parking lot friends

I am thinking about Mary today.  She must have had a different plan in mind for herself, don't you think? I mean, don't you think that right before that angel appeared she might have had a different dream for herself? For Joseph? Because nobody dreams about the unexpected, the hard, the detour, the stepping out into the unknown.  Nobody dreams of embracing fear and losing control and handing everything...I mean everything over to a God you can not even see, and although you love Him and believe in Him...you still...on those really bad days, I am ashamed to say...doubt.

Are you real God, because why... I mean why THIS?

We have all thought that, right?
Please tell me yes, or I will feel badly about myself.

We lost our farmhouse.
It is a long stupid story that involves all sorts of people that need our prayers, but yeah.
We are moving.
Now.
Again.

I can ask why.
I can doubt.
I can cry.
I can think my life is so darn unfair.
And I did.
Just ask the dogs.
They were very concerned about me.

But standing in the church parking lot for an hour with girlfriends who are praying for me...getting texts from across the country from friends who are praying for me...being told "I am on my way up to my room to pray for you right now" from a dear Sister in Christ who I have never met in person...talking about a plan with parents over frozen yogurt who for years have been praying for me...it answers that WHY question, doesn't it?

I mean...prayer...people praying...friends drawing closer to Christ in the hopes that I am drawn closer to Christ...I mean, good grief, how awesome is that?

No one wants to suffer.
But we all do.
Why suffer??
Because suffering always leads to love.
Always.
Because suffering brings people together, makes hearts stronger, puts everything in its proper order.
Don't argue with me on this. Because I am right.

I mean...why Mary?
Why Jesus?

It is the why that brings me to my knees, and puts beads in my hands.
It is the why that leads me to scripture, to His Word, to the truth I need to hear.


I can sit and stew and dwell in the why, or I can thank God for it, love it, and look at the because...

because you will get thought this..
because Mary had her plans changed, and look at what happened to her...she gave birth to GOD...
because Jesus always provides a way out...
because no trial that comes to me is bigger than I can handle...
because I do not have to worry...because He will fight for me...

because I have this amazing band of women friends, faith filled ladies..who do not just SAY they are praying, but actually ARE praying.  And I have my parking lot friends...who for the last two weeks have sat by my side at morning Mass...who have been such a comfort...who have opened my eyes to the blessing they are...and that losing them would be far worse than losing a house...

This move was a blindside and not my plan at all.
But it moved me in more ways that you can ever know...

it moved me to a place of true peace and trust.
It moved me to a deeper love of my friends and family.
It moved me to where I need to be...focused on the others in my life, and not on the things I possess.

I am so blessed.
This farmhouse is cool...no doubt.
But it doesn't move me the way a prayerful husband or girlfriend does.
It doesn't love me the way a woman on her knees praying for me does.

And how did I ever get to this place...to a place where I feel so covered, so protected, so sure of the people that matter in my life?
Why am I so blessed?
Perhaps that is the WHY I should be questioning?

If you do not have a band of faith filled friends, find some.
Then hang out in the parking lot with them.
But pick a well lit parking lot...not a dark creepy one...that is not safe.
Like a church, or a Whole Foods parking lot...and during the daytime.

And if you do not like the change in your life that has blind sighted you, why not embrace it?
Kick and scream and cry first, that is okay and totally normal and acceptable. You can even throw in a bag of chips and salsa and a few glasses of wine...totally cool with that.
But then...stop.
Put the chips down.
Or, if you ate them all, throw the bag away so no one knows what a pathetic mess you are.
And give in to it.
Give in to Him.
Give in to the why.
Picture Mary.
Cry out to her because dang, that woman knows how you feel.
And sister...just trust.
Memorize scripture.
Marinate in His Word.
Why?
Because.

God knows what He is doing.
He is the writer of your story, so just go along with it.
Don't ask why...just lean into the because.

And then...give thanks.

