Celebrating…

 

… 50 years of marriage. 

Who I am

I have a confession to make. Sometimes I find people just.plain.annoying. Especially when they “ask” for favors but yet expect for you to do it. It makes me want to demand, “Are you asking me? or are you telling me?!” One such circumstance happened last night, and all I could thing was, “Are you kidding me?!” And that was exactly what I said to my friends who were with me when I read the downright ridiculous request. I was not mad, but in fact found humor in the matter and went on to fulfill the request to the best of my ability. I was quite proud of myself too.

Until this morning. I read this…

“If the ultimate, the hardest, cannot be asked of me; if my fellows hesitate to ask it and turn to someone else, then I know nothing of Calvary love.” -Amy Carmichael

And I was humbled. Deeply humbled before my God. My haughty superior attitude. Disgusting.

And then my thoughts wandered to two very dear friends of mine who are here visiting for a couple of days. One knows worlds more about computers than I do so I passed over my laptop for a quick fix. As he worked diligently for hours, even putting some cash into the problem, his wife, an artist, worked with me on developing children’s lessons. We spent the evening working and chatting away, taking a break when the conversation turned to more serious matters. They told me time and time again how happy they were to be able to help me out in any way. Because they are my friends and because they love me, yes. But much more so for the love of their Savior.

So what did I do? Turned to my God and asked forgiveness for being how I am, asking Him to show me, convict me, and give me His love. But not only change how I see, but who I am.

For more writings about Calvary Love from Amy Carmichael click here.

Good sport, eh?

Days of late...

Recent days find me back with the people who know the most horrendous things about me but yet happen to be the people who love me the most.

FAMILY

I will be going back to Mexico Monday, but I will be taking a bit of the family with me. Really cool story, but more on that later.

Yeah.

Just by means of clarification: I do not live in a hut with dirt floors. However, I do go up into the mountains almost everyday into the homes of people who live with a dirt floor and sometimes I find myself staying there overnight for a few days or a week or two. And if you happened to visit me in Mexico and we came upon such a home without thought, I would say, "This is my friend, so-and so's house." Yeah...they are some of the loveliest people I know. No joke.
But I live in a valley area, which has a population that is rumored to be about 300,000. And has all modern convinces. Well, all but one that I have found....
A guy friend of mine was talking the other day about how hated to wash dishes. And then he asked, "Hey, isn't there something where you come from that is like a washing machine, but it washes dishes?!"
I only laughed.

wait and hope and turn it all

I know. I have not been around very much in this world called blogging. I would love to say that it that it is because I have been extremely busy...and I have been. But that has nothing to do with my absence here.
I have not been here because of what happens when I am here. I write. And always when I write I show my heart. Not saying that I am some amazing profound writer or anything, cause well, I know I am not. In fact most of the time I forget that there are readers out there. A few scant people who sometimes find the words that I write interesting.
But when I write it is for the sake of writing. When I start, I might have a general idea of what it might be about, but have no idea how it is going to shape up. Writing causes me to see things in a light that I had not seen them before. It gives me the time to think about things that I normally would push further down into the depths of my heart, because in just an ordinary moment when I am thinking, there are other, more important, more pressing things to be done. Writing opens me up in ways that few other things can.
And well, as of late, I have not wanted to show my heart. I have not been able to. Sometimes live is just hard. And painful. So very painful. And sometimes I have no idea how to handle it. Especially when it is from the hands of people. You want to react, shout, and cry "This IS NOT right!" I want to criticize, to point out faults, to have my time to speak. But that is not right either. Hence I have not written. Yes this is my place...to say what I think, to bear my heart, to talk about what I want, but I have to remember that no matter what world I am in, I am the daughter of the King....
And so I write to my King and I speak with Him. He knows my heart better than I do....He is the one who shows me what is there. The sin and the shame, yes. But also the creature that He is molding with His very own hands. This King is a man in whom I can trust everything....and so I do. And "He makes all things beautiful in HIS time." So I wait and hope and turn it all to Him.

Upwards and onwards...

I stop. Stand up straight, unfolding my back. I look up to a baby blue sky, shielding my eyes from the sunlight with my hands. Then I look around. So much green. Trees. Rolling Hills. Rocks. Houses dotting the side of the mountains. I look back and in doing so, my eyes wander downward. Down to where I had been, seeing how far and how high I had climbed. I looked forward and upward, not being able to see how far I had left to go. I sigh with a bit of discouragement. The thrill of hiking had long since left and I weariness was slowly taking over my body. The words, "Poco a poco; step by step" ring in my head. "Don't give up keep pressing forward." So I go. Keep climbing. I come across slippery rocks and mud. Both of which make the path unstable and unsure. I watch the feet of the person in front of me, thinking, "Step where they have stepped. Watch to see what is the best way to go." The sun hides behind the clouds and dusk sets in. Soon the person in front of me pulls out a flashlight. I do not have one. They swing hold the light down by their knee, swinging it back and forth, back and forth. In this, the light helps them and me. Now I am walking, only being able to see where I am half of the time, the other half I remember what the light showed me when it was there, repeating to myself, "Never doubt in the darkness what you have seen in the light." Still climbing. Then, without warning, I feel my foot slip, I know I'm going to fall. The hand of the person in front of me reaches back, grabbing my arm, keeping me from falling. They say, "Are you alright?! Don't you worry. I know the way. Hold my hand and you will not fall." I take a deep breath. All is ok. I say a silent prayer. And we continue on.

Oh Lord, how this is the story of my life. Struggling, questioning, reminding myself of precious truths along the way to keep myself going. Enough I say! I am ready for that deep breath that comes with the assurance of a strong hand. Lord I am willing to go where You want me to go and do what You want me to do, but please lead me by the hand. Better yet, carry me upwards and onwards. Further up and further in.