Category: christianity
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Drawing Us In
Easter has passed and I kind of want to rewind time and go through Holy Week once more. Or, I actually want to live in the mindset I had during Holy Week. I had reminders all around my house, from Facebook posts, and from my fellow christian bloggers. I love different perspectives and I love to see what things God points out to other people. My faith is strengthened through other people’s faith.
Easter Sunday was perfect. I could not have asked for a better day. Church, family, and good food filled my soul. Monday, I felt good…Tuesday, I was fine. Today,though, my mind is yearning for last week. The love and peace and the thinking of Jesus’ journey to the cross had me right where I should be all the time. Now life is back to normal and I need a jumpstart…hard to believe I need one so soon. But, God knows when we are ready for one…who am I to question?
Time to dig deeper in the bible. Time to dig deeper in prayer. Right now, I have a three year old trying to dig deeper as well. Oliver has been asking a lot of questions about faith, heaven, and death. He has been asking many questions over and over, but each time getting a little more in depth.
“Mommy, when do we go to heaven? When we die? When do we die? How do they get there? Is heaven in our hearts? How would we get in our hearts if it is? Is there no nighttime in heaven? Does Jesus live in our hearts? When will Easter be here again?”
The list goes on and on. He does not take simple answers to his questions. He wants the real answers. I answer them but then the next day the questions resurface. I am glad they do. I want my kids to want to know about God. Many things about faith take repeating. I know that from experience.
I guess it goes to show just how amazing God is. It doesn’t matter what age you are or what stage you are in your faith. He draws you in from where you are. He never wants you to stop yearning for more.
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10 Reasons To Come Back To Faith
Not long ago, I came across this. Although it is geared toward Lutherans, it can be used for any. It may not be the entire answer, but to me it is a start. People who have left the church, or who are scared to start going to church need to hear these things.
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And the Rooster Crows(Holy Saturday)
“Mommy, today is Good Friday because Jesus died for our sins. But it was Sad Friday for Mary because her son died,” Luke said during our bible study yesterday.
When those words came out of his mouth it made me proud that he was thinking beyond the surface. His statement is something that I usually skim past. Yes, I have pictured her pain, but then I move quickly through to the next part.
Recently, something horrible happened and it caused a deep pain in me…for the person involved, the people who care about this person, and for this world that sometimes seems hopeless…
When something bad happens to someone I care about, I always feel guilt. I feel as though I could have done something to prevent the situation. I over-think every aspect of what happened and see where I possibly failed. I could have done more, I could have said more, and I definitely could have prayed more.
I bet that is exactly how the people who loved Jesus felt today. Yesterday would have been hard and the pain whirled through every part of their being. Today, though, I can picture Mary questioning her every move, word, and thought. There was probably a part of her that knew her son’s calling was beyond human reasoning…but still she was his mother. Mother’s feel a need to protect their children, even when they know they don’t need it.
And now, think of how the disciples must have felt. Peter. In many ways I feel like a Peter. I am devoted and passionate, but do I always step up in the hard times? Would I put my life on the line? I can totally hear the rooster crow many times in my life.
What more could the disciples have done? The hopelessness they must have felt. Did they have doubt? Oh yes. I cannot fathom all that must have been going through their heads. Jesus told them what had to happen…but can human minds really grasp that? We can very easily question them, they walked with Jesus…they knew him. But then he was dead. He was really dead.
Today may be a day of pain and of wondering what else could have been done. But we need to remember what tomorrow and the next day brings. Trust in God’s plan. Know that when there is more we could have done that we can do more the next time. We need rooster crows as reminders and we need Christ’s blood because God knew we couldn’t do it on our own.
This life will bring pain and regret, but hope is never fully lost.
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Dirty Little Feet
Bathtime. I can’t say I dread or despise it. It is more of a “going through the motions” time for me. There are always things I’d rather be doing or things that I feel are more productive. My oldest is pretty independent in the bath. My three year old, of course, is not. I am forced to stop what I am doing to sit in there with him. I should look forward to the downtime but I do not. Maybe it is because I’d rather spend my downtime reading with him––instead of washing his dirty feet. Don’t get me wrong, his dirty feet are adorable, but you know…who looks forward to washing feet?
As I was thinking this it struck me that when it comes to my kids I (sometimes) lose my servant heart. I could rationalize this by saying it is just washing feet. But when I think of the significance of Jesus washing his disciples’ feet and the purpose of him doing so, it puts things into perspective. Mostly, I put all I have when it comes to serving in my church, even with the little things. When I worked I did the same. But when it comes to certain things with my kids, I simply do not.
