The past few days for me have been dark and difficult. I have felt suffocated by the past, and far from God. The migraine contributed to my inability to think clearly, but no doubt a few packed days during Christmas contributed to my being overwhelmed.
It is harder for me than most people to decompress, especially through this time in my life of healing, bringing darkness into light, and being renewed. There is so much on my mind being brought to the surface in an effort to purge. The enemy always finds ways to attempt to thwart any milestones.
As restful and still as Advent has been, this past week has clouded my ability to hear from the Holy Spirit. As much as I know I am being grown, I creep back to the lie that nothing has changed at all. This is a dark place where I cling to the truth that I cannot "...lose heart. Even though our outward man is perishing, yet the inward man is being renewed day by day" (2 Corinthians 4:16).
About an hour ago, in the depth of my doldrums, my friend Tricia called. We have seen countless times of joy and tears together, but recently distance and our schedules keep us from seeing each other. Months, even half a year, might go by before we see each others' faces. Still, she is there, faithful to the end.
God knew I needed to hear her voice over the phone and dig down deep. She has faced her own sanctification and is able to relate and share similarities and differences. Tricia engaged me today with no questioning, no telling me to see someone else's point of view, but simply listening and encouraging. She could tell that the Lord gives me enough direction, which freed her up to just be there.
Thank You, Lord, for an old friend when I needed her. I am refreshed and more settled from having spoken to one who can take my mess and not try to be the fixer. In his wisdom, Solomon stated that "Two are better than one, because they have a good reward for their labor. For if they fall, one will lift up his companion" (Ecclesiastes 4:9-10). There is no substitute for the sovereign wisdom and direction of Christ, but it also feels good to have advocates with skin on.
Let Us Stand Firm in Truth
Tuesday, December 29, 2015
Monday, December 28, 2015
Migraine Postdrome
I never had migraines until adulthood. About five years ago, my doctor had me go for an MRI because of them, and we paid way too much to hear, "Yep, you're having migraines." In doing a little research, though, that reaction does seem to be the consensus; no one knows what causes migraines!
I decided to read up on mine in particular because they seem atypical. Only twenty percent of sufferers experience the aura, or spots, at the onset of a migraine. To me, it starts as if I've just had my photo taken with a flash and can still see the green glowing remnant. I know it's a migraine because that green dot won't go away, and within minutes I can see only half of the face of a person in front of me.
If I can quickly grab some Tylenol or Advil and a strong cup of coffee, the aura disappears after about fifteen minutes. At this point, most sufferers would describe intense pain. My migraines involve almost no pain at all, but something known in the medical world as the "postdrome." Instead of the searing headache most people experience, I feel wiped out, as if I had the flu. It's as if I've been hit with a wave of intense fatigue, one that lasts for hours, during which I can barely keep my eyes open. I feel cotton-headed, unable to focus. My limbs grow weak, and I can barely move. My thoughts are jumbled and irrational.
Yesterday around 4pm I was hit with the tiniest aura, and in less than five minutes, the lady standing in front of me looked like she had only half a face! I was quick with the ibuprofen and coffee, then all I could do was lie on the sofa with my eyes closed. The light doesn't bother me as it does most migraine sufferers; some even experience vomiting. By about 6pm, I had entered into the postdrome, and my only option was to lie sideways on my bed.
This morning, after being so bone-tired I slept all night, I was still mentally worn out. I couldn't read anything, not because it hurt, but because I just couldn't focus. I scraped by almost half the day in a mental fog, with a dull headache and unable to fully concentrate on anything without feeling like I'd run a marathon. I recalled waking in a fog during the night, desiring to turn over, but taking probably twenty or more minutes to work up the energy!
Is this part of a migraine, I wondered? When I went for the MRI, my migraines were more textbook: aura, intense pain, light sensitivity. I admit that if I have to suffer from them, I'll take the extreme fatigue over the blinding pain! But I couldn't help but wonder about this exhaustion that has begun accompanying my migraines.
Here is a succinct article from Scicurious entitled "The Postdrome: Migraine's Silent Sister." (Click on title). It has shed light on my symptoms and further shows that migraines can look very different depending on the individual. I invite any readers to share your experiences with migraines.
I decided to read up on mine in particular because they seem atypical. Only twenty percent of sufferers experience the aura, or spots, at the onset of a migraine. To me, it starts as if I've just had my photo taken with a flash and can still see the green glowing remnant. I know it's a migraine because that green dot won't go away, and within minutes I can see only half of the face of a person in front of me.
