This weekend...
There was lots of excitement in our home over our new little fur ball, Thumbelina, and our precious visitors, Liz and little (not-so-little) Emily. The girls played, chased the kitty, carried her around, and fought over her all day long (not Emily, just my two!). Thankfully, Thumbelina takes it with grace and dignity, making her a naturally assimilated Erskine female. :)
During one of the kitten's run-for-your-life escapades earlier this weekend, Roya chased her behind the washer and dryer in the laundry room. I was saying, No Roya, you may not go back there! Leave her be! Let her have her space! Yes, Mama!?!?! She eventually backed up and crawled out from behind the laundry equipment and all was well. Until... this morning, while I was running some errands, Liz was helping with the laundry... Both of us had failed to realize that, during Roya's escapade behind the washer, she managed to unhook one of the pipes particularly relevant to the washers rinse cycle... Thus leading to a major flood on my basement carpets... :)
We soaked up what we could of the water, had to say goodbye to our friends, ate lunch, Alea napped, and we spent the rest of the day dancing over wet towels and soggy blankets, soaking up the sea of swampy carpets. Even Thumbelina (or Phumbelina, as Alea says) seemed to enjoy running along the flooded path, puddles squirting up around her as she scurried by...
For supper, I made a meal Lynn would have been proud of, sprouted rice with quinoa blend, peas (because Roya eats them), raw carrots (because Roya eats them), and whole almonds I toasted on the stove with a little oil, salt, and chilli powder.
I called the girls to come to the table and low and behold, they came down for dinner dressed in their Indian outfits Daddy had brought back form his trip to India in February 2011. Our meal wasn't necessarily Indian, but it seemed fitting nonetheless and brought back many memories with our global-justice minded and culturally savvy husband/Daddy.
We are finishing off the day with jammies, story-time, and feeding Thumbelina her pill... Because yes, not only did I pay money to buy a cat, along with the necessary "stuff"... I bought a sick kitten who needs 3 more days of medication... Oh how Lynn would cringe. :)
Every day is a day of grace. Some days the grace of God allows us to enjoy what is happening. Some days the grace of God allows us to endure what is happening. But every day, is a day of grace. -Graham Cook
Monday, November 19, 2012
Sunday, November 18, 2012
Beloved.
Song of Solomon 2:3-6
Like an apple tree among the trees of the forest,
So is my beloved among the young men.
In his shade I took great delight and sat down,
And his fruit was sweet to my taste.
4 He has brought me to his banquet hall,
And his banner over me is love.
5 Sustain me with raisin cakes,
Refresh me with apples,
Because I am lovesick.
6 Let his left hand be under my head
And his right hand embrace me.
When I read this poetic passage of Scripture, I can close my eyes, go back in time (only a few months!), and remember my beloved husband, and rejoice in the love we shared...
Still, I hear His voice beckoning... I am my beloved's and my beloved is mine. (Song of Solomon 6:3)
Realizing that God is my Beloved Husband brings mixed emotions. What a comfort to know that God is more than enough for me. What a blessing to trust in a faithful God for provision and perfect love.
But what about my other beloved? What about my heart as a wife, still ready and positioned to love? What about the tangible strength of my husband's embrace and the presence of his warmth at night in bed?
Pressing into the Lord right now is... interesting. Can I rejoice that I have a loving God when a deep sadness pools at the base of my heart like a heavy sea of loss? Can I be wooed into the fullness of Him who fills all in all? (Eph 1:23)
It is strange to realize that even God can't replace Lynn. That's not His design. And though I ache and long for the day when I will see his face again with new eyes in a new place... He will not be my husband then. In that day, we will glory together as one, the Bride of Christ, and eat at the Lord's table, our Beloved Bridegroom...
The truth is, as I am coming to accept it, slowly but surely... I am alone. single. not married. My husband is gone. Yes, Lynn is alive. But, I will never live another day in what was.
I am not happy about this. This wasn't my plan. I'm sad, deeply saddened, and sorrowful.
Father, can you woo me to a place where I rejoice in my Beloved Bridegroom, and revel in His Presence when I am longing for the other...? Does your love permeate the secret places of my heart, all that I am as woman... wife?
Can you make me whole and complete in the fullness of Him who fills all in all?