I know I cannot joyfully do everything in life. I cannot be perfect in parenthood. I need to show myself grace. I know I am a good mom. At the same time though, I need to point out things I can improve on. That is all a part of growing and striving to always become a better person…a better mom. So, next time I wash his dirty little feet, I will think of all the steps and jumps they have made through the day. All those step and jumps are a part of his journey. I will think of what a gift it is to have dirty little feet to wash. I will thank God for giving me the responsibility of taking care of dirty feet and everything else I take for granted as a parent.
God gave me and my husband two amazing boys to raise up to be men of God. We need to show them, even through the little things, how important it is to serve others.
When he had finished washing their feet, he put on his clothes and returned to his place. “Do you understand what I have done for you?” he asked them. “You call me ‘Teacher’ and ‘Lord,’ and rightly so, for that is what I am. Now that I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also should wash one another’s feet. I have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you.
~John 13:12-15
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Power of the Blood
Many times we get swept away by life and we forget the significance of the cross. The pain of the past, of the things that happened to us in childhood that were out of our control, and things of the present that are out of our control have a way of making us think Christ’s blood is out of our reach.
I have one friend especially that comes to mind. She doesn’t see her own beauty and it kills me. I truly wish she could see what I see. Her kindness, her generosity, her ability to make people feel comfortable and accepted…it is a gift not everyone has. I wish I could show up at her door every morning, give her a hug, and tell her she’s worthy and beautiful. Actually, I wish I could do that for many people in my life. I could make a job out of it. Stacy, your own personal daily inspiration giver–that would be me. Oh, I would love that. But, I’m sure people would get annoyed if I showed up at their door everyday.
Okay, back to reality…
Satan. He puts thoughts in our minds. Your sins are worse than so and so’s. You are not worthy. You are not a good person. People are judging you. People don’t like you…the list goes on and on. Satan knows our weaknesses. He knows the openings that allow doubt to sift into our minds.
But guess what? Christ sees our strengths. He sees the good. He loves us. He believes in us. He is always on our side. He knew we were worthy enough to die for. Let us stop putting His blood on trial. His blood really is strong enough to cover all of our sins. Stop doubting the power of His blood.
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A Simple Moment
I had been trying to decide how to present my kids blessings to them. Do we make it a special event? Or some intimate moment between us and them? I thought it needed to be “special”.
Then this morning I glanced at Luke. He was sitting at the kitchen table chomping on his crunchy cereal. I thought, “Why does it have to be a special event? Maybe today is the day he needs to hear it.” I do not know what the day will bring. I grabbed the paper and sat next to Luke.
I explained to him that no one else on this earth has this blessing…which made me think I should take it off my blog. His eyes lit up and then he flashed his cute little smile. I read his blessing to him and I could feel the power in the words. He wanted to hear Oliver’s as well so I read it to him. He nodded and agreed it was a good one for his little brother. He finished getting ready for school. After, he sat on the couch and asked me to read it to him again. He leaned his head on me as I read the words once again. Then he asked to sit on the porch until it was time to go.
I guess I need to remember not everything has to be an event. Sometimes life happens in the small moments. Not sure why, but, God is really trying to engrain this simplicity thing in me as of late…
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The Life in Dying
I have seen all kinds of dying. I see it as a part of life most people overlook––in a sense. Maybe that will not make any sense to the average person. Maybe that is a good thing? I don’t know. I know people who have worked with dying patients may relate and I know people who have faced illness may relate. Really, why else would you think of death as such?
I remember my first death as a nurse. It was a peaceful death. It was expected. It was awkward being the one responsible for checking for the lack of vital signs. I remembered the rule of listening for a heartbeat for a full minute, the longest minute of my life, as all eyes of the family members were on me. I felt their tears on hold…justing waiting for the words before they burst out. The hardest part was getting the words out of my mouth. I couldn’t wait to get of the room so I could breathe.
I cannot recall how many deaths I have seen since. I’ve grown accustomed to every part of it. I know how to talk to a family and the patient of the impending outcome. I know how to explain (gently) why the body does not need the food the family insists on giving. I know when to stay in the room and I know when to give the family space. I am so good at death that I sometimes can see it coming just by a smell, by a subtle change in the skin, and by a look of the eyes.
Although I may have grown accustomed to the process, it is never easy to say goodbye to a patient and it is even harder to watch a family have to say goodbye to their loved one. I have shed many tears with family members––something I could not do at first. I had a very wise nurse tell me one time that it was okay to cry with the families from time to time. I took that advice because sometimes patients and their family become like family. I have gathered most of my wisdom of life from being a part of the last days of people’s life. I have learned what truly matters in life because of them.
I wish I could give some specific examples of what I have seen; I have seen some crazy things. There is something of a personal level that I do not feel comfortable sharing. It is not my story to blurt out on a blog. I am just a bystander in their last moments of life. What I do want to share is what I have learned. Most of it sounds too simple to be profound. But profound is usually found in the most simple things, isn’t it? Here’s what I got:
There is life in dying. There is a reason they are still living, even if for just another breath.