If I can quickly grab some Tylenol or Advil and a strong cup of coffee, the aura disappears after about fifteen minutes. At this point, most sufferers would describe intense pain. My migraines involve almost no pain at all, but something known in the medical world as the "postdrome." Instead of the searing headache most people experience, I feel wiped out, as if I had the flu. It's as if I've been hit with a wave of intense fatigue, one that lasts for hours, during which I can barely keep my eyes open. I feel cotton-headed, unable to focus. My limbs grow weak, and I can barely move. My thoughts are jumbled and irrational.
Yesterday around 4pm I was hit with the tiniest aura, and in less than five minutes, the lady standing in front of me looked like she had only half a face! I was quick with the ibuprofen and coffee, then all I could do was lie on the sofa with my eyes closed. The light doesn't bother me as it does most migraine sufferers; some even experience vomiting. By about 6pm, I had entered into the postdrome, and my only option was to lie sideways on my bed.
This morning, after being so bone-tired I slept all night, I was still mentally worn out. I couldn't read anything, not because it hurt, but because I just couldn't focus. I scraped by almost half the day in a mental fog, with a dull headache and unable to fully concentrate on anything without feeling like I'd run a marathon. I recalled waking in a fog during the night, desiring to turn over, but taking probably twenty or more minutes to work up the energy!
Is this part of a migraine, I wondered? When I went for the MRI, my migraines were more textbook: aura, intense pain, light sensitivity. I admit that if I have to suffer from them, I'll take the extreme fatigue over the blinding pain! But I couldn't help but wonder about this exhaustion that has begun accompanying my migraines.
Here is a succinct article from Scicurious entitled "The Postdrome: Migraine's Silent Sister." (Click on title). It has shed light on my symptoms and further shows that migraines can look very different depending on the individual. I invite any readers to share your experiences with migraines.
Tuesday, December 22, 2015
Molly's Gifts
My seven-year-old decided that she wanted to take money out of her piggy bank and buy gifts for family members. It started in Aldi when she saw a pillow and said it looked like something good for Nana. I was touched by her innocence in having no idea how much the item cost, nor caring. I'm too cheap to buy a fuzzy decorative pillow for $15!
She proceeded to name other things she would buy for the family if she had her money. "Pop needs those tools," she decided. Again, my eyes went straight to the tag: $19.99! Not that others aren't worthy, but all I could think of was my little girl giving up her own money when she didn't have to. My mind was on selfishness and protecting her, while Molly's was on selflessness.
Today we went out again, and she made her purchases. I couldn't believe how deliberate such a youngster could be about looking over everything, and making such careful decisions. She selected several purchases, paid out of her pink wallet, and proudly carried the plastic bag on the ride home. She even noted aloud that the amount that she had spent "wasn't that much." Color me convicted.
Molly took it upon herself to wrap her gifts, tie the bows, and even write the names on the tags. I watched and silently thanked God. A short while later, after all was finished and placed under the tree, the Spirit gave me a greater nudge: I can learn a lesson from this little one.
"Let the little children come to Me, and do not forbid them; for of such is the kingdom of heaven," Jesus said in Matthew 19:14. Here my daughter was content to share what she had, and I had tried to talk her out of it. Gulp. This is what my broken and contrite heart looks like in real life: seeing my stinginess for what it is, and worse, that I don't always give joyfully this time of year, but more as a "have to."
Christ said that children show us His kingdom, and as usual, He was right. The Lord loves a cheerful giver, and I pray to become more of one. Not only can I be frugal with my resources, but I often am with my time as well, finding it hard to devote all of myself to someone in need at a particular moment. I tend to get overwhelmed easily, and this is a matter of daily prayer.
She proceeded to name other things she would buy for the family if she had her money. "Pop needs those tools," she decided. Again, my eyes went straight to the tag: $19.99! Not that others aren't worthy, but all I could think of was my little girl giving up her own money when she didn't have to. My mind was on selfishness and protecting her, while Molly's was on selflessness.
Today we went out again, and she made her purchases. I couldn't believe how deliberate such a youngster could be about looking over everything, and making such careful decisions. She selected several purchases, paid out of her pink wallet, and proudly carried the plastic bag on the ride home. She even noted aloud that the amount that she had spent "wasn't that much." Color me convicted.
Molly took it upon herself to wrap her gifts, tie the bows, and even write the names on the tags. I watched and silently thanked God. A short while later, after all was finished and placed under the tree, the Spirit gave me a greater nudge: I can learn a lesson from this little one.
