Loneliness

Moving has a strange way of getting me all caught up, a giant twister of a storm catches me up with my home-family and all and then drops us in a new unfamiliar land leaving me to pick up the pieces, reorient myself, and then find a good local dr & grocery store to boot.

Today I feel like I got the drop part.

In truth, we've been in this new town for 7 or 8 weeks. But I think I just woke up from the blur of house hunting and settling that I've needed to do. In a moment of quiet today I had the strange realization that I'm without friends here.

I've made a friend. I call her pool Jen because I met her at the pool. She and I were kindred's,I both in move-mode with summer days to spend and kiddos to entertain. Now our kiddos have hit the busy road, school, sports and life and I barely see her. I think our paths won't cross accidentally so I should certainly phone her soon so I can stop whining about the no friend thing.

When you leave a town you leave behind people who don't always keep in touch..they're lives keep going and sometimes I think they protect themselves by being quiet. I miss my old friends, I want a new friend. I'm praying to that end. Loneliness doesn't look good on me.

So there you have it. No fancy post with a "cheer up" ending or spiritual content. It's just where I am today.

How?

It's all a big accident.

Or maybe there are no accidents. But I discovered Ann's blog about a month ago and have been enjoying it all along. I was not intending to have my heart all broken up this week.

Ann went with Compassion this week to Guatemala to visit the child that she's been sponsoring. She pushed through and photographed the homes she visited, the families she shared her heart with, the testimonies of the men whose lives have been changed by people. Little people here in the more affluent parts of the world who have offered a monthly gift to help out.

And all I can say is that I wasn't ready for this, to have my heart broken again with the reality of poverty, violence and hungry children in my eyes and mind. That somehow Ann made me a fly on the wall of her trip, all by mistake I'm sure. Or the providence of God, wanting to move my heart. How can it be that Ann's words have become mine? "How do I do this?"

How do I live so comfortably in a world so impoverished? How do I go about my own business? What can I do to make a difference in lives and souls impoverished? I am praying about what, what's to be done. How I can be used, just a mom teaching her boys at home?

And this week, how do I not let this get all twisted around, and take the joy out of this blessing God has given us, this new lovely home we'll move into Friday? How?

Sometimes all I know is this: God; He's not safe, but He's good. And He adores each of us.

Grandparents Day is for Remembering

The holes in her coat gaped open to the cold air. It troubled me, immediately. Why did my Grandma putter around town in a coat full of holes? Her home was never fancy. Cozy, yes. But nothing to speak of. Comfortable enough for the two of them and their guests, but they lived simply. A retired farmer and his wife, they had never known much, but they were cozy.

We left the house that day & I think I remember some adult discussion about the shame it was that my Grandma sent so much money off to help others in need. I remember thinking about it. Money in the mail, and holes in her coat.

And I thought about how my Grandma was a rough woman. She loved her Jesus so much but she wasn't always a tender, sweet woman. She was hurtful, and a bit harsh. I held myself at a distance from her...or perhaps my folks held me at a distance. At any rate, I didn't know her too well. I knew what I heard. And I knew this: she loved Jesus.

This was clear each time I was with her. She always had her Bible open, always mumbling things about God. When we would leave her house she always wondered aloud when Jesus would return.

Maybe it was good my hours with her were short, because my memories are few...and what I remember is her outstanding love for Christ.

I got a phone call the week she was dying. She was in the hospital, weak and failing. Should I go? Something in me didn't feel I had the right. She has five daughters, many grandchildren, all who had the right to be with her more than I. They knew her, served her and cared for her in a way I never had.

But I got in the car and drove. I walked into her hospital room and saw her sweet smile.

She was glad to see me.

I stayed on, unable to leave her. Each time someone would leave the room her eyes would follow. When you walked away from her side, her hand would reach up: "please, stay, stay with me here." She was so sweet and simple in those days.

And I stayed on. Comfort Care in the hospital gave her a bed and medication treatment, but it was up to the family to keep her comfortable and know what she needed when she needed it. She couldn't eat, couldn't drink. Her lips needed to be swabbed, she needed help to be comfortable. I could do some of the hard things in caring for her and I didn't want to leave.

Her days were spent in a sunny room full of family, daughters, granddaughters, grandsons and greats. We made posters to hang on the walls filled with favorite memories, pictures and a family tree. We sang songs, we prayed, we read her favorite scriptures again and again. We celebrated a life that raised five women who love God and raised children of their own.

The night vigil was mine or my mom's. The nights were quiet, the hum of machines and the soft sounds of her fighting breath. Until she finally quit fighting, she slipped away into the arms of her beloved, the one she'd known would come back for her. She was gone.

It was a gift. A gift that I was able to have, to spend those days with my grandmother. I look forward to seeing her one day again in Heaven, full of life, void of the criticism and pain.

Thank you Grandma, I love you.

bittersweet

I will never regret, I have never ever regretted biting my tongue long enough to think about what I'm going to say before I say it.

When words are many, sin is not absent, but he who holds his tongue is wise. -Prov. 10:19

I've been praying lately that God would help me to be humble. Not so much to chop off my feet so that I would see my true height, but that in all things He would teach me humility.

Reckless words pierce like a sword, but the tongue of the wise brings healing. Prov. 12:18

I think I'm seeing my first challenge. To bite my tongue. To think about what I am going to say before I say it. This is incredibly hard for me. You see I have so much that needs to be said and y'all just need to hear it!!

But all that being said, I'm going to go to bed now and read. It's a quiet thing. I'll check in and let you know how my new week goes...working to think before I speak.

He who guards his mouth and his tongue keeps himself from calamity. Prov 21:23

What kind of a God is this?

...For the Lamb Who is in the midst of the throne will be their Shepherd, and He will guide them to the springs of the waters of life; and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes. Revelations 7:17

What kind of a God is this, the God that made me? A God that will wipe away every tear from our eyes? He sees us. He sees our tears. Not just some tears, every tear. He sees the tears, he's heard our hearts, every tear.

He'll lead us to the springs of waters of life. Oh, and I'm just so thirsty. I try and try to fill my thirst with so many things. But my shepherd, the God that made me and wants to lead me, he'll take me to the springs of waters.

This begins my sharing journey, going back a little to learn just Who God is. Honestly, sometimes I feel so steeped in religion and all there's been to do, I never got to know Him as I'd like to. I want to get to know Him more. Some days I want to pour over His Word all day long.