I recently read an e-mail that included one of those Microsoft Power Point slide shows…you know, the kind of message that is supposed to inspire you to live a better life, be grateful for all you have, etc. Well…it worked!
The slide show was about all the people who just missed being at the World Trade Center on that fateful day—September 11, 2001. One man was late to work because it was his son’s first day of kindergarten. Another was late because he wore new shoes to work, which rubbed a blister so he stopped at a store on the way to the office to buy a band-aid. The theme of the slide show was to be thankful for all the little annoying delays in life because those things keep you just where God wants you.
As I pondered the message in the e-mail, I began to wonder if God will one day show us all the times He protected us throughout our lives. Will we finally realize the reason we were stopped by a train on the way to work, or late to a meeting because of traffic, or missed a flight because we misplaced something at home? I imagined being in awe as I might truly begin “to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ” (Ephesians 3:18).
I thought about how much I love my own children and how I wish they could truly understand, even at their young ages of 3, 2, and 3 months, just how much I love them. And I was reminded about a time just this past week when I found myself begging my 3 year old to trust me.
You see, my daughter had nasty scrape on her big toe. She had a large piece of skin hanging off of her toe (I know, TMI, right?!?) that I wanted to cut away so that her toe would not become infected. My daughter, of course, was kicking and screaming, “No Mommy, no! Leave me alone!” It crushed me that she didn’t trust me. That she couldn’t see I was trying to make things better for her. That she can not comprehend my love for her and realize that even if it does hurt, in the end, I have her best interest at heart.
And then I felt God’s gentle nudge. I felt as if He were saying, “See Jenny, I feel the same way sometimes. I love you more than you could ever imagine. Why won’t you just trust me? Even when it hurts?”
Let me encourage us all to trust Him…even when it hurts. He has great things planned for us. He has our best interest at heart. We can trust Him in all aspects of life. “He will not let your foot slip—he who watches over you will not slumber” (Psalm 121:3).
Friday, May 8, 2009
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
Emotional Baggage
Moving on is so hard to do.
For the past two months, we have been preparing to move away from a house we dearly love and a town we’ve called home for the past 8 years. We’re down to the last few weeks and it is really hitting hard.
During these past few months, I have packed away many of our things. However, along with our material possessions, my heart has had to pack away my emotional belongings as well.
I feel there is so much I am leaving behind. So many memories—some terrific, some painful.
My husband and I moved to this town shortly after we were married. This is the first home my husband and I owned. This is the birthplace of our first and second, third, and fourth children.
Though my daughter Alysa never arrived home to this house, we “experienced” her here. This is the home in which I discovered I was pregnant; it is the home in which my husband and I sat in shock after it was revealed to us that we were expecting twins; it is the home in which I prepared a room for Alysa and her identical twin sister, Alexa.
This is the home in which I cried my heart out as my twin daughters lain sick in their hospital beds. This is the home in which I screamed to the Lord in frustration, disbelief, and misunderstanding after Alysa passed away. This is the home in which I eventually gave it all to the Lord and prayed for Him to restore my soul. This is the home in which I poured my emotions into a journal, and in which I eventually wrote my book. This is the home in which, by the grace of God, I made peace with my daughter’s death.
And I thought I was okay. However, packing up all of my emotions is tough.
But perhaps more importantly is the question…how will I unpack? Just where, I wonder, will I place all of my emotional baggage?
Will I let it clutter our new beginning? Will I let it bring me down? Will I long for my home, for the town that is so dear? Will I let it keep the new place from ever feeling like “home?”
I hope not.
Because I strive to seek the Lord’s guidance in everything—I’ve learned to invite Him into my day each morning—I believe this move is God’s will for us. So, just as I wrote in my book, I can choose to focus on all that we’ve lost, or that we’re leaving behind, or I can choose to focus on the hope offered to me through my faith in God.
I’ve used these verses many times, but it is because they are the good ones (okay, it’s all good, but these are really enticing!). 1 Corinthians 2:9 reads, “No eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has conceived what God has prepared for those who love Him.” Ephesians 3:20 reads, “Now glory be to God, who by His mighty power at work within us is able to do far more than we would ever dare to ask or even dream of - infinitely beyond our highest prayers, desires, thoughts, or hopes” (LB).
I choose to cling to these truths!
Because of my faith, I believe I will be reunited with Alysa someday. Because I believe in the spiritual realm of things (for example, Ephesians 6:12, “For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms),” I believe Alysa is with me. I am not leaving her behind in the cemetery near our home. Instead, she is alive and very well and she will make the trip with us to our new destination.
Moving on is hard to do. But when we go with the grace of God, we can walk confidently; we can charge boldly into our future. “On the day I called, You answered me; You made me bold with strength in my soul” (Psalm 138:3 NASB).
For the past two months, we have been preparing to move away from a house we dearly love and a town we’ve called home for the past 8 years. We’re down to the last few weeks and it is really hitting hard.
During these past few months, I have packed away many of our things. However, along with our material possessions, my heart has had to pack away my emotional belongings as well.
I feel there is so much I am leaving behind. So many memories—some terrific, some painful.
My husband and I moved to this town shortly after we were married. This is the first home my husband and I owned. This is the birthplace of our first and second, third, and fourth children.
Though my daughter Alysa never arrived home to this house, we “experienced” her here. This is the home in which I discovered I was pregnant; it is the home in which my husband and I sat in shock after it was revealed to us that we were expecting twins; it is the home in which I prepared a room for Alysa and her identical twin sister, Alexa.
This is the home in which I cried my heart out as my twin daughters lain sick in their hospital beds. This is the home in which I screamed to the Lord in frustration, disbelief, and misunderstanding after Alysa passed away. This is the home in which I eventually gave it all to the Lord and prayed for Him to restore my soul. This is the home in which I poured my emotions into a journal, and in which I eventually wrote my book. This is the home in which, by the grace of God, I made peace with my daughter’s death.
And I thought I was okay. However, packing up all of my emotions is tough.
But perhaps more importantly is the question…how will I unpack? Just where, I wonder, will I place all of my emotional baggage?
Will I let it clutter our new beginning? Will I let it bring me down? Will I long for my home, for the town that is so dear? Will I let it keep the new place from ever feeling like “home?”
I hope not.
Because I strive to seek the Lord’s guidance in everything—I’ve learned to invite Him into my day each morning—I believe this move is God’s will for us. So, just as I wrote in my book, I can choose to focus on all that we’ve lost, or that we’re leaving behind, or I can choose to focus on the hope offered to me through my faith in God.
I’ve used these verses many times, but it is because they are the good ones (okay, it’s all good, but these are really enticing!). 1 Corinthians 2:9 reads, “No eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has conceived what God has prepared for those who love Him.” Ephesians 3:20 reads, “Now glory be to God, who by His mighty power at work within us is able to do far more than we would ever dare to ask or even dream of - infinitely beyond our highest prayers, desires, thoughts, or hopes” (LB).
I choose to cling to these truths!
Because of my faith, I believe I will be reunited with Alysa someday. Because I believe in the spiritual realm of things (for example, Ephesians 6:12, “For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms),” I believe Alysa is with me. I am not leaving her behind in the cemetery near our home. Instead, she is alive and very well and she will make the trip with us to our new destination.
Moving on is hard to do. But when we go with the grace of God, we can walk confidently; we can charge boldly into our future. “On the day I called, You answered me; You made me bold with strength in my soul” (Psalm 138:3 NASB).
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