"Let the little children come to Me, and do not forbid them; for of such is the kingdom of heaven," Jesus said in Matthew 19:14. Here my daughter was content to share what she had, and I had tried to talk her out of it. Gulp. This is what my broken and contrite heart looks like in real life: seeing my stinginess for what it is, and worse, that I don't always give joyfully this time of year, but more as a "have to."
 |
| Molly's gifts |
Another truth that God lovingly put before me through my little one is that we must allow people to be a blessing to us, and use the gifts He has given us to bless others. If Molly seeks to minister to family members and show her love through giving gifts, then woe to me if I should try to stop her! The "Protector" in me feared that others might not appreciate the gifts, but that's the devil talking. As her mother, my role in this is to give guidance about proper items to purchase, as well as reasonable amounts to spend. Other than that, I'm ecstatic that the Lord prompted me to back off.
We have a group that gathers at our home every Wednesday evening for Bible study and a meal. One of our faithful attendees, Burney, roasts his own coffee. Every week, he loyally brings his supplies and provides us with steaming cups of home-roasted and freshly brewed coffee. If Burney can't make it one week, not only do we miss his presence, but his ministry of loving us through coffee. None of us would dream of taking Burney's ministry to us away from him; plus, we delight in the coffee!
The Lord is showing me that for Molly, this situation is similar. She had joy in selecting and purchasing those gifts on her own, in addition to making them look nice with the paper. Her childlike eyes saw past what she was giving up to what others were receiving, and the Lord put the sensation of satisfaction in her. Thank You, thank You, my Father, for teaching me more about your majesty through a little child!
Not only that...this same Father gave us the gift of His own Son, knowing that many of us wouldn't appreciate it, either. It was the heftiest price tag in history, but He did it for me. He understands about giving gifts, since he gave the greatest One; because of this, I know He sees Molly and delights in her gift-giving. I also know He sees my shortcomings and reminds me I'm not hopeless; the blood of His Gift washed my sins, and enables me to repent.
Thank You, Lord, for this real-life lesson in "sorrowful, yet rejoicing." That's how I feel at this moment. Sometimes I think self-awareness and sanctification are going to kill me. May I never forget the feeling, yet may You enable my heart to bear it. "God loves a cheerful giver" (2 Corinthians 9:7). May You transform my heart so I can fit that description.
Sunday, December 20, 2015
Yearning
This morning I've spent some time reflecting on this yearning that is such a part of my earthly journey, and of which I so often write. I talk about it a lot because as long as I live, it will never go away!
I considered Paul's words in Romans 7:18:
"...to will is present with me, but how to perform what is good I do not find."
What a fine wording of the broken and contrite spirit that David describes in Psalm 51! I, too, feel the pain of the desire for good, yet the sinfulness within me. Oh, how we need Christ, and how grateful I am for the counsel and help of the Holy Spirit!
As I studied this morning's selections in The Cloud of Witness, I came across part of a poem by Adelaide Anne Procter (1825-64) entitled "My God, I Thank Thee Who Hast Made." It beautifully spoke to the idea of "sorrowful, yet rejoicing," that I decided to search for the work in its entirety. The last two stanzas, not published in The Cloud, capture my yearning adequately:
"I thank Thee, Lord, that Thou hast kept
The best in store;
I have enough, yet not too much
To long for more;
A yearning for a deeper peace
Not known before.
I thank Thee, Lord, that here our souls,
Though amply blest,
Can never find, although they seek,
A perfect rest--
Nor ever shall, until they lean
On Jesus' breast!"
May we not cower in the face of earthly longing, but boldly hold the hand of the One Who lovingly takes us through it, refining us. It is scary and magnificent to know Him and be known.
I considered Paul's words in Romans 7:18:
"...to will is present with me, but how to perform what is good I do not find."
What a fine wording of the broken and contrite spirit that David describes in Psalm 51! I, too, feel the pain of the desire for good, yet the sinfulness within me. Oh, how we need Christ, and how grateful I am for the counsel and help of the Holy Spirit!
As I studied this morning's selections in The Cloud of Witness, I came across part of a poem by Adelaide Anne Procter (1825-64) entitled "My God, I Thank Thee Who Hast Made." It beautifully spoke to the idea of "sorrowful, yet rejoicing," that I decided to search for the work in its entirety. The last two stanzas, not published in The Cloud, capture my yearning adequately:
"I thank Thee, Lord, that Thou hast kept
The best in store;
I have enough, yet not too much
To long for more;
A yearning for a deeper peace
Not known before.
I thank Thee, Lord, that here our souls,
Though amply blest,
Can never find, although they seek,
A perfect rest--
Nor ever shall, until they lean
On Jesus' breast!"