Like an apple tree among the trees of the forest,
So is my beloved among the young men.
In his shade I took great delight and sat down,
And his fruit was sweet to my taste.
4 He has brought me to his banquet hall,
And his banner over me is love.
5 Sustain me with raisin cakes,
Refresh me with apples,
Because I am lovesick.
6 Let his left hand be under my head
And his right hand embrace me.
When I read this poetic passage of Scripture, I can close my eyes, go back in time (only a few months!), and remember my beloved husband, and rejoice in the love we shared...
Still, I hear His voice beckoning... I am my beloved's and my beloved is mine. (Song of Solomon 6:3)
Realizing that God is my Beloved Husband brings mixed emotions. What a comfort to know that God is more than enough for me. What a blessing to trust in a faithful God for provision and perfect love.
But what about my other beloved? What about my heart as a wife, still ready and positioned to love? What about the tangible strength of my husband's embrace and the presence of his warmth at night in bed?
Pressing into the Lord right now is... interesting. Can I rejoice that I have a loving God when a deep sadness pools at the base of my heart like a heavy sea of loss? Can I be wooed into the fullness of Him who fills all in all? (Eph 1:23)
It is strange to realize that even God can't replace Lynn. That's not His design. And though I ache and long for the day when I will see his face again with new eyes in a new place... He will not be my husband then. In that day, we will glory together as one, the Bride of Christ, and eat at the Lord's table, our Beloved Bridegroom...
The truth is, as I am coming to accept it, slowly but surely... I am alone. single. not married. My husband is gone. Yes, Lynn is alive. But, I will never live another day in what was.
I am not happy about this. This wasn't my plan. I'm sad, deeply saddened, and sorrowful.
Father, can you woo me to a place where I rejoice in my Beloved Bridegroom, and revel in His Presence when I am longing for the other...? Does your love permeate the secret places of my heart, all that I am as woman... wife?
Can you make me whole and complete in the fullness of Him who fills all in all?
Saturday, November 17, 2012
Thumbelina
Okay, here it is. The post we have all been waiting for... Meet Thumbelina!
We got a kitten!!! Hahahahahaha!!!
Lynn and I were not pet people. Let me emphasize... NOT pet people. Lynn, in fact, would actually consider considering divorce if I ever mentioned the idea of bringing home a pet. He was firmly opposed to any and all kinds of pet ownership and no amount of blue eyed eyelid batting was going to change it...
Days after he died, after having to tell my daughters that their Daddy was gone, I looked at Roya and broke over the deep sadness she was feeling. She has always had a special love and connection with animals, and I felt a desperate need to provide a pet for her to snuggle and talk to throughout her grieving process. I remember looking upwards and saying under my breath, I'm getting her a dog and there's nothing you can say about it!
After some consideration, (and probably some intervention), I decided we were not ready for a puppy :) Slowly but surely, I came around to the idea of introducing a snuggly kitten to our new little family. As month 3 began and progressed, I became increasingly confident that this would add some much needed love, joy, fun, and distraction to our mundane, grief-laden existence (without the demands and commitments required when adopting a puppy). So, we went to the SPCA, chose our kitten, bought the necessary "stuff", and here we are :)
So far, it is everything I had hoped for with the girls. But I feel... sad. I am confident it was a good decision and committed to the task, but still feel sad. It is just one more step toward a new life... And one more step away from Lynn.
When we purchased her, I felt shame, like a child, knowing she was doing something wrong, and knowing she'd be in trouble when she got home. But I'm home and I'm not in trouble. Because Lynn's not here.
We are smiling and happy and my girls are rejoicing!! But I am sad that this is one more way I have lost him. One more part of him that is no longer here, influencing our family...
I miss him. So, I suppose a soft little snuggle from a kitten every now and then won't be so bad... And she is kinda cute :)
But NO, I will not be turning into a crazy cat lady, for those of you who have already asked or thought about it. :)
We got a kitten!!! Hahahahahaha!!!
Lynn and I were not pet people. Let me emphasize... NOT pet people. Lynn, in fact, would actually consider considering divorce if I ever mentioned the idea of bringing home a pet. He was firmly opposed to any and all kinds of pet ownership and no amount of blue eyed eyelid batting was going to change it...