Thank you God for a beautiful year in a beautiful home,  but most of all, for my parking lot friends, who carried me through this mess of a chapter, and who will be by my side, preferably with glasses of wine in hand, poolside, in the pages yet to come. 

later

Kneeled in front of the tabernacle, with cheeks wet from tears, I had choked on the words that I read, that because in that very moment, I did not believe them. "My soul, give thanks to the Lord, all my being, bless his holy name.  My soul, give thanks to the Lord and never forget all his blessings." (Psalm 102: 1-2)  

Thanks.
Blessings.
These do not come easy when you feel like you have been thrown into the middle of an enormous mess, paralyzed by fear of the what the next months will hold.

And God is so funny like this you know, because it was just hours earlier that I sat with a couple of Saints, masked as friends, who shared their own mess and doubts, and it was me that preached and encouraged and cheered them on."God works all things for good", "we knew we would have trials", "we have to hope in HIM", and so on and so forth.

It is not all good.
But it is all grace.
And I believe that with my entire heart.
Until I don't.
Until that final thing snaps, and the storm tosses me about, and I feel like my family is being shaken in a snow globe, and I am waiting until we smash to the floor and shatter once and for all.

I know you are a part in this, Satan.
Do not think you have fooled me for one single second.
You can go now.
You are not welcome in my home, or  near my children, or in my marriage.
We serve the Lord.
Get lost.

I did not get up early to pray this morning.
I could hear the rain on the roof and my littlest one was snuggled close to me.
I know how my steps wake up the puppy and I did not have it in me to be standing in the rain with a dog.
And so I prayed the rosary while in bed.
It was all that I had in me.
But I gave to God as best as I could.
I assured Satan that he did not win, that my praying in bed was not a victory for him.

And then I finally sat with my coffee and prayers, and God showed me this:
"God is glorified in our realization of our dependence on him for everything." (Magnificat)

I fail to remember that when all feels shattered, and when I doubt.  I fail to remember that no matter how bad, I still believe.
I fail to remember that it is not only when I am joyfully speaking or preaching and encouraging that I am glorifying God.
I fail to see that me on my knees, with cheeks wet from tears, shouting at God, "Where are you?" is not a display of my lack of trust, but a testament of how much I do depend on Him in all circumstances.

But it is so hard.

This is when gratitude is essential to survival.  This is when prayer has to be constant if we hope to make it to that next breath.  This is when wisdom and patience must be begged for through the holy name of Jesus Christ.  Because I do not like to wait. Because I fear what is yet to come.  Because sitting still and allowing God to fight for me is one of the most awful things I need to do.

"What I am doing, you do not understand now, but you will understand later." (John 13:7)
Later.
No NOW.
Later.
Who likes to hear that?
Certainly not a child.
And certainly not me.

But God also says this. "Do you realize what I have done for you?" (John 13:12)  And while my immediate response is "Yes, of course, I know! You gave up your only son so I can have eternal life!"...do I really know???  Can I truly understand???  How can I, a privileged white girl who in comparison to the rest of the world truly wants for  nothing...how can I possibly comprehend what he has done for me??"

And I can hear my own voice shouting the same message; to my children, to my community, to my husband. "Do you realize what I have done for you?"

And this stings, in a really good way, because it brings me right back to my knees in a completely shattered dependent mess, and it is here that I come to realize that I glorify God best.
It is here that I let go of me, and turn to HIM.
It is here that I open my tight fists, and hand to Him everything and everyone that matters to me most.
It is here.
Here.
Not later.

Father in heaven, please grant us the wisdom to see your works in our daily lives, to see our suffering as an invitation to grow deeper in love with you, and to give genuine thanks in the "here", as we joyfully await for the promise of "later".

detours

I have been wrestling with this idea of hope.
I have seen how those with hope truly live a life they are meant to live.
Maybe not the life they expected to live, but they live it, fully and beautifully, none the less.
They live it, dare I say, more gracefully and fully than those who think they have everything they ever hoped for.
What we hope for is usually, more often than not, not what we really need.
I think that the only way we find what we hope for is by way of surrender, by way of suffering, by way of letting go of our hope, and being open to the One who is hope.

