Dear Jesus

Today was Carson's first birthday party.  I am constantly amazed at the gift you have given me and my family in Carson.  He is a beautiful, healthy little boy, and he seems to accomplish new things every day.  I'm proud to be his aunt.

It was so good to be with family and friends today, to celebrate the first year of Carson's life, to have a house full of people dedicated to watching him toddle around the yard and throw a ball.  It was simultaneously adorable and sad to watch him get frustrated and cry just as it was time to open his gifts.  And I almost died of cuteness overload, watching him eat the little cake I baked just for him, wearing nothing but his diaper.  It was such a treat, getting to be the official baker of his very first birthday cake!

But today was a hard day, too.  It's hard to say this, because today should have been filled with joy.  It was a hard day because I was reminded over and over of the dysfunction in my family, and especially in my relationship with my mom.  

Lord, you know how things normally operate: that I am the "fixer."  You also know how I've been struggling to get out of this role, to let the people in my family deal with problems in a healthy way instead of making excuses for them.  You have told me that it is more important to be the truth bringer than the peacemaker.  But this is hard.

Things haven't been right with mom for a long time, but I've never understood until now just how wrong things are.  I felt like I was hurting her, Jesus, even though I didn't do anything wrong.  Why?  Was it because I didn't spend my entire time making sure that she felt comfortable and included, like I normally do?  Or was it because she knows that things are wrong and doesn't know how to make them right? 

I have tried to make her understand that her choices have hurt me deeply, but I feel like she doesn't want to acknowledge the impact she has had on my life.  The people she brought into our home, the lack of support, the constant attitude of victimization, the lack of faith in our home, are all things that I have been trying to overcome.  Although I feel like I've made good progress, just being in the same room as her and seeing her awkwardness and her aloneness, and the constant accusation in her eyes make me feel like I haven't moved forward even a centimeter.

And when I read the beautiful, moving tributes that other moms write to their children, I begin to feel bitter.  I begin to want to accuse her, for not providing the home grounded in faith that I needed.  For bringing unsafe people into our home.  For not believing me.  For not caring about what happened.  For housing the very person who hurt me.  For trying to make me hate my father.  For teaching me how to be a victim rather than how to be a survivor.  For not being the kind of mom that I needed.  

I am so raw inside right now, Jesus.  My heart feels like it's been thrown out of a moving vehicle and is covered with emotional road rash.  I need healing for what has happened, and for what continues to happen in my mom's response to me.  I need hope for the road ahead, that You will continue the work you've begun in my family.  

Help me to remember the good things that You have done, so that I'm not overwhelmed by the bad.  Help me to claim Your promise that all things work together for the good of those who love You and are called according to Your purpose.  Help me to understand what it means when You say that no eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has conceived the good things You have prepared for those who love You.

I am waiting in Your promises, Lord.  I am trusting that You will show me how to act, how to love, how to forgive.  I am choosing to believe You when You tell me that Your eyes will be on me when my hope is in Your unfailing love.  

The beam in my eye

I'm feeling a touch convicted right now. You see, I've been indulging in a bit of anger, and while it may have been justified for a short time, I've been wallowing in it. And during the time I've spent rolling around in the squishy mud of my anger, God has spoken.

Let me explain: I have a saddle. Technically, the saddle does not belong to me, it belongs to my mother. However, over the summer I started riding again. Since my mother wasn't using the saddle (it had fallen into sad disrepair after the tack room was the unfortunate victim of a fallen oak tree during a massive storm), she let me take it to see if I could fix it up and make it usable. After considerable expense and effort, I had restored the saddle to riding condition. It took a lot of work: seemingly unceasing cleaning, oiling, buffing, etc. In addition, I had to purchase a new latigo and cinch for the saddle because the cinch was missing and the existing latigo was rotten.

Fast forward seven months: I receive a text message from my mom that she wants her saddle back. Why? I am unsure. She doesn't ride anymore, and at this point I felt that the saddle had become my property. I felt especially strong on this point because had I not taken possession of the saddle and fixed it up, by this time it probably would have been beyond repair. I was mad. Really mad. So I didn't respond to the text.

The source of contention

A couple of days ago I received another text message, from my mom's friend, wanting to know if I have the saddle, because my mother offered it to her for a trail ride, and could I please drop it off at her house? This only made me madder: not only did my mom want to reclaim the saddle I had worked so hard on, but now that I had made it usable, she was offering its use to other people without considering my feelings. This made me very, very ANGRY.

Tonight, while thinking about the saddle (doing a bit more wallowing), I got to thinking: does God ever feel the same way about us? How often do we ask Him to fix us up, thinking we're not fit for anything, only to try and use lives for our own means now that He has made us useful? I know that I have done this time and again, although I'm so dull-headed and slow to listen to the Holy Spirit that I often don't realize that I've done this until it's too late.

