Momma Bear

We’ve all been there.   Emotions high, temper raging, the adrenaline pumping, and it takes everything in us not to explode in word – or even action when someone we love has been hurt.  Once someone we love has been the target of unkind words, gossip, taunting or even cruel teasing, we begin to imagine the things we could say or do (legal and otherwise) to those responsible.  As we witness the shattering agony of what has been done to them we want to react.  And when it is a child of ours who has been in the line of fire – the Momma Bear comes out, ready to protect, ready to fight, ready to take down the offender.


When one of my children was in middle school, she had a falling out with her best friend that got ugly – very ugly.  I was enraged by the pain that was inflicted on my daughter by this girl.  This girl, this child, who had been in our home, who had been loved by our family, how could she turn on my daughter?  It took all of my strength and perhaps some divine strength as well, not to drive to her home and rip her face off– er I mean, not to confront her. I was livid by her cruelty and I wanted my daughter as far away from her as possible.  But by the end of the school year, she and my daughter had made up.  They were friends again – maybe not the best friends they once were, but friends none the less.  Me?  Not so much.  It was years before I could look at her and not be struck by the Momma Bear emotions in me.  It wasn’t my pain that caused me to be slow in my forgiveness – it was the hurt she wreaked upon my child that I struggled to forgive. 


Shanda from A Pause on the Path, writes in her blog post  Why Love Hurts

He loved so much that He sent his only Son to earth. We rejected, tortured and killed Him. How God’s parent heart had to be tearing apart: slowly tortured with every physical stab that touched His Son. How did God withstand that pain? How could He hold back His protective power to let us do that to His loved one?

I was struck by this – God’s parent heart.  As I read that post, my mind jumped back in time to that event.  That season in my life where I labored to forgive someone, not because of what they had done to me, but because of what they had done to my child.  And I was reminded of how profound God's love is -of how He has not only forgiven us for the pain we have committed against Him – but He has also willingly, unselfishly, and instantaneously, forgiven us for the sins we committed against His son – His child.  And He did it by His own expense, by His own suffering, by His own choice to love us.

– What amazing love.

Lessons from Halloween

This week's prompt we were asked go back to a memorable Halloween costume, to show it and draw our reader's into our emotions and memories in 400 words - enjoy!

Just shy of her second birthday, thick chocolate hair fell to her shoulders and framed her deep, sapphire blue, slightly too large for her face, eyes.  Although Halloween was a foreign idea to her, it never occurred to her to question my wisdom as I stuffed her little legs and arms into what she must have thought were pajamas.  Only, these weren't pajamas - because pajamas don't have a long stiff tail protruding out of its bottom that swayed as she walked.  And while green pajamas may have fluorescent pink dots on them, they didn't come with spiked hoods that left only her sparkling eyes, rosy checks and sweet lips exposed.

She looked at me curiously as I explained.  "You and your sisters will go to the door and ring the bell."  I adjusted her costume and handed her her bag.  "Then, when they open the door, you say 'Trick or treat' and they will give you candy."  She tilted her head to the side, frowning slightly.  I smiled.  "Go with your sisters, they'll show you."
We waited at the end of the walkway as Little Bo Peep, a pirate, Dorothy, Jasmine and a butterfly ran up the sidewalk.  They rang the bell, yelled "Trick or Treat," and joyfully accepted the candy.  They ran back down to meet us before she got halfway up the walk.  "Wait," I said sternly to the excited children.  "Wait for your sister."  We turned to wait and watched as she waddled the rest of the way to the door.  She stopped and stood on the porch, saying nothing, but just standing, wagging her dinosaur tail, and starring at the elderly woman with her piercing blue eyes.

"Oh my!" The woman exclaimed.  "How adorable are you!"  She grabbed a generous heaping of candy - noticeably more than she gave to the others, and dropped it into her bag.  And still she stood there - not smiling, not talking, not moving.  She just stood there waving her green tail with the hot pink polka dots and looking at her with her big blue eyes.  The woman exclaimed again, reached back into her bag of candy and gave her more.  I hurried to the door, reminded her to say thank you, and slightly embarrassed, rushed her down the walk.  She looked back at the woman and even at two I could see dangerous thoughts connecting in her mind. 

