Heros among us

I have had so many blogs/thoughts fluttering through my head, and I keep thinking I won't have time to complete it, so I avoid writing. But, today, at the Veteran's Day Chapel at Abilene Christian University, I was profoundly struck by one overwhelming thought:

There are heroes among us.

There were several moments throughout the service when Veterans were asked to stand and be recognized. As each branch of the armed forces stood I was struck by how...ordinary they each appeared. They were my brothers, my professors, my teachers, my uncles, my dad, my friends. They were not towering above the crowd. They didn't wear distinguishing attire. I could have seen these folks at Denny's eating breakfast, or at Lowe's shopping in the outdoor section. Maybe, I ran into them when I was at the grocery store. They were...common.

I know this may seem obvious. Of course they were common, ordinary, regular folks, Rosie. What did you expect? Did you think they would have capes on, or sashes displaying their rank and service? I guess I didn't. But, I thought I would see the emblem of honor or heroism somehow broadcasting their clout and distinguished service. I thought I would look at them and see the war torn years and experiences altering who they were and giving us, their community some awareness to their uniqueness.

The gentleman who spoke was 99 years old, had been married for 74 years and played the harmonica to God Bless America (I think). He plays his harmonica at nursing homes and retirement villages throughout Abilene. Who would have known this
"unremarkable" man, according the outside world had such a remarkable history? He didn't stand straight and tall; he moved his small, hunched over body to the podium with the use of a walker. It is amazing to me that this man, once young and virile, now stood humbly before the crowd offering his gentle demeanor to the service honoring all of those who have fought beside him and before him.

Quickly, I must share, that I think we are all carrying a remarkable history inside of our unremarkable posture. We all have a story. Each one of us. To some, we are the ordinary, common person who they meet at the grocery store, or at the Pizza Inn. In fact, isn't that how God created us? In his image? Wasn't he the ordinary, common man who came to walk among us? Wasn't he the indistinguishable son of a carpenter? Yet, we each carry a story, a history and a future that contends to be remarkable. As you look around, you may see the common, everyday folks that walk beside you. You may be that person to someone you meet. But, please, please fight to be the hero that stands and strives for justice, truth, and dignity. You don't have to wear a banner, a badge of medals. Oh, to be a hero, like the men and the women I saw standing in my midst today. That would be the greatest honor I could achieve. I pray today, that I will not only recognize the heroes in my midst, but that I will strive to be worthy of the fight they offer in my honor.

Here I am

You know that time and place where you're standing right before you have to make a decision? Sometimes, you're in bed and it's before you get up for the day. Maybe, you are in line at Sonic deciding which $.99 drink special will make your day. Where are we when we have to accept a disappointment of a job loss, or a job transfer? Some may be at the doctor's office when they are forced to make a decision about something that is so completely out of their control, yet so completely controls the next step that needs to be taken. Big decisions like this are not made in the blink of an eye, though often times, it appears to be so. More often that not, big decisions are practiced in the little moments each day offers. The moments we have to face disappointment with cheer, and frustration with calmness.

Unfortunately, I am standing at a precipice trying to decide and the choices are just not coming. Have you ever been there? That place in time when you know, "I have to get up, I have to breathe and move forward". And yet, with each breath, there is no movement. You know there's coffee to drink on your bedside table, and you know you have to be somewhere at 8:30am. Knowing the decision making process has become increasingly challenging, you decide to get up extra early, to wrestle through the process. I think I should take rightful ownership about now. This is what I do. I get up early. I sit on the edge of my bed, and I look around. I see the coffee, and the closet full of clothes. I look through the doorway to the bright and spacious living room. I know just on the other side of the bedroom is our sun filled sun room. So many palaces I through which to enter my day, before walking into the unknown.

But, guess what I do? I lay back down. No just an, "I'm going to rest for 5 more minutes." But, the kind that says, "I am pulling my covers up over my head and hoping nobody notices that I am still here." That's what I did yesterday. I had every intention of getting up and moving through my day. Though overwhelmed and quite sure I have been walking the fine tight rope of "breaking", I wake up each day convinced that if I can make it out of bed and into any room right outside my bedroom, I will be in the clear, success will be had. For appearance sake, let me reassure you, I know that I have many blessings, and this place of darkness is not the reality God chooses for me, or that I boldly reject. It seems to me, when an admittance of sadness or dare I say, depression is brought into a discussion, there are those who are collecting perceptions of their reality to disregard the very real nature of sadness that their friend or even stranger are enduring. For instance, the argument I would recount, and do recount to myself goes something like this,:

Look at your beautiful children. They are walking testimonies of God's love for you. And look at Chris. He couldn't love you more if he tattooed your name up and down his arm and across his forehead. Even if he did that, he'd probably be seeking out the next act of generosity to show his love. Look at your friends, Rosie, you are loved. There are people far and near who are able and willing to hear and love you. They won't fix it, and you don't want that, but they are available and they love you. And, Rosie, what about this Jesus Christ character you adoringly sing to and turn to when you can't understand cancer, death, tornadoes, back talking children, broken relationships. Is not God the ultimate answer to your darkness? Cling to Him, draw comfort from Him

So, you see, I know the wealth of goodness that stands in direct contrast to my heart of sadness. But, rather than explain one more time why I am sad, and whether that is right or wrong, I want to try to tell you what I think when I am standing at the door or have walked through the door of darkness unconsciously. Though I think darkness is the reflection of sin, I am referring to darkness as the sadness that settles into the soul when life and LIFE are juxtaposed.

The darkness of the day, is quite different than the darkness of the night in the soul. As evening descends, life slows down, and we are meant to be still and quiet. We are meant to ponder, and release the days events into the all-knowing, all-capable hands of our father. When darkness descends and the exchange of stress and fear isn't completed, I am often left quite lonely, wondering what to do with the heaviness. I get that place of frustration. There's an expectation for sleep to take over and refreshment to replace the darkness from the day before. But, what about the darkness that settles in the morning? Rather than talking vaguely here, I will attempt to share my experience yesterday. Though I am anxious and quite uncertain if this is the appropriate venue, I wonder if more than I feel this way, and it's some kept secret that I might be relieved of carrying. Though I may not be able to alter the course of some of these moments, I wonder if others can related to the pit of darkness and the confusion of moving through it.

Yesterday morning I woke up after about 6 hours of sleep. Pretty good for me. As I sat up on the bed, my head throbbing, and my legs aching, I was overcome with...darkness, despair, confusion. Overcome was the word of the day. I wasn't just overcome with dark emotions, I was overcome with a list of chores, activities, projects, obligations, and disappointments that caused my head to spin. Chris is so good to me, he asked who he needed to call to get me out of one or the other of my obligations. Though I appreciated his willingness to help, his offer further propelled my thinking into, "He doesn't think I can do it. He thinks there is something wrong with me." I don't want to be that person. Why did Chris jump so quickly to solve this with and for me? Because, he's seen it, up close and personal before. He's seen the weeks at a time of me sitting on the edge of the bed wondering where to start, and feeling resigned, I lay back down and pull the covers over my head. He doesn't allow this behavior to enable me, though he does. He just can't make decisions for me that I am unwilling to make for myself.

So, I did lay back down. I laid down and fell back to sleep. Every time I emerged from my denial, I would feel the unacceptable guilt that game with letting people down. I had obligations to be somewhere, and I didn't show up. I had failed. My children were at the pool with Chris, but wasn't I failing them too? And, God bless Chris, who I fail on a regular basis. There is a time your body needs to sleep. It needs to stop attempting to meed the never ending supply of demands. My body is pretty clear when that time has come. So, it's not entirely me avoiding my responsibilities. It's me acknowledging my top priority, listening to God and honoring what he has taught me about my own mental and physical health.

It's shameful for me to admit that I need that time, that I fall short because I have yet to able to balance what I want to do with what I can do. I wish I could help those who love me, or maybe love someone who struggles to, to understand that place, that moment when we get up. For you it may be different, but for me, the darkness comes in through the night, and greets me first thing in the morning.

I sit on the edge of my bed, knowing it is time to take the step. I feel my head pounding and I know I need to move through the moment. I can't let a headache dictate my day. (Usually this is the 3rd day of waking up with a headache, which gives me reason to pause that maybe I should be listening to myself on the first day and I wouldn't walk the next 24 hours quite the same way.) I start considering a shower and pulling my clothes. But, I am back on my bed, sitting, head in my hands. Chris walks in and asks what he can do. Nothing, there's nothing anyone can do. I have to shower, and I have to dress, and I want to lay back down. I used to get angry at this point. What is wrong with me? I got up just fine yesterday? What is wrong? I lay my head back down on the pillow and curl the covers into my fingers, drawing them to my face. Ahhh, comfort. This is safe. This is rest. Chris enters, "Honey, are you going to get moving? Do you want your coffee? Water?" I don't know. Sometimes I say the words, "I don't know". But, other times I just lay there, and shrug. Words are an effort, and answers are non existent.

