Seized by Hope

Closing Out 2011

I spent some time this morning reading back through what I wrote in 2011.  I noticed that I didn't write as often as I had hoped I would as 2010 came to a close.  I also noticed that most of what I wrote about centered on the loss, the change and the process of settling into life here in Michigan.

Today I can say that I believe we are more "here" than we were a year ago.  Meaning, the emails back and forth with friends in San Antonio are fewer and further between and the phone calls are fewer as well.  My awareness of what is happening there is not as heightened, and I spend less time on facebook trying to stay connected.  I believe all of that is as it should be, and what it means is that there is a sense of loss that continues to sit in my heart.

I told a friend yesterday that "it is not ok, and I don't know if it will ever be ok again."  Perhaps a bit dramatic, and yet there is truth in the statement as well.

Katy and Allison continue to feel the impact of the move, perhaps most dramatically.   There are no friends calling for coffee dates, or parties for them to attend, and no one to catch a movie with or head to the mall for a bit of shopping together.  

We have spent more hours as family this past year and while there is a sweetness in that, there is also sorrow.

I am grateful for ALL the faces that joined us here at our home in Kalamazoo, faces of friends who traveled long distances to be with us and connect with us in our new city.  The mingling of those faces, familiar to our years in Texas, with our new surroundings has eased the pain and offered hope.  

This was year of travel for me, and of care for my soul and I am grateful for both.  Travel for OHM to Houston, Phoenix and Raleigh, cruising with Russ & Kim for Mark's 50th birthday, New York and Philadelphia with Katy and finally Italy to see Allison.  I loved every trip and all the moments etched in my heart from those who journeyed with me.  Care for my soul came both in the context of some of these trips, and in being intentional to find spaces designed to care for me.  It is a choice I will carry over into 2012.

Steven is more of a man and deeply connected to his community here, for him this place has brought what was missing for him in San Antonio.  I can only smile and thank God for His goodness to our son, who desperately needed to taste the hand of God on His life.  

As 2011 closes I am sitting again on my 3 three seasons porch, just as I was  year ago today.  The grass is green and we continue to wait for the snow that eluded us.  The smell from my one "live" Christmas tree is sweet in the air, and we are heading once again to Grand Rapids to same home we celebrated New Years in last year.  There are new traditions forming and friendships continuing to grow.

I have some thoughts about next year, but not for this post, not today.

Today I am remembering the year that closes tonight, the ups and downs, the beauty and the loss, the glory of God painted across it all.

Farewell 2011...

What do you know?

This morning my dad was sitting at the dining room table with coffee in his hand and his macbook opened up to iphoto.  I peered in to see what he was doing as I pulled my own coffee mug from the cupboard and asked, "what are those pictures?".  He told me he'd taken ALL of the slides from when we were kids and had them converted into digital images.  

I stood behind him looking at images of myself that I haven't seen in years, probably 20+ years.  We had very few snap shots of our growing up years, as slides were the "thing" so our photographic memories have been stored in numbered boxes in my parents garage for over half my life.

There wasn't time to sit down and look closely this morning, as holiday errands beckoned me to keep moving, but those images are waiting now for me to peruse more closely and at an honoring pace later on today or tomorrow hopefully.

Still, the images quickly stirred my memories and left me thinking a bit about who I was as that little girl, what my dreams were and wondering who my parents thought I would become as they experienced my little self.

Conversations this week with Katy and Allison have included our wondering about the little girls and what life will look like for them in 15 years, and who they will be.  We all have our ideas, and it is fun to listen to my older children talk about what they see in the little ones and what they imagine.  These conversations inevitably invite my memories of the older kids and questions about what I see and what I think about who they have become and are continuing to become.

There are things I knew when they were small that I see unfolding today in some of the ways I'd hoped, and other things that truly do surprise me.

What did Mary know?  How did a teenage girl hold so much in her heart and maintain her sanity?  Was she aware of who she was holding in her arms...who she really was holding?

Was I aware with my own children?  Will one of my children change the world?  Probably not, and yet there are world changers out there and its possible one my five could be a world changer.  At the very least, they will each have the opportunity to change the piece of the world that falls within their spere of influence, as do I.

Today I am very aware of my dreaming and wondering about my kids as I carried them in my belly, as I held them in my arms and as I continue to watch them grow.  

Gatherings

Our home has been a place of gatherings for the past thirteen years or so.  College kids started hanging out at our house during the winter of 1999 when we lived in Flagstaff, Arizona.  Late night cocoa and midnight football in the snow accompanied by "hookie-bobbing" behind our vehicles thru the street of our quiet neighborhood were frequent occurrences.  The late nights continued for the years we lived in San Antonio and ministered to young adults.  Last year our house was quiet here in Kalamazoo, almost strangely quiet.  This year has seen the return of late nights at our home, and we are all rejoicing.