May we not cower in the face of earthly longing, but boldly hold the hand of the One Who lovingly takes us through it, refining us. It is scary and magnificent to know Him and be known.
Friday, December 18, 2015
Article on When to Announce Pregnancy
Rarely do I write twice in one day...in one sitting!
I saw this beautiful article on Desiring God, and just had to share it. You see, I've been in the situation that Jasmine Holmes describes. Social media sure has made announcements interesting and also challenging.
Miscarriage and loss are something I know firsthand. In the future, I will write more on the topic. For now, be encouraged and enlightened by "There is No Shame in Loss."
I saw this beautiful article on Desiring God, and just had to share it. You see, I've been in the situation that Jasmine Holmes describes. Social media sure has made announcements interesting and also challenging.
Miscarriage and loss are something I know firsthand. In the future, I will write more on the topic. For now, be encouraged and enlightened by "There is No Shame in Loss."
A Broken and Contrite Heart
As we approach Christmas and the year's end, I inevitably feel the longing for brokenness to be fixed. It's always there, as it should be when we follow Christ, but it seems more pronounced this time of year. I can relate to the part of the song "Grown-Up Christmas List" that says, "Everyone would have a friend, and right would always win." There is a right way, and things go better for us when it wins.
That's just it...however God chooses to run things, however, as bleak as life can seem, we can be assured that right will win. My ways aren't His, and there's rejoicing in that! The hard part is that we have to deal with our trials now, and they can be harrowing. I'm figuring out that these are allowed so that we may press into Christ. As a parent, I, too, allow my children to see the hard side of life in order to help them grow.
Lately, the Holy Spirit has given me eyes to see something: the wickedness of my condition. We are born sinful, and although we still sin after Christ reveals Himself to us, He sees us as flawless. However, one other thing happens: the stuff inside my heart and mind that used to seem "okay" now seems really ugly. I'm learning the difference between the Holy Spirit's gentle, loving nudge about my sin, and the enemy's accusations. Lies and condemnation come from the Father of Lies, never from God. The Holy Spirit points out our sin lovingly, as we would do for our own children, calling us to repent and seek His help in rejecting what goes against God's way.
I feel the need to clarify all of that because often we hear all about our depravity, and yes, it's definitely our state (otherwise we wouldn't need Christ), but I really need to get that the Lord now counts me as righteous. However, I am thankful that my sin repulses me. My problem is that I tend to harp more on the nastiness of my sin, and less on the wonder of being washed in Christ's blood. Because of that, I can call on the Spirit who is inside of me, and move on in confidence!
Yesterday I was feeling the weight of my sin. Matthew talks about our heart being reflected by our speech (12:34). This wrecked me personally, plus the fact that even if hurtful words don't overflow, my heart still feels some horrible things toward people. I turned to David's words in Psalm 51, composed after he slept with Bathsheba, got her pregnant, and killed her husband. He says,
"The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit, a broken and contrite heart" (v. 17).
I love this. I can't stand this! The God of the universe works in ways that rip my heart out, yet make it new! His ways are beyond my comprehension. When they make no sense and hurt desperately, then I'm sure they are part of His refinement. The juxtapositions shake the world; the counterculture manner in which He operates makes me want to jump and shout, yet also fall in a heap at His feet, in awe of His glory and unpredictability.
Last night, as I felt the weight of my sin, all I could do was thank Him for my broken spirit and contrite heart. "Lord, may I always be so broken over my sin," I cried. It occurred to me, by the way, that the said "sin" is something we all do every day: getting frustrated with those we love, biting at them with sharpness in our words. Most people would say it wasn't that bad. Fully aware of this, I praised God that the "little" things weigh on me as much as the "big;" sins are not ranked in God's eyes, after all.
I see this with fresh eyes on a new morning. Forgiveness happens, lessons are learned, sanctification occurs. That I may not grow complacent and forget! I quote John Piper a lot, and he has a whole sermon on this topic, entitled "A Broken and Contrite Heart God Will Not Despise." In the final part, Piper says:
"Please don't make the mistake of thinking that you ever get beyond broken and contrite spirit in this life...Avoid thinking that if you have a broken and contrite spirit, then you're going to be an unhappy person. That's the devil talking."
He explains that our sin should always be before us, not to condemn us, but we should be constantly aware of the weight of it, and our desire for God's help in overcoming specific issues. We do not "get past" being broken and contrite, because we sin every day. This whole idea to me is so rich, so deep, and requires constant prayer and relying on Christ. Piper calls is "sorrowful, yet always rejoicing." How's that for a juxtaposition? Will you join me in being brave enough to pray that God's people will take on such a life?