I knew then and there, raising this beauty would take quite a watchful eye. Linking up today with

 

Failing Words

I think in pictures - and sometimes the image in my mind is so clear and powerful that I want to share it - tell others about the encouragement, comfort, and strength it gives to me, but as hard as I try, I cannot adequately translate the pictures I am seeing in my mind into mere words.  Words only seem to cause the images to fall flat.  They do not do justice to the beauty and power that plays in my head. 

Tonight, there is a beautiful scene occupying my mind.  It came into sharp focus as I was praying with our India Thailand Missions Team.  The image is full of light and shadows, darkness and revelation.  There is joy and dancing in the path of a bright shimmering light that is moving along the road of a city.  There are people all around.  Some are hiding in the black recesses, outside of edges of the light - watching, wondering, curious as the light travels the road - moving forward, always just a step ahead of those walking in its illumination.  And there are people walking in the light, following its leading, its clear direction.  They walk with confidence, not knowing where the light is going, but confident it has gone this way before, confident that it is their purpose to follow, confident that they are exactly where they need to be.

But there they are again - the flat, dull, lifeless words that refuse to capture the splendor in my thoughts.  The words that pale in comparison to the image I can see.  An image that tells me God knows - has always known what lies ahead.  That even though I do not see, do not know, and cannot comprehend what He is going to do - He does.  It is my response to move forward, to trust and to know, experientially know that he goes before me, with me, and that I do not walk alone.
I know I do not walk alone because in the image I see, I can see others.  Others who are waiting along the path.  Waiting for people to arrive that will bring them comfort, hope, encouragement and healing.  Several wait in the shadows, in the darkness, afraid of what the light will reveal.  But they are there.  Watching, pondering, questioning, hoping to somehow be pulled into the light. They long to be in the light - but do not know how.
Some walk with along the road with their eyes closed - or downcast.  So consumed by their position on the path, so consumed by what others might be doing, that they fail to see the beauty, the opportunity, the blessings around them.  Yet some walk with their eyes open to what God is revealing along the journey - mindful of the One who always moves slightly ahead.

Prayer is a powerful tool.  It is an invitation we have to step outside of ourselves and join with the Creator of our souls in His work, in His passions, in His ministry.  As He leads, I long to follow.  He goes before me, He goes before us.  Though I may not know the path - or recognize the journey, He is there, lighting the way I need to travel, encouraging me to move forward as He leads, keeping my heart and eyes open to all He has in store.  Even when words fail me - He never does.

Linking up with:

AWOL

Yes, it is true, I have been AWOL, Absent from Writing On Line for many weeks.  I cannot begin to enumerate for you the number of blogs I have started and stopped, except to say that my list of posts is beginning to contain more draft posts than published.




In July, I was off from work and was able to spend additional time reading scripture, praying and writing.  I learned a lot about myself.  I grew and enjoyed the luxury of the extra time to make sense of my thoughts through writing.  But in August - when I returned to work I lost my 'extra' time and was unable to write more than a paragraph or two.  And the writing that did make its way onto the computer screen was disjointed and clumsy.  My thoughts were jumbled.  The metaphors and pictures in my head that explained the emotions in my heart didn't line up and I found myself sitting silently before my keyboard with incomplete contemplations, time and time again.




But in September, I learned something.   A quick observation from my dear friend and blogger Jackie, (Adventures in the Ordinary), seemed to cut right to the heart of why I couldn't write - why I was unable to finish my thoughts.  She reminded me that I write to sort my thoughts.  I write to help me make sense of what I am learning - to place in context what God is doing in my life.  What I write is personal.  It involves my struggles, my pain, my disappointment, my hopes, my hurts.  But what I am living now is other people's pain.




I thought about her words for a long time, and I realize they were truth.  How do I write when what I am learning is born out of other people's struggles?  When my cries out to God are on their behalf, not my own?  When I plead with God to show His grace and mercy not because of my sorrow - but because my heart is broken for someone else's grief?  How do I post my wonderings,  my musings, and my process of their private pain in a pulic place?




For many months it feels like I have been watching hurricane after hurricane tear through the lives of so many I love.  I see the storms.  I see the devastation left behind after the fury has passed- but I cannot change the hurricane's path.  I cannot interject myself and alleviate their pain.  I cannot even help rebuild what has been left wrecked and torn.  While I feel their pain - while I am deeply affected by all that has transpired - I am on the outside.   I am a witness to the storms but  I am not in the direct path of the hurricane.




