These are words of change, "God has not forgotten you".
They came to me one summer day at a women's conference in Washington, D.C.. I had been "wandering in the desert" for some time. Yearning for breakthrough in my spiritual/emotional growth, but staying stuck where I was. I would have little victories along the way, but would always be pulled back down by my past. Needless to say, it had been a long time since I peeled off a 'layer of onion'. I had pretty much resigned myself to living in the desert.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Monday, February 7, 2011
Sticking the landing
Last weekend at a friend's house, a group of us were having a wonderful time sharing stories from our childhood. Through the laughter, I heard a name from the past that I am greatly familiar with. Could it be true? Had someone actually just mentioned my childhood hero? Yes! You know who I'm talking about (if not there's always google =]). That great 70's legend...Evil Kenevil!
All I really knew about Evil Kenevil was that he would attempt these crazy motorcycle jumps. Sometimes crashing, sometimes sticking the landing. And that he seemed to do this with absolutely no fear.
Emulating my hero, I played with no fear. I even earned the nickname, Karen Kenevil.
That title was given to me when I was 9, after I jumping a picnic table with my bicycle.
I cleared the table lengthwise and landed upright on both wheels in the sandbox...handlebar going up under my ribcage. Not sure if that counts as sticking the landing, but I sure did earn the respect of my friends.
A landing I did not stick was on my mini bike. My brother and I would ride at this clearing near our house. It was a big circle with a path through the center and one that led to a 6 foot drop off. Not finding enough thrill in going around the circle, I made my own route. A 405 degree loop, right turn down the drop off, back up around the side to the bottom of the circle. I felt like one of the teens that would stop by on their big dirt bikes that they would ride all over the adjoining property. On one pass, that my dad actually got on film, I didn't take my finger off the throttle to go down the drop off. Maybe I forgot, Maybe I was living up to my nickname. Whichever it was, I took that drop off at full throttle catching 6 feet of air, landing on my belly. I was sprawled out at the bottom. My bike on it's side sputtering, more wounded than I was.
My most recent moment of catching air was when I lost control of my van on ice. Ramped up a tree doing a 180 in the air before landing. I don't think losing consciousness from a blow to the head qualifies this as a stuck landing either. However, I did go through it with no fear. Not the, reckless invincibility of a 9 year old lack of fear. It was the lack of fear that comes with peace, knowing that God is with you no matter where you are and what's happening.
There is a huge difference between having no fear because you don't think you'll ever die and having no fear because you know where you're going when you do.
A quick Bible search of the phrase "Do not be afraid" brings up 70 references. My favorite one is in John 14, where Jesus spells it all out. It takes place during the Last Supper, the Passover meal. He tells them that He is the Way, promises the Holy Spirit, and gives them His peace. "Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid". The men Jesus is speaking to are about to have their world shaken and He is preparing them for it.
God in all His Majesty, who by all rights is too Great to be accessible, gives us access to Him through His Son Jesus, Yeshua; by His Holy Spirit. We know this promise is for us as well. In John 17 after Jesus prays for His disciples, He prays for all that will believe in Him through their message.
This is where "sticking the landing" becomes a moot point. It's not about landing on your feet in the perfect pose or falling down, or even if you're injured or not. It's about faith, the journey you choose to be on. You either believe that Jesus is who He said He is and receive the greatest gift you could imagine, or you don't. And if you believe, what are you doing with gift He has given you?
Are you using it?
Or are you afraid to unwrap it?
All I really knew about Evil Kenevil was that he would attempt these crazy motorcycle jumps. Sometimes crashing, sometimes sticking the landing. And that he seemed to do this with absolutely no fear.
Emulating my hero, I played with no fear. I even earned the nickname, Karen Kenevil.That title was given to me when I was 9, after I jumping a picnic table with my bicycle.
I cleared the table lengthwise and landed upright on both wheels in the sandbox...handlebar going up under my ribcage. Not sure if that counts as sticking the landing, but I sure did earn the respect of my friends.