On Another Note...
A huge "Happy Birthday!" to my fast-growing, tender-hearted, tennis-playing, nine-year-old girl today! It has been a joy to watch you grow from a whopping almost-ten-pound newborn into a gentle, considerate, servant of the Lord. I learn much from observing your even, seldom-rattled disposition, and continue to pray that God will work out your salvation, growing you in your prayers, reading of the Word, and desire to know Him and be known. You are one Good Egg, and Mama loves you more than I can say.
That's just it...however God chooses to run things, however, as bleak as life can seem, we can be assured that right will win. My ways aren't His, and there's rejoicing in that! The hard part is that we have to deal with our trials now, and they can be harrowing. I'm figuring out that these are allowed so that we may press into Christ. As a parent, I, too, allow my children to see the hard side of life in order to help them grow.
Lately, the Holy Spirit has given me eyes to see something: the wickedness of my condition. We are born sinful, and although we still sin after Christ reveals Himself to us, He sees us as flawless. However, one other thing happens: the stuff inside my heart and mind that used to seem "okay" now seems really ugly. I'm learning the difference between the Holy Spirit's gentle, loving nudge about my sin, and the enemy's accusations. Lies and condemnation come from the Father of Lies, never from God. The Holy Spirit points out our sin lovingly, as we would do for our own children, calling us to repent and seek His help in rejecting what goes against God's way.
I feel the need to clarify all of that because often we hear all about our depravity, and yes, it's definitely our state (otherwise we wouldn't need Christ), but I really need to get that the Lord now counts me as righteous. However, I am thankful that my sin repulses me. My problem is that I tend to harp more on the nastiness of my sin, and less on the wonder of being washed in Christ's blood. Because of that, I can call on the Spirit who is inside of me, and move on in confidence!
Yesterday I was feeling the weight of my sin. Matthew talks about our heart being reflected by our speech (12:34). This wrecked me personally, plus the fact that even if hurtful words don't overflow, my heart still feels some horrible things toward people. I turned to David's words in Psalm 51, composed after he slept with Bathsheba, got her pregnant, and killed her husband. He says,
"The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit, a broken and contrite heart" (v. 17).
I love this. I can't stand this! The God of the universe works in ways that rip my heart out, yet make it new! His ways are beyond my comprehension. When they make no sense and hurt desperately, then I'm sure they are part of His refinement. The juxtapositions shake the world; the counterculture manner in which He operates makes me want to jump and shout, yet also fall in a heap at His feet, in awe of His glory and unpredictability.
Last night, as I felt the weight of my sin, all I could do was thank Him for my broken spirit and contrite heart. "Lord, may I always be so broken over my sin," I cried. It occurred to me, by the way, that the said "sin" is something we all do every day: getting frustrated with those we love, biting at them with sharpness in our words. Most people would say it wasn't that bad. Fully aware of this, I praised God that the "little" things weigh on me as much as the "big;" sins are not ranked in God's eyes, after all.
I see this with fresh eyes on a new morning. Forgiveness happens, lessons are learned, sanctification occurs. That I may not grow complacent and forget! I quote John Piper a lot, and he has a whole sermon on this topic, entitled "A Broken and Contrite Heart God Will Not Despise." In the final part, Piper says:
"Please don't make the mistake of thinking that you ever get beyond broken and contrite spirit in this life...Avoid thinking that if you have a broken and contrite spirit, then you're going to be an unhappy person. That's the devil talking."
He explains that our sin should always be before us, not to condemn us, but we should be constantly aware of the weight of it, and our desire for God's help in overcoming specific issues. We do not "get past" being broken and contrite, because we sin every day. This whole idea to me is so rich, so deep, and requires constant prayer and relying on Christ. Piper calls is "sorrowful, yet always rejoicing." How's that for a juxtaposition? Will you join me in being brave enough to pray that God's people will take on such a life?
On Another Note...
A huge "Happy Birthday!" to my fast-growing, tender-hearted, tennis-playing, nine-year-old girl today! It has been a joy to watch you grow from a whopping almost-ten-pound newborn into a gentle, considerate, servant of the Lord. I learn much from observing your even, seldom-rattled disposition, and continue to pray that God will work out your salvation, growing you in your prayers, reading of the Word, and desire to know Him and be known. You are one Good Egg, and Mama loves you more than I can say.