Writing for the last few weeks has been especially difficult.  The storms have passed - and I pray, have stopped.  But the damage that the winds and the rains have caused is overwhelming.  Debris is strewn across the landscape and I am powerless to pick any of it up. It was not my heart that was shattered - but my heart is broken for them.  And all I can do is pray.  Pray that the God who loves each and every one of them with more passion and selflessness than I will be faithful to restore all that was wrecked in the storms. Pray that He will redeem what was lost and hope that when all is done, they will stand faithful in their call to continue to love Him in return.

Six Word Saturday

Sun Smiles Silliness and Special Friends

Heading out to see friends I have not spent time with in close to 30 years!  So excited to reunite, hangout, laugh, giggle, and catch-up!  Yea for FB and it's magical powers to reconnect!

Blessings to all of you 'six word' Saturday'ers!

Be Perfect?

 

Today's five minute challenge from Lisa Jo over at the Gypsy Mama, is to set our timer and write for five minutes on the word "Whole." We are to publish it as is - so no editing!

Here is my take on the word "Whole"

Go...

Perfection is a word that to me holds a connotation, or rather a feeling, of an unattainable list of expectations that I am to strive towards, and when I miss that mark, if I fail to complete anything on this list, then I have failed to be perfect.

There's a verse in scripture that has always scared me. It is the verse where Jesus tells us to be perfect, as He is perfect - Where He tells me I must conquer an unattainable, and sometimes unknowable list of things that I must do or say or think or feel to be perfect. And that I am required, commanded even to do this. And that verse has always causeds me to feel fear, intimidation, and to feel doomed to complete, utter, failure.

But perfect, in the sense of unattainable, is not the true connotation of that word. The word is really a calling to be complete, as He is complete - to be whole.

To be whole in my mind, in my body, in my spirit, in my emotions, in my love, in my actions, in my soul...to be whole means to be complete. To be complete means to live in health and fullness of life!

Jesus does not call us to an unattainable set of regulations and rules, but to wholeness, to completeness, to health! What a loving thing to desire for me...

This verse no longer scares me, but frees me! Jesus wants me to be whole! I love that about my God, don't you?

Stop...

Take 327

I wish living life were like making a movie. I wish we could read our lines, rehearse what needs to happen- change it up a bit, do it over and over again until it's right and then allow our editor to pick the best parts and let that play out to the world.

But that isn't our life. We do not get to rehearse, or practice, or try out several ways of doing something and then let the director tell us which take to use. We don't have script writers, or make-up artists or lighting crews that always make us look our best. We don't have people feeding us the right words, putting us in the best locations or designing the perfect clothes to represent our personalities.


Life is more raw than that. There are no 'take 2s' or 'take 22's,' there are no do overs. It is what it is.

But that does not make us victims of chance or randomness. We are not helpless fish tossed about by the waves of life. We have choice, and power and opportunity to make the best of what we are given. We have a God who loves us, who died for us and who desires nothing less than to reveal Himself to us.

As we read His word, as we meditate on the scriptures, as we pray, fellowship, worship and commune with Him, He reveals His love, His care, and His presence in our lives. And as we move through the chaos of our world, He shows us how to live. Sometimes we follow Him and sometimes we don't, but whether we do or don't, He is still working with us, revealing Himself to us, walking with us, and giving us the power we need every step of the way.

But as I write these words that I know are true, my heart is aching and I am grieved becasue I know it is not always a simple process.  As I sit in the comfort of my home, scripting out this blog, a very dear and close friend of ours, a mother of 4 children under the age of 10, is fighting stage 3 cancer. Her treatments are wrecking havoc on her body and she cannot be the wife and mother she longs to be.  Her husband was recently laid off and so in addition to fighting her cancer, they must also fight their insurance company, and deal with the ramifications of the loss of both of their incomes. I do not understand this and - I wonder why. I wonder why God in His sovereignty allows all of this to fall on them. I know God can heal. I know God walks with them - but my heart doesn't want this script for them. My heart does not want this difficult road to be their path. I desperately want God to say "Cut, stop, let's change the script." I want this  to be left on the cutting room floor - never to be seen.  But that is not how it works.

Life is not edited for our enjoyment, it is lived for God's glory, and in His glory is His love, His compassion and His presence. I know God has not abandoned this family - or any other family that has a painful journey like theirs - we all know familes who struggle with illnesses, and divorces, and trauma.  But as I watch this family walk this path, even though I know God walks with them, my heart still grieves, my soul still aches and I long to see joy and peace and health restored to them in a miraculous way.

Linking up with The Way I see it Wednesday