God has the answers.
He holds our plan.
He writes the story.
He has the answer key.
And this is hard.  This is hard to wrap your mind around, and even harder to accept.
To surrender to the unknown feels, at times, impossible.
Simply put, it is scary.
Like driving in an unfamiliar place with no GPS.
We like to know where we are going.
We like to hold the plan.
We like to  know where and when we will arrive and that somebody will be there waiting for us.
We like to play it safe.

But life is not safe.

In the last few months, I have been...we have been...faced with more challenges than I ever hoped for.
Kids.
Trauma.
Our farm house.
It is as if God has it all in His hands, showing it to me...handing it to me..and as I reach for it, His fingers are spread, and one by one, every hope and every dream, falls into the ground, and disappears.
And I stand in fear, wondering, "Now what? What do we do? Where do we go? How do we help?"

In the book Hope Heals, a story of "second chances" that takes you through the lives of a young married couple, "whose life was supposed to go one way and was instead wrenched into a direction neither one of them could imagine", Jay Wolf says this:

"If hope is only rooted in an outcome, then your expectations will crush you.  This season of unrest began to spark a firestorm of questioning, and we found ourselves redefining many things in every area of our lives.  What was our truest home? What was our truest hope?  Could all the good things we longed for actually be drawing us away from the one thing that is the truest fulfillment of all our desires?"

It really gets you thinking about life, and hope, and what you hope for...really, truly, hope for. And that if there is a God, an all loving, all mighty Father, shouldn't He...wouldn't He, know what is best? Why would He not give us our hearts desire, when He gave up His only son?  Could it be, and did you ever consider, that when things don't go your way, it is because it is going His way, and if He is the way, the truth and the life, why are we afraid? Why is it so hard to trust a God who gave us, and continues to give us, absolutely everything?

I have no reason to doubt God's plan for me. For my children. For my marriage. For anything. The proof is hanging on the cross.

If I could rewrite a few chapters in my story, would I?
Probably.
Based on past bad choices and obvious mistakes, of course I would.
I always think I know.
I always think I am in control.
I always think I know exactly what would make me and my family happy.
Until I realize that I am still left longing.
That the kids are still left longing.
That my idea of fulfillment is but a speck of nothing in comparison to God's all knowing truth, wisdom and understanding.

Nobody in their right mind would write a story for their children that involves the shooting in their school and the death of their friends and teachers.
Nobody in their right mind would include pain and suffering, anxiety and depression in their children's lives.
Nobody in their right mind would write of financial difficulty.
Nobody would choose to write a marriage that has bumps and bruises.
Nobody would write the story of finding your dream home to be told you have four weeks to get out.
But that does not mean we have no say in how we live out our story.
Because we do.
Because we have a choice.
We can choose how we respond.
And that is no small deal.
Our response to a life that feels like a mess?
That is a big deal.
A game changer.
And it is up to us.

We are most certainly at a detour in our lives right now.
And the way we have chosen to respond is by way of hope.
We have hope...an anchor of hope...firm and secure.
And we trust and believe in a God that sees so much more than we do.
How can I doubt Him?
He who put the stars in the sky and gave me life?
He who brings the sun up every morning and leads me to green pastures for rest?
And maybe...just maybe...because He knows better, this detour is the best thing for me; for us.
Kathryn Wolf says this:

"Perhaps some detours aren't detours at all.  Perhaps they are actually the path. The picture. The plan. And, perhaps, most unexpectedly, they can be perfect."

And I agree with her.
Because when I look back on my life, it is the detours, not my plan, that have lead me to exactly where I belong.

all before 9 AM

It is all quite an adventure before 9am when you factor in a new puppy, same old small fat puppy, four kids, with at least three in some sort of crisis at all times, and a chest cold that leaves you lifeless but even worse, voice less, because when the small fat dog runs into the busy morning traffic because he spots the garbage man, it is impossible to shout out and call after the dog when no sound comes out of your own exhausted self.

And before this, all of this chaos, was the awakening to find that dinner from last night was never put away and no coffee was set, and you stare at the 5:30 am time on the oven clock, with eight chicken drumsticks lying in the same dirty pan, like they have all been tucked in for the night under a blanket of some sort of disgusting gel that formed over night, and right then and there, you reconsider eating chicken ever again.

