Through the Stillness

The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.

~John 1:5

2016 has not been the best year of my life.  It may be the only year where I can say I have had more losses than gains.  I had a cousin, who always felt more like an uncle to me,  who killed himself.  I have an Aunt who died in a disturbing way and it still makes me cry anytime I think of it.  I lost a friend and I cannot even describe the pain associated with all of that. There are the things I choose to keep unmentionable as well.

I have experienced so much hurt this year and one positive thing I can say is my faith has not weakened.

I’m not sure what 2017 holds.  Will it be better or worse?  Who knows.

God recently reminded me that through it all He will not leave me or forsake me…which happens to be my confirmation verse. I feel a pull in me to embrace my kindness even more and not to allow the things of this world change who He made me to be. I feel I can continue on with a smile on my face.

It is okay to rely on Him and not look to the world for strength.

When someone refuses to see me for who I am it doesn’t change who I am.  It never will… unless I allow it.

Sometimes those who you think are there for you, really aren’t. I have to love them regardless. God keeps reminding me it is them and their deep pains that life has thrown at them…it isn’t me.

Oh, I feel better after whining.  Thanks, blog!

It is as though my thoughts are trapped somewhere. They cannot get out.  I just want to write. I want the release I get from writing.  What has happened? It is quite the dreadful thing for someone like myself.  I’m searching my mind and all is hidden from sight. Come out, come out wherever you are.  

I’ve never experienced writers block such as this before.  It is pretty desperate for me to be writing about writer’s block just for the sake of writing.  It isn’t just with my writing.  I feel this blockage all around my everyday life as well.

I need a vacation. I need to sit and stare out a window at unfamiliar surroundings.  I need to watch the sunset and see the colors reflect on waters my feet have not yet touched. I need to breathe in new air, instead of this same air my lungs are simply tired of. I want to get lost in a swarm of people I have never met.  I want to hear the swirling of conversations as I savor a cup of joe and take all the unfamiliar in.

Oh, maybe after the Holidays. For now, though…Calgon, please take me away.

Last night while Oliver was brushing his teeth he sat down on the edge of the bathtub.  He motioned for me to sit next to him, so I did. He placed his hand on my leg, took the toothbrush out of his mouth and said, “Mommy, God gave me the joy. Do you think He gives every Oliver the joy?”

All I could do was pat his sweet little head and say, “You know, I’m not sure. I do know He gave me the joy as well.”

Oliver’s faith and understanding are strong for a four-year-old.  He truly has the joy that shines through darkness. He and I are both more overzealous than the other two in the house. He will be one who lives out his faith louder than my other son, Luke. It is just the way God made him.

Luke is more of a black and white thinker.  His thoughts are more factual than they are feely.  I don’t believe I will ever hear Luke say he has the joy. I’m actually laughing just thinking of those words coming out of his mouth. The other day, Luke was telling his friend actual facts of why God is real. Luke’s eyes lit up and you could hear the fascination in his voice. I never at that age even thought of the facts as he does. It amazed me.

God gave them different types of faith. Each will touch different types of people. It truly is beautiful to think of.  The tricky part is for Matt and I to embrace their unique ways and channel their gifts in the right direction.

As I was writing this I couldn’t help but to shift my thinking to how grateful I am for the way God made me as well.  It is natural for me to be thankful for my kids and husband. But I don’t ever stop and actually thank God for myself. Maybe it sounds funny and less than humble. But it really isn’t. It is about giving the credit to the one who made me. It is about realizing I am a part of His plan. It is about feeling His love for me. It is about further embracing my gifts so I can further the Kingdom.

I think of my prayers. I thank Him for what I have, not for what I am. I don’t ever say thank you for making me joyful and kind. It is always about asking for the things I think I need to work on (which of course are important too). Even though I see myself as being pretty comfortable in my own skin––I need to be more intentional in thanking Him for my beauty. Yep.

I am no mistake.  He made me this way for a reason. God gave me mercy, kindness, joy, sensitivity, and so much more that makes me the one and only me.

Dear Lord, thank you for making me. Thank you for all the gifts you have bestowed upon me. I carry my own unique cross and I know You give me the tools and strength to carry it all the days of my life here on earth. Guide me and Matt as we do the best we can to teach our kids how to embrace their own gifts and as they learn to carry their own crosses. In your name I pray, Amen.

I make an effort each and every day to stay in the Word. It brings me peace. It gives me strength. It does not make me feel superior for doing so. Quite the opposite, actually. It humbles me and reminds me I cannot do things on my own.

I want my kids to see my faith in action. I want them to see it is more than going to church on a Sunday morning. Because, I cannot help but to believe we can do more outside the walls of the church than inside. That is not saying we we don’t need church. We do. It is just that we need to put into action what we learn and what we gain from inside the church. That is our purpose…to take the church with us in our everyday lives.

When I was getting the kids ready for bed last night, Oliver grabbed a bible. He then began to preach to me. With his finger pointing at me he said, “Jesus died on the cross for all of our sins. When we believe, we get to go to heaven…”  He went on with his cute little version of the gospel. I glanced over at Luke. He was on his own bed with his prayer journal. Earlier in the day, Luke was telling me his friend from school (who doesn’t go to church) knows God is real. I asked Luke how he knows his friend believes this and he said, “Because we talk about it.”

I could go on with little examples like this, but my point is not to brag about my kids and their faith. My point is that my kids are taking the church with them already. I cannot take full credit for this, but, it is normal for them to see me living out my faith and so it is easier for them to live out theirs.  You know, parents have the biggest influence on their kids faith.

Will they live out their faith the same way I do? No. They aren’t meant to. Will they struggle? I still do at times. Will they walk away from their faith? They may. But then they may also walk right back into it and be even stronger for it. There is no guarantee.

You have to make a choice. You can go to church or not go.  You can live out your faith outside the walls of the church or not. You can believe in God and know there is nothing you can do to earn your salvation…which is true. But that isn’t the whole picture. There is more to it. The more faith you grow (the more you are in the Word) the more you feel led to live it and share it. Try it. I challenge you. I promise, you will see I am right.

I always want to remember that and I want my family to as well–because I love them that much! But, I have to put forth the effort regardless of what is going on around me. It isn’t always easy. I know there will be times when I fail. We all do.

I don’t want to become fully desensitized to this world. When I am faithful in reading His word…listening to God through His word…I feel the stable joy underneath all the muck this world throws at me. And, that is a joy that cannot be contained.

The end.

Grandma,

There is a stinging in the depths of the void you left behind. Is it strange to say I am grateful for this void?  The pain of you being gone hurts, but it somehow reminds me of all I have to be thankful for in this life. It illuminates the power of love. Your void makes me whole, if that is even possible.

I think of the way God makes each and every one of us to be unique… and it all makes sense. There is no way to fill a void of anyone who has left you. There never will be anyone else like that person in your life.  The mark never fades. They are always a part of what makes you tick. Grandma, you are a part of what makes me tick.

My void really isn’t a void. It’s a space, but it isn’t empty. It’s filled with memories. It isn’t just filled with memories, though. It holds the me that came out of knowing you. The me, that remembers to never take life too serious. The me that loves to write–because you taught me to use my imagination.  The me, you and only you gave me.

Tomorrow it will be four years since you left me. I will never forget you. I will always remember the laughs, all the coffee, all the card games we had at your kitchen table. I am so blessed you are a part of me. God surely knew what He was doing when He made you my Grandma.

With all my love, Stacy.