Days after he died, after having to tell my daughters that their Daddy was gone, I looked at Roya and broke over the deep sadness she was feeling. She has always had a special love and connection with animals, and I felt a desperate need to provide a pet for her to snuggle and talk to throughout her grieving process. I remember looking upwards and saying under my breath, I'm getting her a dog and there's nothing you can say about it!
After some consideration, (and probably some intervention), I decided we were not ready for a puppy :) Slowly but surely, I came around to the idea of introducing a snuggly kitten to our new little family. As month 3 began and progressed, I became increasingly confident that this would add some much needed love, joy, fun, and distraction to our mundane, grief-laden existence (without the demands and commitments required when adopting a puppy). So, we went to the SPCA, chose our kitten, bought the necessary "stuff", and here we are :)
So far, it is everything I had hoped for with the girls. But I feel... sad. I am confident it was a good decision and committed to the task, but still feel sad. It is just one more step toward a new life... And one more step away from Lynn.
When we purchased her, I felt shame, like a child, knowing she was doing something wrong, and knowing she'd be in trouble when she got home. But I'm home and I'm not in trouble. Because Lynn's not here.
We are smiling and happy and my girls are rejoicing!! But I am sad that this is one more way I have lost him. One more part of him that is no longer here, influencing our family...
I miss him. So, I suppose a soft little snuggle from a kitten every now and then won't be so bad... And she is kinda cute :)
But NO, I will not be turning into a crazy cat lady, for those of you who have already asked or thought about it. :)
Thursday, November 15, 2012
A Daddy's arms.
Last week, we were visiting friends. I have not asked permission to write this, so I will ask forgiveness instead. This is what happened...
My girls kicked off their boots and ran, comfortable in their familiar surroundings. One went up, the other down, kids playing in different places all over the house. The atmosphere was fun and inviting.
The Mom was upstairs in the kitchen (naturally...) and the Dad hadn't arrived home from work yet. I sat in the family room, watching some of the kids play, while Alea climbed all over me, as usual.
Soon, we hear the door. Dad's home! someone says. Dad comes in ready and engaged. He goes throughout the house, seeking out his children, just to give a touch and say hello. Alea makes eyes at him... He smiles back, saying I'm gonna get you in just a minute... Alea continues to tease and he laughs, while trying to finish his conversation with someone else. Soon, they are tickling and giggling, chasing and hiding, laughing and playing... The giggles erupted out of Alea with such joy and enthusiasm. She was in her glory, being loved on and played with by a Daddy.
I watched this with laughter of my own, and with unbearable pain. I had to turn my face away before he saw my sobs (though they weren't hidden very well). He was so much like Lynn, just how Lynn would have come home. He exposed our loss, the void that was Lynn, Daddy, and I missed him so.
STILL, it was the most beautiful gift... Daddy.
I am blessed to know real community. I am blessed to have beautiful friendships. I am blessed to have this one among many men in my life who did not shy away from us because we were awkward or emotional, and have no male counter-part... But he approached us in love, acceptance, and respect. A Daddy who offered his arms to my daughters telling them by his actions, You are still worthy to be loved! You are still worthy of a father's attention! I will be the arms to remind you of this love, even if only for a moment.
What does it mean to care for widows and orphans? Do we ostracize them? Do we avoid them because it's uncomfortable? Or do we love them? And what does this love look like? I am convinced that what Heidi Baker says is true... What is love if it doesn't look like something? In this case, it looked like arms, laughing, playing.
My friend, those arms around my daughters wiggly body... Thank you for giving them each a Daddy's love and opening up your heart to them, even if it was for a moment.
(This is one story among many. I am so blessed in my community of friends and family. We are not meant to journey this alone and could not make it if we tried. Thank you.)
My girls kicked off their boots and ran, comfortable in their familiar surroundings. One went up, the other down, kids playing in different places all over the house. The atmosphere was fun and inviting.
The Mom was upstairs in the kitchen (naturally...) and the Dad hadn't arrived home from work yet. I sat in the family room, watching some of the kids play, while Alea climbed all over me, as usual.
Soon, we hear the door. Dad's home! someone says. Dad comes in ready and engaged. He goes throughout the house, seeking out his children, just to give a touch and say hello. Alea makes eyes at him... He smiles back, saying I'm gonna get you in just a minute... Alea continues to tease and he laughs, while trying to finish his conversation with someone else. Soon, they are tickling and giggling, chasing and hiding, laughing and playing... The giggles erupted out of Alea with such joy and enthusiasm. She was in her glory, being loved on and played with by a Daddy.
