Lost

Not the tv show LOST, the feeling. I might be just as confused as the ending of said show. My heart aches. I try to do much, and rely on the wrong things. My strength comes from The Lord, but it's hard to put everything out there. I'm taught to be self sufficient. That never turns out well. I've attempted to rely on others help and they fail. I'm not sure how I've made the decisions to reach out horizontally and know it will fail, when I know a vertical reach always leads me perfectly. I'm not ashamed of the friendships that I've made, but I am frustrated with them. I miss the old solid friendships that cost more gas. No really it's a money thing. I have tried to put myself out there for others and I can't not do that, but I must guard my heart. The lostness that I feel is more associated with an unreachable expectation I place on these others. They will never hold up to the bond created years ago. The timing is off, but mostly it's a personality glitch. It's just not a lost and found anymore. I'm lost, but I don't need to be found, I need a friend to be lost with me.

Trust

How amazing that Hannah was so courageous. She not only prayed so long for a child, she endured ridicule. She was provoked, but not to anger, to trust in The Lord! How amazing!!!
She could have isolated herself and stayed home from the temple because of the heartache that it always brought. But no! She faced the gloating, the painful reminders that she was barren. She humbled herself and trusted The Lord. Jennifer Carter in her book, Women of Courage, calls Hannah a model of self control. She never justified actions of resentment or bitterness. With her circumstances most women I know would be depressed, bitter, and find comfort in things of this world. Hannah instead, poured herself out to The Lord in humble supplication. Year after year she came to The Lord in the temple and wept. She asked The Lord to open her womb. But her reason for asking for a child wasn't to say I told you so, or to be prideful. She gave the child she longed for back to The Lord. Just like Abraham, she was willing to sacrifice her one worldly desire. Her firstborn son, her only son.
God takes her son Samuel, and because of Hannah's faith, blessed him and others around him.
The Lord is faithful to provide everything that we need when we need it. We just need to trust. Trust in The Lord's goodness, grace, mercy and His plan.

Length

The length of time I've had this feels like forever. It's only been a few months of constant issue, but still; forever.
It's now considered chronic. Really? I thought only old people had chronic stuff. I'm not yet 30 and I've had to take, old man pills and old woman cream. You would think I was 65!! But alas, no I'm not yet 30. I have 3 small children to care for in addition to my husband. I am so incredibly thankful for my husband. He is understanding, patient, kind, helpful. Not always perfectly, but he is wonderful.
I wish I could say I was persevering through this with a happy serving heart. I wish I could say I wasn't selfish most of the time. I wish I could say I poured into my kids all the strength I have.
I am a flawed pitiful sinner. I am selfish. I love myself. Why? I'm such a awful person. I wouldn't like me if I knew me. So why do I love myself so? Because I am me and I'm a big nasty sinner.
I am covered in blood washed linen. I'm enveloped in a flood of grace. Christ is my focus (not perfectly). Christ's strength fights for me. I am pursued by Love. I'm forgiven much. I'm forgiven ALL. I'm rescued from ME.
The length of time I have to endure this? I don't know. But I do know God that will carry me through anything. He will refine me into the person he wants me to be. The person I am made to become. ME. As long as that takes. It might take my whole life.

Last

Last post for this year. Last fast food for the year. Last football game for the year. Good thing don't always last. But sometimes they do last. Sometimes things last longer than you expect. Good, bad, mundane. The good things? Are still good. The bad things? Some are still bad, and some have turned really good.

Conversations have produced great things. Will those things last? I hope so. I pray they last and flourish more than I can imagine. Only God knows how He will use those conversations. Talking I like. Waiting? Not so much. Although, waiting two years wasn't that bad looking back. In the midst of waiting, it's so so awful. But looking back from the other side of the wait, it looks better than it probably was.

The last thing? Pray. Pray. Pray.

God help me. A sinner. A lazy sinner. Leave my weak moments in the past and give me the strength to move beyond. Life I pray for my eyes to fixed upon the Ever.Last.ing. The First and the Last. Praise The Lord O my soul. Give me songs to teach my children. Bless them in despite my shortfalls. Bless my husband even in my weakness of emotion. Praise The Lord for His Providence and Provision.

Gone

She died. She passed away. She's gone. She is no longer with us. No matter the word used to describe it, the fact remains that she died four days shy of her 101st birthday. I sang happy birthday to a frail still small shadow if a woman I knew.

She made things. She spent the time to teach others to make things. I was taught many many times how to crochet, yet I could never catch the correct tension. I was about 13 years old when I stayed a week with my grandma. She made breakfast for me every morning. We sat quietly in recliners doing our crafts. She was crocheting and I was making friendship bracelets. I felt so empowered by her. She was old, but still full of life and energy and knowledge. She had lived through the wars, and the depression, and five children. One of which is a stubborn stubborn man I call dad. She had knowledge of things I had no concept. She was a farm, country, small town woman. I was an awkward city raised teen. Not sure of who I was really. I now know of the shell of a girl I had made into the me they all knew. She taught me to slow down, and relax. That the phone wasn't the ultimate idol. Relax may not be the right word here. She was calm about the things she did. Her actions were deliberate, straight forward and consistent. She was always doing something. Whether it was crocheting or cooking or teaching or mending or caring, always something.
She told me of the time the school called to ask her to substitute teach a class. She only had an eighth grade education, but the school asked her and she accepted. She substituted for a woman off for maternity leave. She stayed for the rest of the year.
Life was different with her. I felt like I could breath, I could be my awkward little self and she loved me for it. I wasn't weird for being creative. I wasn't being lazy because I was working on a craft project. I was useful and praised for the things I did.

I wish she would have come to my wedding. I missed her presence. I miss her presence even now. She was embarrassed by her age spots. I said she had earned each one rightfully.

She had been deteriorating for four years now, but it does actually grieve me that she is no longer on the earth. Why should this affect me? I don't know. God is sovereign over all of this. My actions should reflect His goodness and mercy, but instead I reflect a poor depressed lost soul. Lost in the forest and jungles of my own mind and emotions. God have mercy on me, I Am A Sinner.
Gone. She is gone. But He lives, ten thousand years and ForeverMore!

Butterfly

Here is my first attempt at a butterfly pillow. I'm hoping this will be a well loved item. I used old stuffing from an unused pillow. It only took a few hours to make. Not too bad for not having a pattern. The hardest part was getting the buttons in the correct placements.

Deep

I feel like I could cry. I feel I could curl up and hide. I feel not so much like myself, but as a shell. Myself is deep inside of this shell, waiting. Waiting for what I'm not so sure. The pains I have been experiencing have gone on for too long. Those pains that just pick at you and taunt you every second of every moment. My thoughts are clouded by the pains. I'm unable to concentrate for long, although my attention span was short to begin with.

Not that things get boring, its just the clouds get in the way and I cannot see past my nose. I guess that's why I feel like myself is buried so deep. So deep I can't find a way out? Or maybe I'm so deep I'm stuck. Either way, I'm a shell at the moment. Not a very hard shell at that, the kind that's able to be dented.

Lord help this shell to survive. Give me the strength to provide a loving shelter for those in my home. Give me the patience to discipline when needed. Lord help my responses, and curb my reactions.
It's through Christ's finished work on the cross that I can pray this,
Amen