The holiday gatherings over this past weekend included a party for Steve's friends Friday night...complete with cookie decorating, a bit of wild dancing (which actually made my Christmas tree sway back and forth as the house shook) and culminated with watching The Grinch.  Saturday night my Red Tent ladies came for dinner with their spouses, and Monday we hosted the team from Open Hearts Ministry.

As the original three grow older the fun of these parties increases.  The prep time was almost as much as the parties.

I don't have any deep profound words to share about any of this, just profound gratitude for the return of gatherings that feel life giving and sweet to my soul.

 

Divine Interruption

Divine Interruption.

Six years ago as Christmas approached I felt tired, more tired than usual.  As December unfolded the tiredness was soon accompanied by feelings of nausea when I brushed my teeth in the morning.  The week before Christmas I pushed through my resistance and purchased a pregnancy test.  I remember laying it carefully on the second shelf of the linen closet in our bathroom and walking upstairs to Libby's room and sitting down in the glider chair.  I slowly rocked back and forth wondering if there would be one or two pink lines when I returned to the bathroom.  As I rocked my heart was sliding back forth between fear about what the truth might mean and stunned wonder at what God might be doing.

It was a Divine Interruption that waited for me on the second shelf of that cabinet and my life was altered in unexpected ways that have been both glorious and difficult to hold.

I would never have imagined our drive to the airport to pick up our grown daughter returning home for Christmas from her job in a city far away to include these types of words...

"Let's go everyone, we are going to be late!"

"I can't get my left shoe tied, can someone help me?"

"I want to bring a barbie is that ok mom?"

"Sheepy isn't going to the airport with us."

"Sheepy is coming the airport, Sheepy is part of this family and the whole family is going to pick up Katy"

Divine Interruption.

 18 months ago Mark walked through the door of the house and spoke the words, "They let me go today."  I was sitting in my chair talking with my parents about the final projects that needed to be finished before the "For Sale" sign went in the ground later that day in our front yard.  The loss of Mark's job was a heavy blow and was only part of what would alter the course of our lives that summer.  As the realities of our life continued to unravel the word interruption feels appropriate to apply.  All that we had thought about where we would live, what we do and how the next ten years of our life would look was shattered.

Divine Interruption.

There are surely more such stories I could tell, but none quite as dramatic as these.  The interruption is divine when it seems to come from nowhere and has the hand prints of God all over it.  His hand prints do not ease the shock, or remove the disruption that inevitably accompanies such events.

A sleepy city housing travelers waiting to register for a census the next day.  The story about a Messiah was a familiar tale passed down from generation to generation, the city was named in the prophecy, and after so many years I imagine it was easy to dismiss the probability of such an event actually occurring.  Still, a brilliant star rose in the sky and a unassuming couple made their way into the city carrying the Savior of us all.

The scene is really unbelievable.

I have heard the words "unbelievable" about the stories of my own life.  To see God's plan unfold is still unbelievable.

He comes in ways that are an interruption to our daily routines, and the predictability that we have embraced...often calling it "stability".  

He still comes to the "stable" and births something life giving, unexpected and divinely interrupting.

Where is your "stable" place this year, are you ready for Him to come interrupt it?

You should know that with His interruptions also comes an invitation to party with Him.....

 

Homecomings....

We sat in the three seasons room with Allison and sipped some Prosecco tonight, I found it at Trader Joe's yesterday and by chance it was from the same region in Italy as her school.  (the best part was I only paid $4.99 for it!!)  She told us stories from her Italian adventures and as she spoke I was aware that she is an adult and is only passing through our home now on her way to the rest of her life.

Tomorrow Katy will come home.  For three weeks she will live in "her" room upstairs.  

For three weeks all of my children will be home and we will operate as a family unit, laughing and crying and dancing and drinking coffee and hot chocolate...toasting the glories of Christmas together.

I am anxious for tomorrow and for the three weeks that lie ahead.  I wonder how many Christmas's are ahead where we will all be here together for extended periods of time.  It seems as if this is borrowed time.  As I think about my own family of origin I am aware it has been at least 11 years since we were even in the same state for the holidays and even then we were not all gathered together on Christmas day.  It is an extravagance that I want to savor.

Hoping and Dreaming.....

While we lived in Texas, and in Arizona, I would hope for the temperature to drop below 50 degrees during December.  If there was rain in addition to the cold it was as if God had smiled down on us.  I would hope for cold weather, 50 degrees, and rain for Christmas.  

