Church Camp & Other Plans

Last night I dreamed of a place very dear to my heart and I'd be lying if I said it didn't make me very nostalgic. The kind of nostalgia that gives you an ache in your soul, like when you wake up the morning after your heart has been broken.  

When I reflect on my 31 years, I can honestly say there's no physical place on earth that I experienced God more than at Camp Schaefer. There's just something about that place, full of peace & hope and, like all things that eventually break your heart, memories. 

In my dream some things were different. The gravel had been replaced by foam rock so you could walk on it barefoot without pain. There was an indoor basketball court and a PA system that announced meal times. But most things were the same, and the people I cherished so deeply were there too.

If I had my way, I would have spent every summer of my life at that camp. But God had other plans.

If it were left up to me, my 22 year old self would have married my first love on those grounds. But God had other plans. 

If I was in charge, my best friend would still be on this earth, making me smile in his Gilligan hat and standing beside me leading worship. But God had other plans.

The thing about God is, He meets you where you are, but He doesn't leave you there. God met me at Camp Schaefer, every summer for 10 years. He held me in His arms, He healed my heart, He washed me with peace & grace. And then He moved me into the life He had laid out for me. 

Thank You, Lord, for that camp. Thank You for those sacred moments that shaped me & thank You for the friends and the memories. And thank You for moving me along. Thank You for my husband, whose heart is full of love for me, is the love of my soul and the one I do not deserve. Thank You for my son, the light of my life. When I look at him, my heart explodes & I catch a glimpse of how much You love Your children. Thank You for the mission field of my workplace & the work family that loves You. Thank You, Father for Your blessings. Thank You for Your other plans. 

Amen.

Happy Anniversary

Last week as Jeremiah & I were running our Saturday errands, a distracted driver pulled out in front of us.  Something about the situation made us speculate that she was going through some sort of struggle at the time which led us to a conversation about life.  Without going through a verbatim dissertation of what was said, we decided that life is a struggle.  Yes, it's beautiful & unpredictable with the occasional blessing or surprise, but overall, as a consequence of sin in the world, simply being alive means there will be struggle.  We all have them and they come in various forms... Money.  Family.  Career.  Coworkers.  Basic Needs.  At any given point in every life, there is a struggle going on.  If we are honest with ourselves, we can usually find several.  So then, if we are all damaged, with some sort of baggage, why do we enter into relationships with each other?  Surely we don't want to add to our problems by taking on someone else's, do we?  Nope.  We don't even really want someone to lighten the load or provide us an escape from reality.  We just want someone to go through the struggle with us.  We want to know we are not alone.   And that, my friends, is marriage.

Lately I have become keenly aware of how negatively people view marriage.  More often than not, I hear others tearing down their spouses rather than building them up.  I just don't get it.  This is the person that you chose to spend your life with.  This is the person who is supposed to be going through life's struggles with you.  Build them up!  Encourage them!  They have bad days too & sometimes life is too much for all of us so make the commitment to be a builder & not a wrecking ball in your marriage.

On that note, I'd like to thank my husband for a wonderful 4 years together.  For always being my silver lining & for not being a part of the struggle but holding my hand as we boldly tackle our journey together.  Happy Anniversary, Jeremiah... I love you. 

I'll have some respect with a side of reverence please.

ALERT - If you go to church with me and are offended easily, grab your steel-toed shoes, your toes may be in danger. ;)

Ok,  first of all, I'm not a parent.  I understand that fact and know that it prevents me from being an expert on the topic at hand.  However, I myself had a great set of parents and what I like to call, a structured, old-fashioned upbringing.  For example: "You can't date until you can drive", "If you put it on your plate, you eat it", "Children are to be seen, not heard", "You can wear makeup when you can buy it", "Don't sit your Bible on the floor" and "Never run in church".  Which brings me to the reason for this ranting blog.

I know there are things that I was taught growing up that aren't necessarily the norm for parents to teach their kids today.  I understand that times are different and parenting styles have adapted to the ever-changing world we live in.  I also know that God never changes; He is Holy, All-Powerful, Omnipotent, and worthy of all we can give - our time, talents, affection, love, praise, adoration and reverence.  I'm not sure when it happened, but somewhere along the line, someone forgot to teach the meaning of reverence.  I learned it as respect.  When you come before God, you address Him with respect, when you go to His house to worship, you conduct yourself with respect.  You don't run, scream, wrestle or cause disruption to others.  You don't sit and whisper during the sermon.  You respect His house & you honor Him with your actions.  

