my peers.  I realize that one day, I may not have any older friends, this makes me very sad.  Yet I hope to always have friends of all ages.
  
• Never, ever stop learning.
  There is so much to learn.  Academics and life lessons.  But mostly there is so much to learn of God - -I pray I never lose the desire to know more of Him, who He is, how vast and awesome He is.
  
• AND I really hope to keep up with technology
  Technology can be a blessing and a curse.  Yet I want to be able to keep up with computers, TVs, media, ipods, ipads, cars, etc.  I hope that I am never so flustered by it that I give up trying.

Who is God to You Today?

A few weeks ago I attended a conference.  Fern Nichols of Mom's In Prayer International was the featured speaker.  My recollection and impression of a particular message may not be exactly verbatim but I will try to summarize what I took away and applied to my life.  

When you pray and declare to God a character trait such as God, the Healer, be ready for the test.  Once you tell God that He is something in your life, He may and most likely will test you.  

Indeed!  Immediately during the weekend this was proven to be true.  During one of the sessions we corporately praised God and exclaimed how He is Jehovah-Rapha (The Lord you're Healer, Exod 15:26).  The following morning, I awoke to check the time, rolling over to the pain of a headache that was the type to turn into a incapacitating migraine.  I prayed immediately, again extolling God as my Jehovah-Rapha.  I left my healing to Him.  I prayed that I knew He was capable and even willing to heal me immediately, but I would be content to stay in bed at this great retreat if that is what would bring Glory to Him.  I dozed again for a few minutes and awoke to a pain free head!  God had tested me, heard my prayer, and healed me instantly.  

I thought, "Wow, I passed the test.  A+, pat on the back, yeah God."  My faith grew abundantly in that moment.  I celebrated my small victory and went about my life.  Now, four weeks later, I am going about my business as usual which includes being a wife, mom, homemaker, friend, and ladies bible study student.  I diligently worked on my homework a day before the next meeting.  I pondered the following from Genesis 16:13:

El Roi - the God who sees: He sees me when no else cares to looks. He sees through the smile we wear when we're dying inside. He sees our hurt when we're mistreated. He sees us when we cry into our pillow because we feel unloved. He see beyond our sin into the depth of our need. He sees when we're hiding. Running. He sees when we continue to sow the seed of His Word even in the floodplain of our grief. - - Beth Moore

Did I declare and praise God as El Roi?  Not in the manner of praying on my knees, hand raised type of declaration.  But the phrase impacted me so deeply, I posted it as a Facebook status.  My mind returned to El Roi, the God who sees me.  I thought about Hagar, the hand maiden of Sarai who gave Abram a son and then banished with her infant.  She met God and declared Him El Roi.  So yes, I did declare God El Roi in my life.  I should have known to be ready for the test.  I forgot that bit of detail in my ever learning walk with God.




The test has not been easy.  It impacted more than myself.   My entire family has gone through pain this past week.  We have been hurt, confused, frustrated, and even angry.  We have felt mistreated, smiled while hurting, felt unloved, and tears have flowed down our faces.  

Is God El Roi?  The God who sees me in the floodplain of my grief?  I have pondered this over and over as I worked through my emotions.  And you know what?  God met me.  My pain is still real, my hurt is deep.  Unfortunately, my anger has not completely abated.  But God has met me.  He is the one who gently reminded me that He is El Roi - the God who sees.  I have not been alone.  He has soothed my wound as the pain ached my heart, He has reminded me the mercy He has extended me when my anger has overflowed, He has provided me human shoulders to cry upon.  He has been the God who sees, the God who has seen my pain, the God that has not turned away from my human mess of emotions.

This has not been easy. My faith journey has impacted my family and given opportunity for all of us to learn.  Learn that God is El Roi - the God who sees; to learn forgiveness, to learn mercy, to learn that God is God.

Who is God to you today?  

Family is Family

For several days I have wallowed in a myriad of thoughts and emotions.    Many times I set out to write something.  I have come up empty.  I could not write a Facebook status or a prayer request to our church's prayer chain.  My heart aches.  It has a heaviness that profound sadness produces.  This ache is borne of empathy, deep empathy for my cousin.