Saturday, December 12, 2015
Right Judgment & Beulah Land
In my last post, I mentioned my anger about situations I can't change. This has been on my mind the past few days, especially how desperately I desire grace for others. James 4:6 states, "But He gives more grace." How I long for this, to see people not by their sins, but as image-bearers loved by God, washed clean when they trust in His Son.
We are a "doing" society, but spiritual growth is about waiting, anticipating, and trusting, like Advent. The desire is there, but I'm powerless to snap my fingers and make something happen. God's way involves time, lots of it, and slow, painful change. This morning, I read further in James:
"Draw near to God and He will draw near to you. Cleanse your hands, you sinners; and purify your hearts, you double-minded." (4:8, my italics)
Cleansing my hands and purifying my heart from the past are a part of the sanctifying mind-renewal currently happening in my life. It's not an overnight transformation, but James reminds me that it does eventually happen. I keep asking, and God keeps working beyond my comprehension. There is comfort in the fact that He does it, and I don't need to understand. I needed the reminder that I am, indeed, double-minded. My friend Christina says that a pastor-friend of hers calls it, "dancing with the old skeletons in your closet." James takes it a step further: "He is a double-minded man, unstable in all his ways" (1:8). The solution? Back to the verse in pink: be desperate and cry out to God to cleanse me and purify my heart.
As the Lord would have it, a new Advent theme starts today for this week in The Cloud of Witness: Right Judgment. There is this lovely prayer for the week:
"Grant us by Thy Holy Spirit to have a right judgment in all things, and evermore to rejoice in His holy comfort." (page 19)
We ask, and He puts the right ideas before us, whether through Scripture, readings, sermons, or an apt word from others. Here is a stanza from a poem called "Compensation" by Frances Ridley Havergal, which is a selection from my Cloud reading today:
"How shall we judge their present, we who have never seen
That which is past for ever, and that which might have been?
Measuring by ourselves, unwise indeed are we!
Measuring what we know by what we can hardly see."
My prayer today is that I would trust Christ to do the measuring of all things. His barometer is accurate; mine is flawed. That He would cleanse my hands and purify my heart, enabling me to rest in His perfect judgment of myself and others!
On another note....
Today is the fourth anniversary of my husband's dear Granny Beulah leaving this world for Heaven. She was an integral part of my salvation, used by God directly to give me understanding of the Gospel through her country church in Greenville, SC. In 2003, she had moved up to the mountains, and we enjoyed many days of laughter, crying, and simple living together.
Granny Beulah was born in the mountains of Cocke County, Tennessee, in May of 1926. She had two sons, one being my father-in-law, the other killed on Christmas Eve, 1971, by a drunk driver. I noted that God saw fit to usher her into His presence and reunite her with her beloved son, Harold, exactly almost forty years after his death.
Memories of Granny Beulah include boiled cabbage and turnip greens, stories of "Daddy," who was "Doc Fish" (the area vet and people-doctor), a shabby Bible, trips with her church group, games of Skip-Bo, McDonald's fillet o-fish sandwiches and fries, hymns sung high-pitched, tea so sweet it made you thirsty, and hours of game shows ("You ever watch that 'Millionaire'?"). Her house, and later her room at my in-laws,' was vintage and comfortable; not fancy, just inviting. She loved stuffed animals, and could hem or fix a pair of pants perfectly in no time. She had all day to spend doing important things, like loving her family.
We are a "doing" society, but spiritual growth is about waiting, anticipating, and trusting, like Advent. The desire is there, but I'm powerless to snap my fingers and make something happen. God's way involves time, lots of it, and slow, painful change. This morning, I read further in James:
"Draw near to God and He will draw near to you. Cleanse your hands, you sinners; and purify your hearts, you double-minded." (4:8, my italics)
Cleansing my hands and purifying my heart from the past are a part of the sanctifying mind-renewal currently happening in my life. It's not an overnight transformation, but James reminds me that it does eventually happen. I keep asking, and God keeps working beyond my comprehension. There is comfort in the fact that He does it, and I don't need to understand. I needed the reminder that I am, indeed, double-minded. My friend Christina says that a pastor-friend of hers calls it, "dancing with the old skeletons in your closet." James takes it a step further: "He is a double-minded man, unstable in all his ways" (1:8). The solution? Back to the verse in pink: be desperate and cry out to God to cleanse me and purify my heart.