A landing I did not stick was on my mini bike. My brother and I would ride at this clearing near our house. It was a big circle with a path through the center and one that led to a 6 foot drop off. Not finding enough thrill in going around the circle, I made my own route. A 405 degree loop, right turn down the drop off, back up around the side to the bottom of the circle. I felt like one of the teens that would stop by on their big dirt bikes that they would ride all over the adjoining property. On one pass, that my dad actually got on film, I didn't take my finger off the throttle to go down the drop off. Maybe I forgot, Maybe I was living up to my nickname. Whichever it was, I took that drop off at full throttle catching 6 feet of air, landing on my belly. I was sprawled out at the bottom. My bike on it's side sputtering, more wounded than I was.My most recent moment of catching air was when I lost control of my van on ice. Ramped up a tree doing a 180 in the air before landing. I don't think losing consciousness from a blow to the head qualifies this as a stuck landing either. However, I did go through it with no fear. Not the, reckless invincibility of a 9 year old lack of fear. It was the lack of fear that comes with peace, knowing that God is with you no matter where you are and what's happening.
There is a huge difference between having no fear because you don't think you'll ever die and having no fear because you know where you're going when you do.
A quick Bible search of the phrase "Do not be afraid" brings up 70 references. My favorite one is in John 14, where Jesus spells it all out. It takes place during the Last Supper, the Passover meal. He tells them that He is the Way, promises the Holy Spirit, and gives them His peace. "Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid". The men Jesus is speaking to are about to have their world shaken and He is preparing them for it.
God in all His Majesty, who by all rights is too Great to be accessible, gives us access to Him through His Son Jesus, Yeshua; by His Holy Spirit. We know this promise is for us as well. In John 17 after Jesus prays for His disciples, He prays for all that will believe in Him through their message.
This is where "sticking the landing" becomes a moot point. It's not about landing on your feet in the perfect pose or falling down, or even if you're injured or not. It's about faith, the journey you choose to be on. You either believe that Jesus is who He said He is and receive the greatest gift you could imagine, or you don't. And if you believe, what are you doing with gift He has given you?
Are you using it?
Or are you afraid to unwrap it?
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
My Journey with Mom...
My plan was to wait on writing about my Mom. Wait till after I had written down a few of the growing experiences God had graciously used to prepare me for her death. Those moments however, are not what is burning in my thoughts.
Exodus 20:12 states that we are to honor our father and our mother...
So how do I write about my mom and the disease that took her, without dishonoring her? Well that's just it, my mom had a disease. She didn't wake up one morning and decide that liver cirrhosis was how she preferred to go, it just crept up. The changes were so gradual we adjusted to them, accepted them as normal. But slowly, Mom was being taken from us.
She was a beautiful woman with a beautiful voice. A hard worker. Fantastic cook. Gracious hostess. Compassionate nurse. Very intelligent, she continued her education till her retirement. I have so many good memories of the two of us going out together without the boys. Having some girl time. Singing with the car radio, pumping gas, going shopping, playing in the backyard together, playing cards. Slowly though, over a time of some 30 years, she began to change.
During the last few weeks of her life, I got to spend many hours with her. Our roles had reversed somewhat. She was trusting me to help her make decisions, yet she was still my mom and deserved all the honor and respect that comes with that..."honor your father and your mother".
Once in the hospital, her health deteriorated rapidly. Her body was failing and there was nothing they could do to stop it. She was very afraid and confused. Being with her was the most painful thing I have ever experienced, watching what she was going through. Unable to do anything to bring her comfort. But I had to be there, she trusted me and needed me. It broke my heart.
Then Wednesday came.
Wednesday morning she rallied. Greeted us as we walked in the room. She was sitting up tasting everything she had on her food tray. I had not seen her even remotely interested in food in a long time. As we visited, she became interested in a show on the television, on fashion. She even shushed us so she could hear about the dress...and the shoes! She loved those shoes!