I have been side blinded by the depth of feeling.  It has left me speechless.  If you know me the least bit, you would realize that this is a rare occurrence. 

I discovered in this process, that family, however remote or unknown, is family.    I have  cousins on the west coast.  I have met all of them during my childhood, but have not met all the spouses nor children.    I have not seen any of them for many years, more than 20 years have passed.  We have all grown up, married, are raising families.    The miles continue to separate us.

This week, one of these families, has suffered a devastating loss.  The death of their oldest son, just 25 years old.  I did not have the opportunity to meet this young man.  I have not had the opportunity to meet his siblings or his father.  I don't even recall the last time I met his mother, my cousin.  Of this family of cousins, she is the least known to me.   Regardless, my heart is broken for this family who is grieving. 

I grieve with them many, many miles away.  I grieve the loss of life.  I am a parent which has given me perspective and empathy for a grieving parent.  It is not  right for a parent to bury their child.  The tears flow freely, the prayers are earnest, the virtual hug is extended, love is sent.  I have grieved and had empathy for several who are not family.  But the depth of emotion was not as deep.  It must be because family is family.   It connects us, bonds us, knits us together.  RIP dear 2nd cousin who has left this world much to early in life.  I hope to meet you in Heaven one day.

The King, The Gift, Her Heart

She was given a gift, a precious gift from her King.  Strong yet not unbreakable, beautiful and perfect yet easily marred, valuable yet meant to be shared, personal and unique.  The King told her it was precious, created just for her.  She is to keep is safe.  No one can take it from her unless she gives it to them, either the entire gift or pieces of it.  The King instructed her to be wise in sharing her gift yet not hoard it selfishly.  He told her he would be willing to help her but she would need to serve him forever.  She declined, wanting to be free.  He loved her so much, he let her go.

She took her precious gift, named it her heart.  She kept it with her at all times, safe in her bosom.  Initially, she shared it with everyone, so proud of her perfect, precious gift.  Others shared their hearts with her, she noticed that they were not perfect like hers, they were marred, chipped, cracked, glued, and patched.  Her heart was a thing of beauty in its perfection.

As time went by, someone scratched her heart with harsh words, another deeper gash developed by disappointment of not making the team of her beloved sport.  When her grandmother died, her heart developed a hole.  A dear friend moved away leaving another smaller hole.  Another friend told lies about her causing a crack.  She began to guard her heart, being more wary of showing it to everyone she met.  She started to become more discerning to whom she showed her heart.

Over time more cracks, chips, and holes developed.  These were filled with other precious gems such as a lady she adopted as a grandmother who gave her a beautiful ruby to fill the hole her own grandmother's death had left in her heart.  The cracks were smoothed over, the chips filled in with other bits and pieces.  Her heart was no longer perfect but still beautiful in its own unique way.  She began to realize her heart was much like the other less than perfect hearts she has been showed throughout her journey. 

As time went on she noticed her heart changed colors as she loved and care for others.  The deeper the love the more it glowed, but also the more fragile it became when loving so deeply.  She shared her glowing heart with those she loved, showing them how it shimmered when near them.  Each special person made it glow and shimmer in a unique way.  Sometimes its weight would change as well. 

One day, when it was glowing and shimmering with love and admiration, another came along and carelessly shoved her heart.  It went soaring through the air.  She ran trying to catch it, losing sight of it in the blinding light of searing pain, but onward she ran trying to catch it, buffer it's fall somehow.  But in the blinding light it was lost and it her heart fell on the hard pavement, shattering into a million tiny pieces.  She fell to her knees, how disappointed the King would be in her if he knew how she allowed someone to destroy her gift.

She made dark curtains and built solid walls around the shattered pieces to ensure she could gather them all before others could scatter them.  In tears and in the near dark she gathered the tiny pieces.  The edges sharp, cutting her fingers, the beauty gone.  She declared no one would see her heart again, if she ever could get it back together. 