So, today I woke up to rain, and the last bits of snowy residue from a light snow we got last week were gone.  As I drove to work this morning I found myself feeling disappointed at the rain drops hitting my windshield and the outside temperature gauge in my car reading 41 degrees.

As I sat at my desk podering I realized that my hopes in Texas and Arizona were confined by what I believed could happen.  Snow wasn't possible, so I wasn't disappointed when it didn't happen.  

My hope has grown here, it absolutely extends to snow...and today I am disappointed.

I hate expecting snow and not getting it... it sucks. I hope for many things and too often forget to continue to hope or even just dream for them. I want to dream for things, and then act out of those hopes and dreams, I can do more than I credit myself to be capable of and I don't do myself justice to just settle for what I figure will happen. To not hope is to not be all of myself.

I wonder how hope was sustained for those waiting for the Messiah?  Did it become dull and squeezed down?  How hard must it have been to believe that He had arrived? 

While snow is certainly on the "lighter" side of what I am hoping for, the metaphor is indicative of much of what happens in my own heart.  Like Steven, I too have found that when I relinquish hope or even squeeze it down small, I cease to be all of myself.  I have noticed recently that over the last couple of years I have squeezed down my hope in some core areas and allowing it to grow again is both life giving and full of risk.

Tonight someone said, "I think it's supposed to snow next week on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday" and I found myself thinking, "I'll believe that when it happens."  

We sat around tonight lamenting the ridiculousness and that it's December 14th in Michigan and we have NO SNOW!!

So, tonight I am hoping and dreaming of a white Christmas...and it feels a bit risky, and I am aware I may be disappointed.

And, I am hoping anyhow.

 

Juxtaposed Advent

The lilting notes filled the car, upbeat and inviting.  My heart felt beckoned into the melody and seduced by the melodic strains.  As the lyric unfolded I could feel a sadness and a bit of disappointment because this was not a song that was going to leave me with a happy feeling.

The song stayed with me throughout the day today.  The juxtaposition of the lyric and the melody sinking deeper in my thoughts.

I find there is a predictability to this season that seems to say that you may feel excited and happy about the season, or perhaps a bit nostalic...as long as your nostalgia ends in some sort of happy space. However, for most people there is far more stirring in our hearts than the narrow band of what predictability allows.

Are you finding yourself feeling more and more pregnant as Advent progresses?  Is your belly feeling large and uncomfortable?  Is your back aching?  Are you waking in the night several times because your cumbersome form is unable to rest easily?  Can you feel the life moving inside you, evidence of what is and yet what is not yet?

What if you must remain in a pregnant state long after December 25th?  What if there will not be relief from the ache of desire and hope?

When I carried my children inside my womb I took up more space, literally and emotionally.  My heart seemed to rest in my throat and I was far more aware of my emotions.  I lived more gently with myself.  

There is a juxtoposition I am feeling this year.  The lyric of my heart and the melody of my soul not always seeming to line up perfectly and predictably.

I am carrying things that leave me feeling a bit uncomfortable, and at times aching.  I have found that I've woken up early unable to stay at rest until my alarm goes off in the morning.  There is life moving, there are things which are, and things which are not yet.

I don't anticipate relief of December 25th.

I do want to live gently with myself, and with those around me.

I am missing Steven's words in this post, I wonder what he would have to say.

 

Remembering

This is a "re-post" from last year, it's where my heart has spent time today.....

 

Today we sat across the table from our good friends and signed the paperwork to close our house.  We passed papers back and forth as we purchased the home they've lived in for the past 19 years.  As the closing agent left to make all of the copies we sat and visited and laughed together.  It was a day I will not forget, for many reasons.  There was something sweet and so gracious about the way this has all come about for us.  I will have more words about that another day.

I drove back to the house and waited for Mark to bring us some lunch.  We sat at the island in the kitchen with our Panera soup and sandwiches and he asked me if I wanted to pray.  My eyes filled with tears and I could barely get out the words, "Thank you God."

I cried at Wal-Mart as I put things in my cart...soap for the bathrooms, a broom, a blanket for the sofa in the 3 seasons room, diet Dr. Pepper, and cereal for the kids.  For the first time in 4 months I was buying things to go in my home and then I drove home and unloaded them into my kitchen.

Late in the afternoon the doorbell rang and the UPS man dropped off the first box to arrive at our house.  I opened it up and pulled out a spectacular basket filled with wine, cheese, crackers, gourmet chocolates and wrapped with a beautiful bow.  I opened the card and it read the sweet note from our dear friends Russ and Kim.

