Goings On

May 24, 2014

It’s been nearly a month since I last posted. Why does time get away from us so easily? I had intended to be more consistent as I had tried to be, but clearly I failed. 

Actually, there are good reasons. Our lives have been inundated with challenges these last few weeks. My son’s illness (see here) continues to baffle us. It can take a long time to heal from the damage of an infection like the one he had. But (and I haven’t shared this very much) he is also dealing with some delays that are quite troubling. Without divulging too much information, it appears he may be struggling with some sensory processing issues. And maybe this is the cause of his speech delay. Regardless, we are getting on that right away and hoping that with some intervention, he can overcome these things. 

The most interesting experience in all this has been the way God has guided us. Considering that only a matter of years ago, it seemed to us that God had left us in the darkness of loss and sorrow, now he appears to be quite active in my son’s young life, even without him knowing it. As I have prayed, God has on three occasions, made clear what the outcome of this illness will be. He has spoken quite definitively, and though for a few days after these messages I tend to go back and forth wondering if it was indeed God who has spoken, every time, we have come back to knowing the voice of the Shepherd. But the process is taking so very long. And that feels heavy.   Read the rest of this entry »

Kara, the writer behind the Mundane Faithfulness blog, has invited other bloggers to participate in a practice of grace- writing letters every week, each letter with its own focus. I do not know Kara. We live in the same city and some of my friends and family know her, but I have only followed her story in bits and pieces as others have posted her blog posts to their Facebook pages. Kara’s story is heart-rending and powerful and in the midst of her own suffering, she gives people a glimpse of Christ in her, the hope of glory. Today’s assignment is to write a way grace has met me to offer comfort.



Dear You,

There is a song I used to listen to over and over again by Caedmon’s Call called Hold the Light. Every time I played it, I thought of you. It goes like this:

It’s been a long year, Like a long sleepless night.
Jacob wrestled the angel, but I’m too tired to fight.
Every Wednesday for two years we’ve met.
I’ve showed you all my anger, my doubts and bitterness.

There was no judgement in your eyes just the silent peace of God, that felt so real in you.

Will you hold the light for me?
Will you hold the light for me?

And I stay up late because I cannot sleep.
I don’t want to face the quiet where it’s just God and me.
I’m waiting for the gavel handing me the sentence down,
because I don’t believe forgiveness or even repentance now.

There was no judgement in your eyes, Just the silent peace of God, that felt so real in you.

Will you hold the light for me?
Will you hold the light for me?

I want to feel redemption flowing through my veins.
I want to see with clear eyes beyond lust and hate.
I want the war to be over, and know the good guys won,
and I want love to hold me to know I’m not alone.

Standing around a willow weeping, we were praying in the backyard.
In the chill of the night the friendship light reminded me who we are
…who we are, who we are

Will you hold the light?
Will you hold the light for me?  Read the rest of this entry »

When I was a college student, I kept a journal which I had lovingly named Cockroach (who names their journal’s Cockroach!?). It was simply a notebook with a cover on the front that I had made, and in it I wrote many thoughts, prayers, poems, all of them addressed to God. Cockroach became both my prayerbook and my history book, recording the wrestlings and wonderings of an emerging adult. I still have it, kept away in a box full of all things past.

One of the things I wrote most about was learning to trust God. Back then, I would visualize myself on a cliff and there would be a cosmic voice telling me to let myself fall, and to trust that somewhere on the way down, a hand would catch me. It was the way I practiced trust. When faced with fears or uncertainties, I would journal, close my eyes, and mentally fall backward, trying to demand of myself to enjoy the fall since I didn’t know far I would have to fall before God would reach out to stop it.

In some ways, I look back at that college student and admire her creative way of learning to trust. In other ways, I want to say, “Honey! You have no idea!”

There are moments when I envy people who have such amazing depth of trust in God. Because they make it seem to easy. I decided that one of three things may be happening when I bump into someone like that: 1) they’re lying, 2) they have a spiritual gift or 3) they know to trust because they lived trials that stretched them to trust.  Read the rest of this entry »