And then you stare at the couches that have no cushions or slip cover because pee and poop were wiped on them and I am not confident here that it is only the dogs to blame.

And all before 8am I tried to order two yearbooks and reschedule senior portraits, and did you  know that today is crazy hair day for fourth graders?

In these moments I do what I need to do.  I search pinterest for pretty cakes, only to look up and realize that the bus comes in ten minutes and nothing has been packed and the kid is not dressed, and suddenly I am dipping colored chalk into water and rubbing the living daylights out of my kids head because he wants rainbow hair.  Because don't forget.  It is crazy hair day.  I wish it was "forget to do your homework" day, or "don't pack any lunch" day.

Yesterday was the "miss the bus" day. For only us.

And now the house is quiet and I go to work soon, which means I shower and dress and sit back in this kitchen mess which is also known as my office, and I...go to work.

It is quite an adventure all before 9am.  And yet, maybe it is grace, or just some stupid luck, that I am able to sit here in absolute peace while I feel gratitude rise, because this ridiculous life is all mine, and every bit of it a gift.  I cling to to the verse "the Lord is my strength", because life lately, has done its best to weaken every bone in my body and shatter my faith, and yet I am wrapped around this anchor of hope that I refuse to let go of, and the only explanation for even having the energy to hold onto this anchor is that I grasp onto it not by my own strength, but by the very strength of the One who carefully knit this mess known as me; this mess that has nothing on the beauty that is Him, living inside of me.

entering the tomb

I think about her weeping at the empty tomb. Because haven't we all been there? Have we not all been so consumed by unimaginable sorrow that all we see is nothing?  I think about her a lot.  I picture her on her knees, face wet with tears, crying out, "Where is my God?"

Have we not all cried that out, at one time or another?

And what gets me is this. HE WAS THERE.
He was right there.
But she was blinded by a grief so large that it wiped away all hope.
It removed Him from the picture.
Angels could not even convince her that something amazing was happening.

Not until He called by her name did she notice Him.

If only she had taken that one step further-one more step into the tomb-one more step into the nothingness-one more step into the hurt and the doubt; just one more step, and she would have seen and known.

I can see myself next to her, you know.
Kneeling.
Crying.
Wondering, "Where is my God?"

And it is right here, in this place, that we are moved.
We need not to sit by the tomb, but rather, to enter into it.
And it is scary.
And it feels lonely.
But it is where He calls us to go.

And here He calls us by name.
He opens our eyes.
And we see that the nothingness we feared entering is actually the everything we long for.

hope

I just loved what she said.

"I don't know why, but when I'm driving and I get lost, I drive faster!"

And it just has me thinking so much of those times we feel lost, and how rather than sit and stay in the spot where we are (as our parents instructed us when we were little) we run! 

And in the wrong direction.

And then we run faster.

Until we don't even remember what we are running from.

We just know we are far away and have no way back.

And yet we do.

There's always a way.

It's called hope.

It's hard.

Staying still when you feel lost.

Because the fear is that no one will find you.

And yet the reality is, you were never on your own.

Remember.

He calms the storms and controls the seas.

He is your anchor.

Stop driving so fast.

Give him the wheel.

Hold on to hope.

Broken down cars, broken out skin, and ten week old puppies

Three weeks ago I got a flat tire.
Last week my car broke down.
And for two weeks now blogger will not allow me access to my own blog.

And so I'm writing this on my phone which I imagine is as fun as baking a wedding cake in your easy bake oven.
Or drying your hair with your easy bake oven.
Or baking with your easy bake oven.
Because it's a light bulb.
Not an oven.

So yeah.
A few curve balls.
And the occasional ball that hits you in your head.
I also have two pimples on my chin and grey hair coming in which frankly, makes no sense.
Not to mention is totally unfair.
And just stupid.

But it's okay.
Everything will be fine.
Because I am a child of God and He has great plans for me!
And because tomorrow I'm picking up a 10 week old puppy.

Because what could possibly go wrong with that???