I cried again standing in the kitchen.  The package felt so perfectly timed, a box filled with celebration food.  All the items familiar and indicative of what we would share with Russ and Kim during the month of December in front of a warm fire.

A few days ago Russ posted on his blog about traditions and how they are good memory makers.  I love traditions, in fact I  wrote about traditions a few years ago on this blog.  ( you can find them all during December 2007 in my archives)...at any rate, I haven't been able to hold too many of my traditions in the past few months.

Today I tasted the return of some traditions, it was just an appetizer, but I know the full meal is coming.  I hung the garland on the front porch tonight, and put candles in the upstairs windows...and the wreath is on the front of my truck.

More importantly, I am tasting the presence of Emmanuel....God with us.

This song made its way to my ipod repeatedly today, like many others in my life right now, I don't think its coincidental.   It expresses well the posture of my heart today.  Enjoy.

 

Spend your Everything

"find that thing in the world that breaks your heart, and spend your everything to bring justice and healing to that situation"

A friend sent this to me in a message today, its his version of a John Piper quote.  My friend went on to put words to what breaks his heart and how God is speaking to Him about what is next for him in his life.

There are things that break my heart.

"Spend your everything to bring justice and healing to that situation"

Would I spend Steven?

Seriously, would I spend Steven to bring justice and healing to something that breaks my heart?  It is a heartbreaking question.  My everything, would have to include what I hold most precious and that certainly includes my children.  

Would you?

What is most precious and part of your "everything"?

I imagine my mom giving me away and, as surprising as this is, it's disturbing. I sometimes like to think that I would be able to sacrifice my life for others, but letting my mom, ship me off to the slums of China perhaps, that is something that tears at my heart and does not leave me excited for Christmas.

Would you get on the next flight to Africa to live with muddy water, no presents, sex trafficking, no family, and people who don't speak your language this Christmas?

Would you leave your Father, know unbelievable humiliation, submerge yourself in another culture, and then die a horrifically painful death to save them knowing that many of them don't even want what you are sacrificing yourself to give them?

Would you give your everything?

What wrongs are you meant to right, what brokenness are you to engage for the sake of healing?

What tugs at your heart and speaks to your soul?

Amidst the lights and shopping, and Christmas chaos will you stop long enough to listen to your heart? This would be more than just grabbing an "angel" off a tree and buying a toy for an underprivileged child.  It would mean really listening to what God might speak to you this Advent.

I am listening, carefully.

I wrote about this yesterday, but I can feel very clearly God's tug on my heart, my school. There are kids, my friends who need me at my school, they are sinful and need Christ, I could be that messanger for them, they need good tidings of great joy.

I am a messanger of Advent.

 

O Come O Come...

The people of God wait, for hundreds of years they waited for the promised Messiah.  Looking, watching, waiting, wondering, hoping, many for entire lifetimes without ever knowing the longing of their hearts fulfilled. 

 For those who have come to a place of trusting Jesus to bring them home to heaven the waiting continues in a different form…waiting to see Him face to face, waiting for the beauty of heaven, waiting for the party of all parties.

 And, the waiting may be even more personal.  Does your life feel like a personal advent?  A deep ache inside of your heart for something you do not taste today? 

 I’ve heard messages in church about making your heart a stable, or perhaps “Bethlehem”.  The analogy feels obvious, make room for the Savior, and welcome Him warmly.  The analogy is good, and making room for the Savior of the world is certainly worthwhile!

 For me, the place of welcoming Him is not the question this year.  He is with me, I feel His presence, and….

 And, there is an ache that is very much attached to waiting, wondering, hoping and not knowing if what I ache for will come during my lifetime. 

 My ache stems from the place in my heart where hope resides. 

 O Come, O Come Emmanuel

And ransom captive Israel

That mourns in lonely exile here

Until the grace of God appears

Rejoice

Rejoice

Emmanuel

 It can feel lonely for sure, and sometimes like you are in exile to live with such an ache.  God’s grace has come, and is coming and will continue to come to the deepest regions of my heart, as I live with the integrity to name and feel where I don’t experience all of Him.

 This side of heaven my life, my story and my heart will continue to open up and unfold into more and more of the grace of God.

 And so, my heart is in a state of Advent, waiting and hoping and remembering, rejoicing for what has been while I wait for what is to come.

I too feel the waiting, the longing. In fact I started to struggle with what I do in the waiting, The enemy knows that I have a longing for God's love, he aslo knows that I am impatient amd therefore tempts me to go searching for love in the worng places.

I have found that instead of giving into this temptation I can take my great longing and use it to drive my desire to show others the love that I desire, while I can never fulfill that for them either, I can give them a taste of God's love.