I watched this with laughter of my own, and with unbearable pain. I had to turn my face away before he saw my sobs (though they weren't hidden very well). He was so much like Lynn, just how Lynn would have come home. He exposed our loss, the void that was Lynn, Daddy, and I missed him so.
STILL, it was the most beautiful gift... Daddy.
I am blessed to know real community. I am blessed to have beautiful friendships. I am blessed to have this one among many men in my life who did not shy away from us because we were awkward or emotional, and have no male counter-part... But he approached us in love, acceptance, and respect. A Daddy who offered his arms to my daughters telling them by his actions, You are still worthy to be loved! You are still worthy of a father's attention! I will be the arms to remind you of this love, even if only for a moment.
What does it mean to care for widows and orphans? Do we ostracize them? Do we avoid them because it's uncomfortable? Or do we love them? And what does this love look like? I am convinced that what Heidi Baker says is true... What is love if it doesn't look like something? In this case, it looked like arms, laughing, playing.
My friend, those arms around my daughters wiggly body... Thank you for giving them each a Daddy's love and opening up your heart to them, even if it was for a moment.
(This is one story among many. I am so blessed in my community of friends and family. We are not meant to journey this alone and could not make it if we tried. Thank you.)
Tuesday, November 13, 2012
My friend.
The rain is pouring down on my rooftop. The sound is beautiful. rhythmic. mesmerizing. Lynn loved the rain. It soothed him. He was still, tranquil, and romantic when listening to the rain.
It's about that time... This is the time I would be up in bed, waiting for Lynn to get home, knowing that if I wanted to sleep it had to be before he arrived, because otherwise he'd keep me up talking, but also knowing I was too anxious to see him and would undoubtedly stay awake until I heard those sounds... First the car, then the gravel, the car door, then the front steps, the front door... And soon enough he'd be bounding up the steps to our bedroom to see me. Sometimes, I'd pretend to be asleep thinking.. Oh no. He's full of energy tonight. I soooo want sleep!! But he knew :) And I couldn't keep away from him. Soon we'd start talking. His day would start flowing. He'd carry on until I kicked him out. Then, he'd go downstairs to our living room rocking chair and read running articles or food blogs online on his IPad... After an hour or so, if he still couldn't calm his brain down, he'd be back for more. He'd bound into bed, still full of energy, trying to let me sleep but unable to reign in his loving heart. I was after all, his best friend. So he'd share some more, then roll over and snore. Yet, again, I would sigh into his back, roll over to my own sleeping position, and stay up half the night pondering the things he'd shared... Unable to sleep by both the burdens Lynn had shared, the noise of his snoring (sometimes), and... sheer frustration that he'd done it to me again :).
Being married to my best friend was wonderful. We shared everything. We enjoyed every moment of each others company. The adjustment to parenthood and active ministry was hard, but we were determined to raise the standard and make it work. We loved each other.
This is the card I read from him tonight, written November 5, 2001, when we had known each other only two months and were not even dating yet :)
Natasha,
Thanks again for the walk and talk last evening. I appreciated your openness and welcome you to continue that. Thanks also for really relaxing me and calming me down. It's a treasure to have such a close friend with whom I can be completely myself. Thanks for listening to me ramble non-stop. It's nice that you pay attention even when I get boring. You really encouraged me last night, and I hope I can be just as kind to you sometime. God bless you for your Christ-like heart and uncanny sensitivity.
Lynn
I miss my best friend. I miss hearing about his day and knowing his heart and loving him there. I miss being that listening ear that he relied on so much, even though at times I resented such a responsibility :)
The rain falls. It pounds to the beat of my heart, longing to hear those familiar but distant sounds, even just one more time, and know that he is coming home to me...