I enjoy hearing the laughter of children filling the church.  I enjoy seeing the smiling faces of the next generation in the halls and sanctuary.  I know that Jesus said "let the children come to me."  And I know that some of the things I was taught growing up may have been a little over the top.  But when I was nearly pushed over in the hall at church today as 3 tweens chased each other at top speed, and as I stepped over 2 boys wrestling with each other over a bean bag in the hallway after service, it took everything in me not to find a parent and request that they discipline their child.  I thought about saying something to the children (because if that were me at that age, an adult would have jerked me around and marched me straight to my parents), but I didn't.  I'm terrified that I'll upset someone because they've chosen an alternate form of raising their children that lacks true discipline or worse, they haven't taught their children about respect at all.

So here I sit... blogging about the topic, hoping that it will encourage those who are parents to remind their children that God deserves our best.  Our  best attitude, actions, words, and respect - not only in our everyday life, but on Sunday at His house too. 

Have you met My God??

"You're problem is just too big for this weekend."

I can still hear her words.  She didn't mean to be hateful, or to crush my spirit.  She just honestly did not know how to help and instead of just sitting with me while I prayed, she tried to talk me through it.  What she failed to do, was acknowledge that God is all-powerful, all-knowing, and totally in control. 

I was on a weekend retreat, away from all distractions, totally focused on my relationship with God.  I was 16 and had just learned that my mom was dying of stage 4 pancreatic cancer.  I knew it would take nothing short of a miracle for her healing and I had waited all weekend to lay my problem at the foot of the cross.  It was late, our prayer time was coming to a close, and I had some things to discuss with my Lord.

I don't remember her name, but I know she was one of the leaders of the weekend.  She stood by my side and asked why I was crying.  I briefly explained my situation to which she responded with the statement above.  I'm sure she didn't mean that my problem was too big for God... she just wanted me to wrap it up because she did not know how to respond to something so tragic.

I still thank God that I was much too mature to think that He was not in control.  That I knew better than to believe her comment.  That I had been taught, and truly believed that nothing was too big for God.  He has no time constraints, no deadlines and His Will is perfect.  I can come to Him anytime, anywhere and He is there, ready to listen to my heart.  As soon as the words left her lips, my human nature wanted to tell her a thing or two.  But I didn't, I just thanked her for her concern and asked her if I could continue praying alone.

To this day, I think about those words.  I think about what God has brought me to, and through in my time here and I am blessed by His constant presence in my life.  I want to encourage any of you who may struggle with wondering where God is in the midst of your problems.  He is right there.  He holds this world, and your life in His hands and there is NOTHING that is too big for Him. 

I don't know where this girl was in her relationship with the Lord, and that is none of my business.  But I do know that My God works all things together for the good of those who love Him and who are called according to His purpose.  That My God is the beginning and the end and that My God loves me.  I pray that you, no matter what your circumstance, will know that He loves you, He holds you and He has a plan for you.

Making Excuses

Sometimes it's hard not to notice just how much I've changed.  I look back at the shell of a person I used to be, and I can't help but thank God for constantly filling me & molding me into the woman I am today.

I've mentioned him before, the nameless individual who occupied most of my teenage years and on into my early twenties.  I was smitten by him, and that's putting it mildly.  It didn't matter what sort of emotional abuse he put me through, (and yes, ladies, don't sugar coat it, mind games & manipulation is MOST definitely abuse) I would always find a way to justify his actions... sometimes even going to such lengths as putting words in his mouth.  I didn't want anyone around me to see how much it hurt me; I didn't even want to admit it myself.  I would  convince myself that the harsh words, the neglect & the lack of emotion were all because he had a bad day or worse, the result of something I had done wrong.