The Lord has every right to resent me for this, but still He chooses to love me. Still, He patiently asks me when I will be finished running headlong down the tumultuous path I've chosen for myself and instead allow Him to guide my steps. I am amazed once more at the mercy of this Savior, who bears with my faults and calmly points out the contradictions in my carefully crafted arguments, making me realize that I have not yet learned the true meaning of grace.

So while I might be justified in calling the saddle my own, I'm going to try and take a step back. I'm going to try and practice a bit of the patience and grace that God has shown me. I'm going to do some work on that beam in my own eye, and trust my Father in heaven to take care of the rest.

Stronger than you know...

Sometimes I feel so weak and small, like I could never accomplish anything big, anything of value. But then God surprises me and shows me that through Him, I can do great things. He shows me that in Him, I am stronger than I could ever imagine. Case in point: yesterday's hike.

I decided to boycott the Superbowl and spend the day outside, worshiping God and checking out some of the hikes in the Irish Hills area behind my house. I began at the Bog Thistle Nature Trail and wound up the hill. The trail was narrow and times, and very steep. There were rocks in the way that threatened to keep me from climbing the hill. With my trusty worship tunes cranked up, and a prayer in my heart, I somehow managed to make it to the top of the trail. When I checked my watch, I realized that I had only been hiking for fifteen minutes.

Dissatisfied with the shortness of the hike, I pressed on and began to ascend the Mariposa Trail, which I had previously avoided because it looked so steep and long. Although I was almost run over by some mountain bikers at a couple of points, I made it up the hill. Along the way I saw some beautiful sights, including the view from Durata Vista and Morro View Trail. God's creation is incomparable.

From Durata Vista you can see from Cerro San Luis to Morro Bay.

In total, I wound up hiking nearly five miles, up some steep terrain, with no one to push me or encourage me. No one, that is, except for Jesus, who was encouraging me at every step. Each time I wanted to turn around and go back down the hill, the Holy Spirit gave me renewed energy, both in mind and body, pushing me to go farther than I thought I could. As a woman who weighs over 250 lbs. and has questionable aerobic abilities, this accomplishment seemed nearly impossible. But in God's strength it was accomplished.

My hike is in black: I took Bog Thistle Trail - Mariposa Trail - Morro View Trail, with a short detour to Durata Vista.

There are other areas, too, where the Lord has been proving that His strength prevails when my own runs out. He has been restoring my spiritual relationship with my sister in a way that has been amazing to see. She has now been coming to church with me for over a month, and her faith is growing exponentially. She has been sharing the God's goodness with her friends, fellow cheerleaders, and roommates.

I've been asking God for something like this to happen for years. But for years, I've been trying to "make" my sister want a relationship with God on my terms, rather than allowing Him to reach my sister on His terms. And when I finally decided to let go and trust God, He brought Becky back to Him. So you see: In God's strength, amazing things can be accomplished. It's when I rely too much on my own strength that I stumble and fall. I've got to work on letting Jesus be my strength more often.

What the future holds

One of my friends used to have a sticker on her binder that said, "I know not what the future holds, but I know who holds the future." What a wonderful sentiment. Such certainty, such peace in those few words. But I've been thinking a lot about the future lately, and the assurance captured in that simple statement suddenly seems so elusive.

I'm due to graduate with my master's degree in a number of months (provided, of course, that I finish my thesis). Thoughts on what I will actually DO with my life once I've graduated have been ever-present, and I keep wondering what will happen. Will I get a job? Will I meet someone and get married? Will I go back home or move away? And most of all, will I be able to make it on my own?

It seems as if I've been in school so long now that I only know how to operate within the unique rhythm of academia. The rush to get things prepared for the beginning of the semester, the endless deadlines, the sweet relief once a semester has ended, and the insane drive toward self-torture that makes you want to start it all over again. I keep wondering about what will happen if I can't find a job teaching. Will I be happy outside of school? Will I be challenged?

I know that, as a Christian, I'm told that I shouldn't "worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself." However, as Paul once said, "the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak." I find myself constantly daydreaming/worrying about what will happen once I leave this chapter of my life. Looking back, it's been a time filled with so much growth, happiness and pain, so much richness that I become absolutely terrified that nothing will ever compare to these times.

But perhaps therein lies the answer. Perhaps the point is to enjoy each moment, savor it and feel it to the fullest extent, so that when that inevitable time comes when I find myself in a new chapter, I won't have to wonder what would have happened had I really, truly lived.


Perhaps the future will hold even more amazing things, like another European excursion!