It's about that time... This is the time I would be up in bed, waiting for Lynn to get home, knowing that if I wanted to sleep it had to be before he arrived, because otherwise he'd keep me up talking, but also knowing I was too anxious to see him and would undoubtedly stay awake until I heard those sounds... First the car, then the gravel, the car door, then the front steps, the front door... And soon enough he'd be bounding up the steps to our bedroom to see me. Sometimes, I'd pretend to be asleep thinking.. Oh no. He's full of energy tonight. I soooo want sleep!! But he knew :) And I couldn't keep away from him. Soon we'd start talking. His day would start flowing. He'd carry on until I kicked him out. Then, he'd go downstairs to our living room rocking chair and read running articles or food blogs online on his IPad... After an hour or so, if he still couldn't calm his brain down, he'd be back for more. He'd bound into bed, still full of energy, trying to let me sleep but unable to reign in his loving heart. I was after all, his best friend. So he'd share some more, then roll over and snore. Yet, again, I would sigh into his back, roll over to my own sleeping position, and stay up half the night pondering the things he'd shared... Unable to sleep by both the burdens Lynn had shared, the noise of his snoring (sometimes), and... sheer frustration that he'd done it to me again :).
Being married to my best friend was wonderful. We shared everything. We enjoyed every moment of each others company. The adjustment to parenthood and active ministry was hard, but we were determined to raise the standard and make it work. We loved each other.
This is the card I read from him tonight, written November 5, 2001, when we had known each other only two months and were not even dating yet :)
Natasha,
Thanks again for the walk and talk last evening. I appreciated your openness and welcome you to continue that. Thanks also for really relaxing me and calming me down. It's a treasure to have such a close friend with whom I can be completely myself. Thanks for listening to me ramble non-stop. It's nice that you pay attention even when I get boring. You really encouraged me last night, and I hope I can be just as kind to you sometime. God bless you for your Christ-like heart and uncanny sensitivity.
Lynn
I miss my best friend. I miss hearing about his day and knowing his heart and loving him there. I miss being that listening ear that he relied on so much, even though at times I resented such a responsibility :)
The rain falls. It pounds to the beat of my heart, longing to hear those familiar but distant sounds, even just one more time, and know that he is coming home to me...
Messy.
I've been away for a lovely weekend with the family. I am blessed beyond measure, but glad to be home. And anxious to write!!
What can I say about the spattering of thoughts and emotions that have crowded my mind and heart in these last several days. I think in particular, I have meditated on Romans 12:15, Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep.
Being a widow is unique. I am not divorced, or separated, or single... I am widowed. Re-entering society as a widow is not easy.
In all of my relationships, all of my comings and goings, there is a disconcerting awkwardness. No one knows what to say or how to be. I don't know what to say or how to be. I am committed to honesty, but find myself in all kinds of situations when I think, How can I be honest without making this person feel uncomfortable? How can I be real without breaking out into sobs that make me feel embarrassed and everyone around me awkward? How can I tell this person how I really feel when they have no way to relate to me and don't understand what I'm going through? How can I show people that I'm still here, but cannot hide or avoid the fact that the man I love is dead and I miss him more than I could ever say?
Sometimes, no one talks about it, and I want to scream. Don't you know my heart? Don't you know that my husband died? Not talking about it makes me feel like its taboo, inappropriate, too awkward for others. It makes me feel like people want to gloss over it as though he never existed. This causes me tremendous pain.
Other times, all people want to do is talk about my grief. I get tired of talking about it. Exhausted by it, and sometimes long for something light and unrelated!
Still others might approach me with pity. All they see is this poor broken widow. Oh dear, isn't that awful? You poor precious thing. Well, we just can't believe it. Etc. This makes me stand up a little straighter and want to hold my head up high. We're fine. We do not need to be defined by our grief. We do not need your pity.
Inevitably, I find myself in the presence of many happy families, loving relationships, smiling children, and solid marriages. This is a joyful experience that cuts deep with a bitter sword. There is no way around it. It hurts. Yet, I would want nothing less for these people, these families. Be blessed! Cherish your loved ones more deeply than you've ever done before!! and despite each others imperfections!!
As a society, culture, or community... How do we rejoice with those who rejoice and weep with those who weep? How do we get beyond the awkwardness, the elephant in the room sensation, or the inability to relate to someone else's struggle? I have concluded that it is not easily done and trying often wears me out.
This is messy. Grief is messy. I am messy. The grief and apathy and depression would keep me locked away in my bedroom, content to grieve alone... But you've all been there. You're all trying to be there for me. I am needy of your graciousness and have been so blessed by your generosity.