There it was! The blessing in the midst of such sadness! There was my Mom! The one I remembered from my childhood and our 'girl time'. The woman before the disease. Dad and I were so happy to see the change, not realizing at the time how short lived it would be. Both our hearts were lightened. It truly was a blessing, one worth all the pain surrounding it.
I believe God gives us these moments. These little lights in dark tunnels to let us know He is there and that He cares about every detail in our lives. As if He is saying "I am here", "be at peace, I got this".
Mom passed a week later on Thursday, while I held her hand. I had let her go, told her she had been strong long enough and it was time to rest. She stopped breathing 30 minutes later.
As humans, we want to hold on to what we know. We think this life and body are all there is.
We can not see beyond earth, so we hold on to it.
Faith is believing in what you cannot see. My Mom's death has strengthened my faith. It has not left me questioning God. It has not caused me to doubt Him. I saw God moving throughout my last weeks with her, because I looked for Him. I know He will continue to comfort me when I get sad over her death.
I will always have Wednesday.
"For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." Jeremiah 29:11
First off let me just say that this, or any of my writings that involve others, will NOT be an inspection of their defaults. My Mom and I did not always agree, sometimes in a very passionate way. That was always about opinion, never about love. As a parent myself, I know how hard it is to be "perfect". We do the best we can and sometimes we make mistakes. That doesn't mean we don't love and want what is best for our children.
Exodus 20:12 states that we are to honor our father and our mother...So how do I write about my mom and the disease that took her, without dishonoring her? Well that's just it, my mom had a disease. She didn't wake up one morning and decide that liver cirrhosis was how she preferred to go, it just crept up. The changes were so gradual we adjusted to them, accepted them as normal. But slowly, Mom was being taken from us.
She was a beautiful woman with a beautiful voice. A hard worker. Fantastic cook. Gracious hostess. Compassionate nurse. Very intelligent, she continued her education till her retirement. I have so many good memories of the two of us going out together without the boys. Having some girl time. Singing with the car radio, pumping gas, going shopping, playing in the backyard together, playing cards. Slowly though, over a time of some 30 years, she began to change.
During the last few weeks of her life, I got to spend many hours with her. Our roles had reversed somewhat. She was trusting me to help her make decisions, yet she was still my mom and deserved all the honor and respect that comes with that..."honor your father and your mother".
Once in the hospital, her health deteriorated rapidly. Her body was failing and there was nothing they could do to stop it. She was very afraid and confused. Being with her was the most painful thing I have ever experienced, watching what she was going through. Unable to do anything to bring her comfort. But I had to be there, she trusted me and needed me. It broke my heart.
Then Wednesday came.
Wednesday morning she rallied. Greeted us as we walked in the room. She was sitting up tasting everything she had on her food tray. I had not seen her even remotely interested in food in a long time. As we visited, she became interested in a show on the television, on fashion. She even shushed us so she could hear about the dress...and the shoes! She loved those shoes!
There it was! The blessing in the midst of such sadness! There was my Mom! The one I remembered from my childhood and our 'girl time'. The woman before the disease. Dad and I were so happy to see the change, not realizing at the time how short lived it would be. Both our hearts were lightened. It truly was a blessing, one worth all the pain surrounding it.
I believe God gives us these moments. These little lights in dark tunnels to let us know He is there and that He cares about every detail in our lives. As if He is saying "I am here", "be at peace, I got this".
Mom passed a week later on Thursday, while I held her hand. I had let her go, told her she had been strong long enough and it was time to rest. She stopped breathing 30 minutes later.
As humans, we want to hold on to what we know. We think this life and body are all there is.
We can not see beyond earth, so we hold on to it.
Faith is believing in what you cannot see. My Mom's death has strengthened my faith. It has not left me questioning God. It has not caused me to doubt Him. I saw God moving throughout my last weeks with her, because I looked for Him. I know He will continue to comfort me when I get sad over her death.I will always have Wednesday.
"For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." Jeremiah 29:11
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