I keep several journals going at all times. I tell my children they will have such fun after I am gone, just trying to sort out my scribblings and put them into some semblance of chronological order. I leave a journal in the living room, by my bedside, one in the bathroom, and one in the kitchen. I have even thought about leaving one in my car! Thoughts or feelings will suddenly hit me and I feel compelled to write it down, knowing my feeble brain cannot possibly retain all that good information for too long...but my journals can.
Some of my best conversations with God are in those journals. On some pages, I find despair and wretchedness in my voice as I cry out to God for mercy or help. On others, there is pure bliss and gratitude and thankfulness for the goodness that is God and the blessings that He showers on me and my family. Still more, will be filled with angst and worry about some uncertainty in my world. As I flip through the pages of ink marks, inevitably I come across many pages that express my sincere appreciation for answered prayers.
As I was re-reading some of my old entries, I found that there was a pattern to the messages I had penned. In retrospect, I noticed how many of my prayers were nearly immediately answered with a resounding, "Yes". I found that many prayers were answered positively, but not as soon as I would have liked...in His time, my desire was filled. There were several requests that were answered with a flat and final, "No" and those were always followed by a pitiful entry, filled with whining and grumbling and wondering, "Where are you, God?" I felt as if God had let me down.
Looking back at the prayers that were met with negative results, I can now see the wisdom in the denial. I realize how much better things worked out because I didn't have my way. Instead, He had His. His way in His time is soooo much better than mine, because He can see the whole parade that is my life. He sees the beginning and the end and everything in between. He never forgets, like I do. I am learning to trust Him because He loves me and because He knows what is best for me and because He will never let me down. I used to feel as if I had let God down, but I think I finally got the message that HE IS GOD and I can't let Him down...there is not enough power on earth that I could possess to have that kind of effect on God. I can't let Him down, because it is He who holds me up with His righteous right hand.
My journals are a testament to the presence of my Creator, in my life. I can so readily and easily see, what was once so veiled and hidden from my view. I couldn't see the good that He had in store for me, when He told me no. I couldn't make out any good reason why He made me wait for somethings. But when I read my journals, it is like faith, in living color painted across the pages of my books. I see His justice being done on my behalf. I see the love He has for me and the care He takes with my family. I see how at times, He comforted me with dear friends and family members and at other times, He gave me His peace, in my aloneness. I see that when I am sad and weeping in misery, He is rocking me gently, until I am calm again. I see that I matter enough to Him, that He is ever present and ever active in my world. I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that He has always been here for me and that He always will be guiding me through this maze called life.
I encourage anybody who wants to strengthen their faith and their relationship with God to talk to Him, in black and white. I guarantee that when you look back through the posts, there will be more to be found, than just a bunch of words. Spoken words are easy to deny, but when you put it in ink, on paper, it becomes evidence of your convictions and makes you accountable, because the written word does not lie. What a priceless treasure to pass on to my children when I leave this earth. Books full of words of love for them and their father and a life map that can guide them to a greater faith in the God I serve. I cannot think of a better legacy to leave in my absence, but my words... from my heart to theirs, from my lips to God's throne.
Saturday, September 26, 2009
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
The Story of the Cross (not your typical story)
There is a story that tells of a man who has a dream. In the dream, he meets Jesus. Jesus asks him why he is troubled and so burdened. The man replies that it is this cross that he has been asked to carry, it is too heavy. After the man whines a little more, Jesus opens a door to a room that is FULL of nothing but various sizes and shapes of crosses. Jesus invites the man to go inside and choose a cross that is more to his liking. After laying his cross at the door the man makes his way around the room testing and trying each cross to see if it better suits him. One was not sanded and wooden splinters dug into his skin. Another looked really small, but its size was deceiving..it was heavier than any other. The next was too long and awkward, the next too short and dumpy. Then he finally came across the perfect cross...perfect size, shape, weight...and the man looked up to Jesus and told him that this was the one. Jesus smiled and told him that was the cross he had originally walked into the room carrying. As the man scanned the room, he realized that he had indeed, gone full circle and picked up his own cross.
The moral is that often we don't realize how blessed we are and how good we have it, until we look around at the crosses others bear daily. That brings me to my blog message.
Right now, at this moment in time, my life is in upheaval. Not much is going well. Delays in production have all but halted our cash flow and we are in a constant state of waiting...waiting for this glitch to be worked out, waiting for this check to come in, waiting for all other crisis to end so that we can get back to our own nervous breakdown.