I am working hard to do this in a healthy way, as awkward and messy as it may be. Someday, my grief will be turned to joy (Jn 16:20) and smiling will come a little more easily...
What can I say about the spattering of thoughts and emotions that have crowded my mind and heart in these last several days. I think in particular, I have meditated on Romans 12:15, Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep.
Being a widow is unique. I am not divorced, or separated, or single... I am widowed. Re-entering society as a widow is not easy.
In all of my relationships, all of my comings and goings, there is a disconcerting awkwardness. No one knows what to say or how to be. I don't know what to say or how to be. I am committed to honesty, but find myself in all kinds of situations when I think, How can I be honest without making this person feel uncomfortable? How can I be real without breaking out into sobs that make me feel embarrassed and everyone around me awkward? How can I tell this person how I really feel when they have no way to relate to me and don't understand what I'm going through? How can I show people that I'm still here, but cannot hide or avoid the fact that the man I love is dead and I miss him more than I could ever say?
Sometimes, no one talks about it, and I want to scream. Don't you know my heart? Don't you know that my husband died? Not talking about it makes me feel like its taboo, inappropriate, too awkward for others. It makes me feel like people want to gloss over it as though he never existed. This causes me tremendous pain.
Other times, all people want to do is talk about my grief. I get tired of talking about it. Exhausted by it, and sometimes long for something light and unrelated!
Still others might approach me with pity. All they see is this poor broken widow. Oh dear, isn't that awful? You poor precious thing. Well, we just can't believe it. Etc. This makes me stand up a little straighter and want to hold my head up high. We're fine. We do not need to be defined by our grief. We do not need your pity.
Inevitably, I find myself in the presence of many happy families, loving relationships, smiling children, and solid marriages. This is a joyful experience that cuts deep with a bitter sword. There is no way around it. It hurts. Yet, I would want nothing less for these people, these families. Be blessed! Cherish your loved ones more deeply than you've ever done before!! and despite each others imperfections!!
As a society, culture, or community... How do we rejoice with those who rejoice and weep with those who weep? How do we get beyond the awkwardness, the elephant in the room sensation, or the inability to relate to someone else's struggle? I have concluded that it is not easily done and trying often wears me out.
This is messy. Grief is messy. I am messy. The grief and apathy and depression would keep me locked away in my bedroom, content to grieve alone... But you've all been there. You're all trying to be there for me. I am needy of your graciousness and have been so blessed by your generosity.
I am working hard to do this in a healthy way, as awkward and messy as it may be. Someday, my grief will be turned to joy (Jn 16:20) and smiling will come a little more easily...
Thursday, November 8, 2012
Glimpse.
I have had the most fascinating morning. There is no way to capture it all in this blog post, but I needed to get some of it down :)
I was meditating on Isaiah 41:10, an old favourite Bible verse God brought to my remembrance: You are my witnesses, says the Lord. And my servant whom I have chosen, that you may know me and believe me and understand that I am He. Before me there was no God formed, nor shall there be after me.
One of my favorite things about the Lord is how He reveals Himself, despite the churches poor efforts to bear witness to His name :).
Many years ago, God began revealing Himself to me, opening up my mind and heart to learn of Him, to know Him, beyond any particular denomination or theological context. Dare to trust me and seek me in the Word and by the Holy Spirit, no boxes, and no limits... Lynn was so good at this. He encouraged me in it. He had no fear when it came to branching out, exploration the true nature of God. He always said, God is big enough to handle it if I make a mistake. When we stay grounded in the Word and keep our eyes fixed on Christ, we can dare to trust Him to keep us and perfect us until the day of Christ Jesus...