As the Lord would have it, a new Advent theme starts today for this week in The Cloud of Witness: Right Judgment. There is this lovely prayer for the week:
"Grant us by Thy Holy Spirit to have a right judgment in all things, and evermore to rejoice in His holy comfort." (page 19)
We ask, and He puts the right ideas before us, whether through Scripture, readings, sermons, or an apt word from others. Here is a stanza from a poem called "Compensation" by Frances Ridley Havergal, which is a selection from my Cloud reading today:
"How shall we judge their present, we who have never seen
That which is past for ever, and that which might have been?
Measuring by ourselves, unwise indeed are we!
Measuring what we know by what we can hardly see."
My prayer today is that I would trust Christ to do the measuring of all things. His barometer is accurate; mine is flawed. That He would cleanse my hands and purify my heart, enabling me to rest in His perfect judgment of myself and others!
On another note....
Today is the fourth anniversary of my husband's dear Granny Beulah leaving this world for Heaven. She was an integral part of my salvation, used by God directly to give me understanding of the Gospel through her country church in Greenville, SC. In 2003, she had moved up to the mountains, and we enjoyed many days of laughter, crying, and simple living together.
Granny Beulah was born in the mountains of Cocke County, Tennessee, in May of 1926. She had two sons, one being my father-in-law, the other killed on Christmas Eve, 1971, by a drunk driver. I noted that God saw fit to usher her into His presence and reunite her with her beloved son, Harold, exactly almost forty years after his death.
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| Beulah in younger days, 1943 |
Granny, thanks for your love and attention. Those from your generation are fast leaving us, and we will soon know no more like you. What a privilege to have had you as my own grandmother. I delight in knowing that you are in Beulah Land!
Tuesday, December 8, 2015
Advent and Yearning
I admit, not only have I never celebrated the Advent season for the time of anticipation and waiting that it is, I have not even really thought much of it. Yes, I have toned down my Christmas-season stress over the past few years, but this is the first time I have experienced Advent. I feel a marked yearning for more than this world has to offer, longing for the coming of Christ, the only One Who will be able to straighten the crooked places.
I decided over the last two or three years to start cutting out things that aren't bad, but that add too much to my life because they take away my focus on the real reason for Christmas. My decorations are minimal, yet fun enough. We love to bake, but feel no pressure. I can't recall the last Christmas party we attended, and I no longer invest my time in stressful pageant-type productions. Before I become dubbed Mrs. Scrooge, let the record show that I have experienced more Jesus and more direction, and less pulling out my hair.
My copy of The Cloud of Witness pointed my heart toward Advent, making me excited about daily centering my thoughts and desires on Christ: why He came, why we need Him, and especially, the constant yearning I have for Him to set our crumbling world straight. How can we be still long enough to ponder our Lord when we're drowning in social gatherings, worried about cookie parties, destroying part of the kitchen to make it seem like the elf did it, or standing in line to have a photo opportunity with Santa? Christian friend, let's reevaluate why we feel the need to keep up with how the world defines Christmas.
Make no mistake, I enjoy a good Christmas movie, savor the lights on our tree, and even admit to being one of the only people who likes Paul McCartney's "Wonderful Christmastime." But I'm grateful that the Holy Spirit is calling me to be still, to wonder at the One who is "the light of men," through which "all things were made" (John 1:3-4). None of what I post is said out of self-righteousness, but rather from conviction, to "renounce the hidden things...by manifestation of the truth" (2 Corinthians 4:2). I want all believers to know that we don't have to be in bondage to customs that, when it comes down to it, mean squat (as we say in the south).
Having said that, I will confess that, although my heart is being slowly healed, I remain angry. I'm angry that my heart has been shattered in the first place, and about many things that I'm not at liberty to disclose on a public blog. I'm furious that the poor decisions of others have cost me parts of my life. I'm frustrated that forgiveness doesn't come easily, and that instability has been a part of my life for so long. Please join me in prayer for continued renewal in this area, and know that I am an advocate for anyone's healing from brokenness.
I'm learning that it's okay for me to feel this way for a time. Emotion has to be aroused in God's people for the wrongs that plague us as humans. Why are we afraid to admit that we yearn passionately, to the point of tears, for Jesus to return and make all things new? As indignant as I am, this Advent season I know that Christ came for all of this ugliness, and in His time, "all things work together for good to those who love God" (Romans 8:28). I can be real with Him, my Creator, Who knows my heart anyway. Drawing closer to Him during this time of quiet anticipation helps me realize that He, too, yearns to right the wrongs, and that Christ is the only One Who can. The Advent season helps a broken heart to have hope.