Piece by piece, bit by bit, she fit the pieces together.  She sought out glue of comfort, peace, but some pieces would not stay together when combined with bitterness.  She had to find forgiveness, she had to extend grace.  She learned these helped smooth out the edges, create a better fit, form a good bind.  Her heart remained so fragile in the dark, it would not glow, it would not shine.  Eventually, she learned she had to let the light in, be brave to share her gift again to restore her heart, her forever damaged heart.

Slowly, with trepidation, shaking, she took out a piece of wall.  Just lowering it a bit.  She exchanged the dark curtains for lighter curtains.  She saw her heart begin to flicker.  Trembling, she dared to remove one wall and exchange a heavy curtain for shear drapes.  Oh her heart began to glow.  It took time, lots of time for the walls to be removed, exchanged for a hedge with a gate.  Eventually all the heavy curtains were exchanged for shear drapes.  A panel or two of drapes were completely removed.  Her heart pulsed with colors, glowing brightly through the cracks, the holes, the chips, the patches.  She discovered her heart was more beautiful than ever.

Cautiously, with shame for her imperfect gift, she returned to the King.  Afraid he would be displeased with her care of the heart, trembling and tearful, she showed it to him.  The king, dried her tears, hugged her close, and soothed her with kind words.  He took her heart, told her that if she would allow him to keep it, he would be able to fix the unfixable parts, and help her protect it.  What a revelation!  Gladly she lifted the burden of her heart and placed them in the King's hands.  He gently took it, he examined it closely, he located the parts that she had been unable to fix.    In his workshop, he carefully restored the brokenness, removed the heavy pieces yet left the imperfections.  Then he returned her lighter heart to her.  Instructed her to look to him for protection.  Promising to be with her if she would trust him and serve him.  As she declared her allegiance to do so, her heart lost all remaining heaviness and shimmered more beautifully than ever dreamed.  She mourned the years she did not trust the King but determined to remain in his presence for eternity.  For there is nothing better than the safety of the King.

County Fair Judging - try not to melt

Since, I am on a roll, three blog posts in three days.  How about number four?  I am not certain I can maintain this pace but willing to roll with it while it lasts.

It is hot, yet the temperature is not extreme.  High 80s, low 90s is not extreme temperatures in my book.  But the humidity is high, making it miserable.  The summer season in Minnesota is short so I try, really I do try, to make the best of it.  I prefer short, t-shirts, sandals, no jacket to long underwear, three additional layers, parka, boots, hat, mittens, scarf, and pocket warmers.  It is much easier to dash out with out 20 pounds of clothing.  But the humidity ... I could do with a bit less, please.

Summer, County Fair time in this place where I live.  I have found a new role as a 4-H project judge.  This means I *get* to sit in steel, airless buildings for 7-8 hours oohing and aahing over a child's project, asking questions, encouraging him/her, and rewarding him/her with ribbons.

This year I am judging Cloverbud projects.  These are the Kindergarten through 3rd graders.  Each child gets a participation ribbon at this age.  Most are so excited to be there and enter their item in the fair.  You can see the thrill in their faces as they tell me how they colored, painted, glued their masterpiece.  The pride displayed as they tell me about their favorite animal including all the interesting facts.  Some are shy requiring gentle persuasion to talk to me, others are simply so cute I would give them a ribbon for just talking to me, no project required.  Picture pig tailed, sweet smiling little girls and energetic, freshly bathed little boys. Is this not the best job in the world?  Mind you I am melting in the humidity, sure that my hair is frizzy as parents take our picture to commemorate the experience.

It is all about the experience for the child.  I get an experience too and learn a few new things in the process.  Such as, spiders have 8 eyes as well as 8 legs, pumpkin bread made from scratch is tastier than from a box, grandmas are really good at threading sewing machines, big brothers are extremely helpful in building rockets, Lego creations are fun to build, elementary art teachers are awesome, and tree kangaroos live in the rain forest and look really cuddly.

So today I make way to my third fair this summer.  I can hardly wait to try the delicious treats made, see the beautiful pictures colored, learn about another exotic animal, and learn how to care for a pet fish.  I am hoping to melt off a few pounds in the humidity - - I may be lucky as it is raining today. Who knows, maybe I'll require a second layer. Then again, probably not, this is the county fair, it would break tradition.