Through this verse as well as others, God began in me a passion to know Him as He really is and not as we, the church, would make him. It stirred in me a passion to see God glorified in and through His church, that we would be true witnesses to the world of a living God, who breathes life and speaks perfect love, in pure blamelessness and holy otherness while being intimately close and making us His very dwelling place... This is the God I love and this is the God I serve!! He is the God of paradoxes, who cannot be contained within my historical context, my personal context of Biblical interpretation, or the extent of my own personal experiences of Him... He is always bigger and better than we think and He is who He is whether we get it or not! :) (I Am that I Am. Exodus 3:14)
This morning, as I was meditating on this verse, God brought me up into the rafters as I often call it, to remind me of the bigger picture at work in my life. He filled me with His Spirit, a renewed hope, and a glimpse... I caught just a glimpse of the woman He is making me to be. She looks vastly different from the girl I am most familiar with, that scared little girl, shy and afraid, hiding in her bedroom, praying for light and love. :) But I saw her, a woman strong and secure, grounded in love and powerful in the Spirit. God began this good work in me so long ago, but I didn't know if He could really do it!!! Surely it's not possible!!! With God all things are possible. (Matthew 19:26)
His faithfulness to complete His word is astonishing!!
As I was praying this morning, without warning, God stirred up in my heart the words I had written to Lynn: I see you. The real you. I know you. And I will always love you. I'm here. I'm yours. You'll always be my king.
In this song I wrote for Lynn, You are My King, God was teaching me about loving and honoring my husband. This time, though, He carried those words forth as a new expression of love directly from my heart to my King of Kings. I see you. The real you. I know you. And I will always love you. I'm here. I'm yours. You'll always be my King.
Lynn was my Beloved king, but God has always been King over my heart. His word to me is clear: You are My witness, says the Lord, and my servant whom I have chosen, that you might know me, and believe me, and understand that I am He. Before me there was no God formed, nor shall there be after me. I even I am the Lord and besides me there is no saviour. (Is 43:10, 11)
I was meditating on Isaiah 41:10, an old favourite Bible verse God brought to my remembrance: You are my witnesses, says the Lord. And my servant whom I have chosen, that you may know me and believe me and understand that I am He. Before me there was no God formed, nor shall there be after me.
One of my favorite things about the Lord is how He reveals Himself, despite the churches poor efforts to bear witness to His name :).
Many years ago, God began revealing Himself to me, opening up my mind and heart to learn of Him, to know Him, beyond any particular denomination or theological context. Dare to trust me and seek me in the Word and by the Holy Spirit, no boxes, and no limits... Lynn was so good at this. He encouraged me in it. He had no fear when it came to branching out, exploration the true nature of God. He always said, God is big enough to handle it if I make a mistake. When we stay grounded in the Word and keep our eyes fixed on Christ, we can dare to trust Him to keep us and perfect us until the day of Christ Jesus...
Through this verse as well as others, God began in me a passion to know Him as He really is and not as we, the church, would make him. It stirred in me a passion to see God glorified in and through His church, that we would be true witnesses to the world of a living God, who breathes life and speaks perfect love, in pure blamelessness and holy otherness while being intimately close and making us His very dwelling place... This is the God I love and this is the God I serve!! He is the God of paradoxes, who cannot be contained within my historical context, my personal context of Biblical interpretation, or the extent of my own personal experiences of Him... He is always bigger and better than we think and He is who He is whether we get it or not! :) (I Am that I Am. Exodus 3:14)
This morning, as I was meditating on this verse, God brought me up into the rafters as I often call it, to remind me of the bigger picture at work in my life. He filled me with His Spirit, a renewed hope, and a glimpse... I caught just a glimpse of the woman He is making me to be. She looks vastly different from the girl I am most familiar with, that scared little girl, shy and afraid, hiding in her bedroom, praying for light and love. :) But I saw her, a woman strong and secure, grounded in love and powerful in the Spirit. God began this good work in me so long ago, but I didn't know if He could really do it!!! Surely it's not possible!!! With God all things are possible. (Matthew 19:26)
His faithfulness to complete His word is astonishing!!
As I was praying this morning, without warning, God stirred up in my heart the words I had written to Lynn: I see you. The real you. I know you. And I will always love you. I'm here. I'm yours. You'll always be my king.
In this song I wrote for Lynn, You are My King, God was teaching me about loving and honoring my husband. This time, though, He carried those words forth as a new expression of love directly from my heart to my King of Kings. I see you. The real you. I know you. And I will always love you. I'm here. I'm yours. You'll always be my King.
Lynn was my Beloved king, but God has always been King over my heart. His word to me is clear: You are My witness, says the Lord, and my servant whom I have chosen, that you might know me, and believe me, and understand that I am He. Before me there was no God formed, nor shall there be after me. I even I am the Lord and besides me there is no saviour. (Is 43:10, 11)
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