"Because the creation itself also will be delivered from the bondage of corruption into the glorious liberty of the children of God. For we know that the whole creation groans and labors with birth pangs together until now." Romans 8:21-22
"Even so, come Lord Jesus!" Revelation 22:20
Thursday, December 3, 2015
Allergy-Free Gingerbread
I didn't come into adulthood with traditions from childhood. It has been a welcome revelation that traditions had to start somewhere, and my heart is warmed by ones that my family and I now enjoy.
I am learning that traditions need not be elaborate or costly. Sweet memories are made by an atmosphere of love, warmth, and something familiar. My girls and I have come to treasure the simple tradition of making gingerbread this time of year.
During our baking and decorating, we had a conversation about Christmas being Jesus's birthday. Our culture, I explained, has taken many fun and good things and turned them into the focus of Christmas instead. I clarified that we can take pleasure in baking, however; Christ is the giver of the joy we feel in spending time together adding ingredients, mixing, listening to Christmas tunes in the background, and adorning the baked goods. He is the Creator of all, and we can delight in His presence and the good things He has bestowed on us. We can do everything to His glory, and be glad in the freedom that Emmanuel came to give us.
This recipe came about when my baby was less than a year old and allergic to egg. I wanted to make a gingerbread that she would be able to eat, and somewhere (probably the Internet) I found this. The timing was perfect, as I discovered I was in early pregnancy with my second daughter, and the ginger and spices soothed my queasiness. To this day, I tell this now seven-year-old that she is made of gingerbread!
My older girl grew out of her allergy, but this time of year wouldn't be the same without this recipe. The spicy fragrance and taste have turned into welcome and comforting pleasures on cold, dreary December days.
To make allergy-free gingerbread (not gluten-free), you will need:
I am learning that traditions need not be elaborate or costly. Sweet memories are made by an atmosphere of love, warmth, and something familiar. My girls and I have come to treasure the simple tradition of making gingerbread this time of year.
During our baking and decorating, we had a conversation about Christmas being Jesus's birthday. Our culture, I explained, has taken many fun and good things and turned them into the focus of Christmas instead. I clarified that we can take pleasure in baking, however; Christ is the giver of the joy we feel in spending time together adding ingredients, mixing, listening to Christmas tunes in the background, and adorning the baked goods. He is the Creator of all, and we can delight in His presence and the good things He has bestowed on us. We can do everything to His glory, and be glad in the freedom that Emmanuel came to give us.
This recipe came about when my baby was less than a year old and allergic to egg. I wanted to make a gingerbread that she would be able to eat, and somewhere (probably the Internet) I found this. The timing was perfect, as I discovered I was in early pregnancy with my second daughter, and the ginger and spices soothed my queasiness. To this day, I tell this now seven-year-old that she is made of gingerbread!
My older girl grew out of her allergy, but this time of year wouldn't be the same without this recipe. The spicy fragrance and taste have turned into welcome and comforting pleasures on cold, dreary December days.
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| Decorating gingerbread is an exciting art project! Simply buy white icing, divide it, and drop in green and red food coloring. Sprinkles are an inexpensive and fun addition. |
1/2 cup butter
1/2 cup white or brown sugar
1/2 cup molasses
3 and 1/2 cups flour
1/4 tsp. salt
1/4 tsp. cloves
1/2 tsp. baking soda
1/2 tsp. cinnamon
1/2 tsp. ginger
1/2 tsp. nutmeg
And, this year, we threw in a shake or two of allspice!
Blend butter and sugar with mixer until fluffy. Combine molasses and 5 tbsp. water in a separate bowl. Stir this into the butter mixture. In a separate (big) bowl, sift together the remaining ingredients. Take 1/2 cup at a time of this sifted mixture and sift it again into the butter mixture, stirring as you go, until all of this mixture is well blended into dough.
To cut the dough into cookies, I put an old Christmas tablecloth on the kitchen table, and place cutting boards (one per child) on the table. Shake flour onto the boards, because the dough will be sticky. Go ahead and preheat your oven to 350. Then, it's time for the kids to take charge! They use the rolling pin (or pound the dough down with their fingers), and decide which of the many cutters they want to use. Some will be thin, and others may end up thick and cake-like. It's okay to put the cookies close together on the baking sheet; they will not spread much. Bake about 8 minutes, cool for a few minutes on the baking sheet, then hand them over to the kids. I like to have the finished products rest on cooling racks, where the icing has a chance to dry a little.
My husband is not a fan of frosting, and this recipe produces enough cookies to leave many plain. They are scrumptious with morning coffee, as a pick-me-up between meals, or to cleanse your palate after supper. I hope your family will treasure this lovely gingerbread as much as we do. From our house to yours!
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