Still,in all that turmoil and the worry that has ensued, I am relatively at peace. Some days are better than others. The knot in my stomach is, on a good day, non-existant. On a not so good day, it feels like a white, hot, coal sitting in the pit of me. Today, I am at peace. It's a good day.
I have been reading the blogs that I follow and one group in particular is what I call my inspiration blogs. My "there, but for the grace of God, go I" blogs. They inspire me to not wallow in my self pity. They make me grateful for what I have and take my focus off the things that I don't. The strength of the women who pen these thoughts, motivates me to do more and be more and to live everyday with thanksgiving for what I am and what I have.
And when I take a good, long, hard look at my problems, they dim dramatically by comparison with these good ladies challenges. I am almost ashamed that I have allowed myself to be taken down by the stuff that life has thrown at me, when I know that any one of these women would gladly take my problems...if it meant they could have their child back from the grave and in their arms. If it meant their husband and children were once again alive and living with them, I am sure they would trade in a instant with me. The women who are fighting for their very lives everyday, in hopes of staying alive, long enough for doctors to find a cure. The ones who struggle daily with loved ones who are ill and who feel the strain of care giving 24/7. The ones who just have a really tough time finding a reason to stay here, at all, because of depression and misery. I have no doubt they would trade my penny ante problems for their own, in a NY minute. I have learned as I have grown older, that the calmer I remain, the better off I am. I learned that from these ladies who have and do endure suffering and live to tell about it.
So to these ladies, I express my deepest gratitude. In the sharing of your lives, you have inspired me to keep pushing, don't sweat the small stuff, keep it in perspective, and appreciate my blessings. I admire your bravery in allowing us a peek into your private, personal self, but more than that, I thank you for prompting me to become a better person, through your life stories.
You may or may not know who you are, but if this post resembles you and you are a part of my life...chances are you are who I am talking to. Whether you know it or not, you have inspired me to reach a little higher and walk a little taller and I thank you.
The moral is that often we don't realize how blessed we are and how good we have it, until we look around at the crosses others bear daily. That brings me to my blog message.
Right now, at this moment in time, my life is in upheaval. Not much is going well. Delays in production have all but halted our cash flow and we are in a constant state of waiting...waiting for this glitch to be worked out, waiting for this check to come in, waiting for all other crisis to end so that we can get back to our own nervous breakdown.
Still,in all that turmoil and the worry that has ensued, I am relatively at peace. Some days are better than others. The knot in my stomach is, on a good day, non-existant. On a not so good day, it feels like a white, hot, coal sitting in the pit of me. Today, I am at peace. It's a good day.
I have been reading the blogs that I follow and one group in particular is what I call my inspiration blogs. My "there, but for the grace of God, go I" blogs. They inspire me to not wallow in my self pity. They make me grateful for what I have and take my focus off the things that I don't. The strength of the women who pen these thoughts, motivates me to do more and be more and to live everyday with thanksgiving for what I am and what I have.
And when I take a good, long, hard look at my problems, they dim dramatically by comparison with these good ladies challenges. I am almost ashamed that I have allowed myself to be taken down by the stuff that life has thrown at me, when I know that any one of these women would gladly take my problems...if it meant they could have their child back from the grave and in their arms. If it meant their husband and children were once again alive and living with them, I am sure they would trade in a instant with me. The women who are fighting for their very lives everyday, in hopes of staying alive, long enough for doctors to find a cure. The ones who struggle daily with loved ones who are ill and who feel the strain of care giving 24/7. The ones who just have a really tough time finding a reason to stay here, at all, because of depression and misery. I have no doubt they would trade my penny ante problems for their own, in a NY minute. I have learned as I have grown older, that the calmer I remain, the better off I am. I learned that from these ladies who have and do endure suffering and live to tell about it.
So to these ladies, I express my deepest gratitude. In the sharing of your lives, you have inspired me to keep pushing, don't sweat the small stuff, keep it in perspective, and appreciate my blessings. I admire your bravery in allowing us a peek into your private, personal self, but more than that, I thank you for prompting me to become a better person, through your life stories.
You may or may not know who you are, but if this post resembles you and you are a part of my life...chances are you are who I am talking to. Whether you know it or not, you have inspired me to reach a little higher and walk a little taller and I thank you.
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