I would tell stories to my family and friends to try to make him look better.  Granted, some were true... let's face it, if he were a jerk all the time, I'd like to think I wouldn't have stayed with him so long.  But for the most part, they were fictional stories.  Little anecdotes that I would concoct to give the illusion that he had expressed genuine love for me.  I'd say that we had plans, most of the time not knowing if we did or not, but hoping that he would call.  I'd sit alone in my car for hours... wasting my life, hoping he would change his mind about wanting to see me.  I'd call him, only to be ridiculed for wasting so much time.  I'd yell and cry and try to argue my point... most of the time to no avail.  I'd plan things with his family members, hoping he would see how much I wanted to be with him, only to be ignored again.  Then it hit me... why would I ever want to be with someone that I had to talk into loving me??

You can judge if you want to... me, my husband, and my family (who could see the truth all along) have all had a good laugh about it every now and then.  We were young and because of God's grace, time has changed us both.  I wish him well, this nameless ex, and I hope that I helped make him better for the next one.  In the words of Missy Higgins - "She will love him more than I could, she who dares to stand where I stood."

Recycled Words

This little thought is taken from my old myspace blog:

I've been thinking which I guess is what most people do before they post a blog.  I've been seriously cotemplating the phrase:

I would die for you.

We hear it all the time.  In music, movies and we even say it sometimes. 
But, how do we mean it??

I've decided that when we hear or say this phrase we automatically assume or mean an actual, physical death.  Like we love someone enough we would jump in front of a bullet for them.  Granted, that concept alone is a little far-fetched.  I mean, I love my friends but there are a select few whom I would jump in front of a bullet for. Chances are we all feel that same way deep down.  It's just human nature.  Our survival instincts are selfish and only the people who are part of the very core of our being can overshadow that selfishness.

That being said, I've come up with a new meaning of the above phrase.  My thought is that most of us have never considered the concept of dying for someone this intensely before, atleast I know I haven't.  So here are my "definitions":

I WOULD DIE FOR YOU.

1.)  I would physically surrender my life so that you may continue to live yours.

or

2.)  I am sacrificing who I am.  I am letting go of everything that has made me and I am allowing you to take over.  I am giving up those things that I thought made me complete and counting on you to fill that void.  I am saying goodbye to who I once was, completely and totally, just to be with you.  That which makes up who I am, the very soul of me... I am handing it over.  I am dying for you.

Almost spiritual isn't it?

Now, how many people would you really DIE for???

~~ Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come. ~~
2 Corinthians 5:17

A Different Kind of Pinocchio

I know exactly where it came from but I still blame my mother.  I remember when I was barely old enough to walk, she would take me with her to prayer group.  I would sit on the floor and play while she and several other ladies would pray for each other, their children and their families.  Some years later, my mother told me they prayed for me to have a 'spirit of discernment'.  Thanks, Mom.  I'm still learning just how involved that particular request was.

I've never really 'fit in'.  It doesn't matter the situation; the truth is, deep down, I never feel like I belong.  Sure, I had great friends growing up and we made amazing memories but I was always the 'responsible' one.  The one who thought things through, who wouldn't take risks or compromise my standards because something sounded 'fun'.  I wasn't a social outcast, I just never felt like I was fully invested.  My inner 'Jiminy Cricket' would drive me bananas and I would turn tail and run from just about everything that was in the gray area of life.  I still do.

This doesn't mean that I always do the right thing.  Oh, absolutely not!  It just means I live in a black and white world.  I can look at a situation and immediately know right from wrong.  I can meet someone and within the first minute I have analyzed their character and determined their true intentions.  I'm intuitive, insightful & chocked full of wisdom.  It's increasingly frustrating & it constantly wreaks havoc on my social life.  I don't know how to be a normal woman.  I don't know how to pick clothes or discuss men or accesorize.  I try, oh boy, do I try.  But I'm never comfortable, I'm always out of my element & I leave wondering if I've made a fool of myself, again.  I'm insecure in every moment because my mind is already 1,000 steps ahead, thinking and planning and knowing right from wrong.

This is a daily, current struggle for me.  I know discernment and wisdom are gifts from God.  I know that He has already allowed me to use these in powerful ways and that He brings people into my life who need His direction and guidance which I can provide.  But it's a lonely path I travel.  I wonder if anyone can relate?
My Jesus can.  He has walked these steps before and He knows the hardships of 'knowing'.  It is my prayer, for myself, that I will continue to be different, that I will embrace the gift that makes me odd and that God will keep right on using everything He has equipped me with.