Family matters. People want their family there with them. They need to feel their hand being held. They need to hear it is okay to die. They need to hear, “I love you.”
Laughter. It is okay to laugh when someone is dying. Sit in the room and tell the funny stories.
Tears. Tears are okay too.
Money. It doesn’t matter. Not once have I heard a dying patient talk about the amount of money they made in a lifetime.
Attention. People want attention. Brush their hair. Straighten their sheets. Sometimes it is the little things that matter the most.
Forgiveness. Give it. Receive it. I have seen patients holding out to die because they are waiting for it. Don’t be stubborn.
Love. I told you simple, didn’t I?
Faith. I saved the best for last. Faith most definitely makes all the difference in death. I have seen the difference of someone with and someone without faith die. There is a difference. There really is.
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Me, Myself, and I.
I spent many years, my late teens through my early twenties, trying to find myself. I guess I always had (even before that) been looking and trying to find and be me. It is a part of who I am, my core, always trying to peel away the layers to expose what is inside…to expose who I am meant to be. I am most content when I am unapologetically me. I think many creative types can totally relate to this. I don’t like when people try to be like me, sometimes I get a bit territorial with myself. I think I am like this because I like others to be themselves, as well. We all have a unique beauty that lies within, just waiting to shine. When I see and feel others basking in their own beauty I am inspired to bask in my own. I feel a deep sadness when I see people struggling to accept themselves.
I reached a point in my life where I realized I wasn’t the most socially adept person. In fact, I could spend hours in my room by myself and be completely content. I would think. I still can do this. I love to think and relax inside my own head. That is the why I am so drawn to writing. Although I loved being around people, I was never good at the skimming the surface conversations that people start to blossom in once they hit middle school. I like depth. Not everyone does, so I found myself drawn to having a few close friends, rather than trying to be friends with everyone.
Now that I am older I have adapted and accepted the surface with most people. I actually have become more socially adept, as well. It has been a process and one I wished I could have seen the simplicity in sooner…but then there is always a reason for the journey.
I once took the path of the world. I think the world seems far too attractive for us thinking/philosophical types. When I tell this part of my story, I always feel the need to defend myself a bit. Like, I wasn’t a horrible person…I never did drugs and blahsy blah blah. I think it stems from guilt of walking away from the path God was trying to lead me. I guess, also, it proves my point even more. You can live with morals and be a good person and still not be living the life you are intended to. Anyhow, I always felt His pull every single day. The strength it took to fight it almost led me into complete darkness. But it was as though He kept relighting my candle just enough for me to see Him still.
Once I realized that He would not give up on me––I gave in. Because feeling His light…even if just a shimmer…was the only thing that gave me hope…it was the only thing that helped me see my true reflection. Nothing this world offered helped me to find myself. No, it was through Him. It was through trust and digging into the Word. The more rooted I became in Him, the more I saw myself and the person I was meant to be. I found my joy and I will never let it go again.
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It Really is Real
I have concluded today is going to be one of those days for me. I am in the mood to write. So, here is my third blog of the day…
There are moments throughout the day, in the midst of all the busyness, where I get caught up in the moment. Most of these moments accompany thoughts of parenthood. My kids are out of diapers and one is in 1st grade and I still stop and think, “I’m really a parent, aren’t I?” I feel as though this entire day has been one of those moments. Time feels slower and my mind is at ease.
I glance at my present situation. Matt and the boys are laying around watching a movie. I obviously am typing out my thoughts––thoughts of this wonderful little life of mine. I think of all the little steps Matt and I took to get here. Some steps hurt and some felt like we were gliding. Nonetheless, we are here. We are right where we should be. We are right where I want to be.
I always wanted to be a mom. I always wanted the exact life I am living right now. It seems so surreal. Like this is really happening, isn’t it? I’m not a teen daydreaming in my bedroom. I’m an adult. Matt is the type of husband I envisioned marrying. Luke and Oliver are amazing. I live in the type of house I imagined with the type of yard (one with beautiful trees) I imagined. I don’t think I would want to change one thing about my life. Except maybe the eleven gray hairs I counted on my head this morning. But truly, my gray hairs are all a part of this beautiful journey. To go back to a time without them would be tragic. Because all I would be doing is dreaming of this life I have right now. This life that I cannot believe is real, it really is real.
I thank God everyday for my blessings. I know how quickly life can change and I know my life won’t always feel this great. So I stress to my kids every single day that we are so very blessed. I want my kids to realize this life they live is everything I (their mom) ever wanted. Even on the not so fun days I cannot imagine any other life. I never dreamed of fame. I dreamed of this. I dreamed of them. I am living my dreams.
Through the Stillness 