Tears

I spent the day preparing my oldest daughter for what I felt was a possibility-a breakup. And sure enough, that's what happened. Her first real breakup, and I think my heart was breaking right alongside hers. 

It brought back my own painful teenage break ups, one in particular that was particularly hard to shake. 

I told her the story of how I pleaded with God to just let me have the man I loved! Bring him back to me!  I bargained and promised and prayed...and God said a resounding NO!! 

How do I know this? Because for some weird reason I kept missing all of his calls and he missed mine. (Before cells, caller ID, and even machines!) Every attempt to be where he was fell apart for some strange reason. At the time I just couldn't explain it. As I learned more about God, I began to understand that it was His answer. He was saying, "he is not the one I have set apart for you, no not even to date! No, I do not want you in his company. He is not good for you. He is not honorable or faithful and not who I want for you!" He said "no". 

I got the man I loved. It's just not the man I thought it would be! Had I done things in my own flesh...oh boy, what a mess that would have been!  Now, obviously my daughter is not looking for a husband, but dating is practice. Maybe this was also a "no", as maybe the relationship was not what God wants for her right now. 

It still hurts, and so daddy walked through the door with a big teddy bear and some flowers, and spent some time talking with her. One of her youth staff stopped by with a care package and some hugs to lift her spirits as well. Her sister and I sat with her all afternoon, resisting the urge to maim the offending boy!  More importantly reminding her of how valuable she is to us. 

Bottom line is-we are raising a great girl with high standards and high morals. We are raising her to honor herself and respect herself. She has done that. She now asks where are the boys who are being raised the same? Good question. Where are they? God knows and is preparing him as we speak. It might just take awhile. It is truly hard to raise good girls in a hard world with a lot of loose morals and standards. 

If our sweet girl crosses your mind, please lift her up in prayer.  Thank you...

How Big is Your Brave?

We finally got a nice sunny day, so I made the girls and I a nice lunch and we at it on the deck yesterday. That might seem pretty boring to some, but making lunch and being able to move was a big step for me. My back is finally loosening up after 8 days. I'm pretty sure I either strained or sprained a ligament, which was pretty painful, but hey, it didn't destroy me.

So, I had my ipod music going and the song, "Brave" by Sara Bareilles came on. We were sitting there kind of visiting, singing, and humming a bit, when Serena said, "hey mom, how big is your brave?"
Without thinking, I made my fingers into a tiny pinch which eventually grew into a big sweeping motion, and finally ended with my finger pointing to the sky. "That's how big my "brave" is," I said. "God is my brave. I'm not brave at all without Him."

She smiled and we went on visiting, singing, and humming...

How big is your brave?

"Lend Me Your Hope"

I'm re-reading a book that has helped me time and time again when I've struggled in my faith. It's kind of a "reset" button for me in some ways. It's practical, even beginning with a chapter titled, "Who are you?" It's a book called Victory Over Darkness, by Neil T. Anderson (1990). I picked it up as I do most of my Christian books-at some kind of garage sale or book sale.

What caught my attention at the beginning was this poem, authored by some famous person by the name of "Anonymous" (just love those fame-crazy people!)

Lend me your hope for awhile,
I seem to have mislaid mine.
Lost and hopeless feelings accompany me daily,
pain and confusion are my companions.
I know not where to turn;
looking ahead to future times does not bring forth
images of renewed hope.
I see troubled times, pain-filled days, and more tragedy.

Lend me your hope for awhile,
I seem to have mislaid mine.
Hold my hand and hug me;
listen to all my ramblings, recovery seems so distant.
The road to healing seems like a long and lonely one.

Lend me your hope for awhile,
I seem to have mislaid mine.
Stand my me, offer me your presence, your heart, and your love.
Acknowledge my pain, it is so real and ever present.
I am overwhelmed with sad and conflicting thoughts.

Lend me your hope for awhile;
a time will come when I will heal,
and I will share my renewal, hope and love with others.

That's pretty powerful stuff to me, as I've felt all of those things these past few months. As humans we all feel these things at one time or another, as life can hand out some pretty sad and scary situations. We ask for God's hope, his peace, and his comfort while we wait for whatever it is we need to be "okay", when in fact, "okay" might not happen for a long time. What then? We need that hope forever.

That hope first comes from God, but it also needs to come from others. I have found that secondary hope in people. While we are in church transition, obviously we don't have church family support. That is really hard. But I do have a friend from our old  church who has emailed me a few times a week, prayed fervently for me, and cares for me very much. I have held on to her hope. She is suffering from illness too and needs my hope. So I pray for her, email her, give her my hope for her healing. God provides. While I lost the friend I never thought would desert me in this time and has always been there for me, he brought me a friend who has not left my side. She has also lost a dear friend she never thought would leave her, and I give a nod to God, because he has a way of working these things out for our good. I also give thanks for my online support I have found (or perhaps found me) through my blog. To have met 2 wonderfully supportive and wise Christians, Sir Norm and Angela, was also a gift from God, who knew my thoughts needed a response and those responses have given me such hope. Those prayers have lifted me on my darkest days and brought joy to my heart. Hope to a broken heart and a wavering faith at times. Did I ever mention how I met Angela? I might save that for another special post! With a special photo!

My parents and my husband continue to lend me hope, as they continue to reassure me, "You will get better, just hang in there." It came in the way of a mom picking up her son the other day who said to me, "Of course you will enjoy your grandchildren one day. You'll get past this." She has no idea what I've really been going through, and gave me that hope to hold onto. Hope comes in knowing others are struggling with bigger things than me. That even though this seems like a mountain, it could be a hill to someone else. This might be a rough valley, but things could be worse. I could be a single mom, I could have lost a job, I could have little ones, and on and on. Instead I have a wonderful husband who is a great provider and I have a beautiful home and a peaceful place to recover. Some people don't have that. Some people have no hope at all. Yes, this is my struggle, and it will have an end, and the only antidote right now is hope.

H   old
O   n
P   ain
E   nds

Thank you God for lending me your HOPE. Thank you friends I mentioned and did not mention for lending me your hope. And as the last sentence of the poem says,

" a time will come when I will heal, and I will share my renewal, hope, and love with others."