How pathetic that must seem to my husband and children, and to some of you. And if it's not, it's probably because you know this place, or you know someone who does. If it's not considered pathetic, it may very well make you angry. It seems crazy to take the beautiful day, with all its blessings and trade it in for sleep and sadness. Don't I know hard some people really have it, and they get up every day, breathing and seeing the strength of God in every move they make. Oh, friends, I assure you, the brief moment of darkness described above is so inconsequential to the plight of those we know suffering with loved ones with cancer, or loss of a loved one, or unemployment, divorce, illness, broken relationships, etc... I in now way mean to elevate my moments to the enormity of what others are going through. I know God is in my midst as well as in the midst of others.

I guess I would like to share that once the decision to go back to bed is over, the dialogue doesn't stop in my head. I whip myself for not being stronger, or more capable. I fear losing what I have because I can't take care of it. I fear I am damaging my children and scarring my marriage. I feel desperately alone. I have friends who so sweetly, generously, and authentically would stand by my side, whatever that would look like. But, Ia m too ashamed to even admit that I didn't get out of bed. It's like, I am standing on a platform to catch a subway line or a bus. It's dark, but there are people around and the dim lights underground permit safety in seeing the surroundings. But, as the train pulls in, the lights fade for just a moment. Then the hustle and bustle of foot traffic as people move to where they need to be. All the while, I am 2 feet from the open door. But, I don't know if I am supposed to get on. I am not sure where it is going and if I will be able to function once I get there. The exchange of air as the door shuts sucks the air out of my chest, and I stand seeing the platform empty. There are no lights coming from the train that pulled away. There are still some dim lights, but the darkness down the track is complete

This cycle continues endlessly. There are opportunities to get going, move onto the train car that is moving, but fear is confining and paralyzing. The hope of interaction with someone who will say the words that snap you back becomes desperate. Crying out to Jesus, praying for His peace and comfort, His perfect understanding and direction to lead out of the moment gives some power and authority over the darkness, but the energy in begging saps the energy of moving. He is in my midst, even in the darkness. He sends his messengers to me through kind words, cards, texts, emails, and flowers. The darkness continues when I am unable to reciprocate or respond to the kindnesses of others. I have no words to describe what I am feeling, and any words I find can easily be rebuked and argued as to their truthfulness.

As desperate as I sound to want to get out of the darkness, and trust me, I am;I am pausing to consider the need for the darkness to teach me and lead me. I have had some very unpleasant situations and interactions in the past in my effort to avoid suffering and experiencing the darkness which serves as a mirror into my soul allowing me to adjust and realign myself more closely with God's direction and purpose. The problem with darkness, is most people are afraid of it. We can't see what's coming, we might trip or bump, we might fall, or run into something we don't want to deal with. So, I linger in the dark, pulling my covers up, avoiding the bumps and bruises and avoiding. I suppose there's a place for both responses. I need to slow down, sleep and pull the covers over my head. Otherwise I might be a bull in a candy shop. So many diversions that I might not make it through without destroying everything in my path.

Then comes the time when I have to get out of bed. I don't know which way to go after that. Breathe, show up for work. I know there will be a lot of laughter and a lot of opportunity to focus on the tangible work of getting things done. This won't be avoidance, it will interaction and production. It will be a blessing. I am glad I am not the sum of my darker days. I am also glad experience the light in direct contrast to the darkness because I appreciate it so much. I appreciate the sunshine in my soul when I own the truth of Christ's love for me. I feel like I need to clarify at these times so my friends know I know He loves me, all the time, everywhere, and always. My moments in darkness are not void of His presence. They are full of His love and His assurances. But, they are a time that I feel very separated from my family and friends. And though He is there, I feel lonely because it's not fun to be in the dark. Not a lot of people want to come sit in darkness, especially when they love you and want to make you feel better. But, God is there, sustaining, and protecting my from my weaker self.

There's so much more I can say on this topic. I am no expert, and I am only speaking from my place in time. My heart aches for those, who like me, wander in and out of darkness with the confused sense of loneliness and shame. We know the light, we own the truth of our Savior, and yet we humanly linger in areas of doubt and self-loathing. It's been a long couple of days. There are of course reasons why the darkness shrouded me, but it is in my response where I can reclaim some victory of who I am in Christ.

Birds, bathrooms, and blubbering

So, last night I am sitting outside in the fairly comfortable 98* weather at 8:00pm, and hear this awful flapping sound. It was not the typical chirping and scurrying of delightful creatures who have found our backyard their permanent residence. Nor was it the sound of our neighbor’s yard sprinklers which we hear fairly regularly despite the regulated twice a week watering restriction. I didn’t hear the splashing of children in the neighbor’s pool, nor was the typical and customary sound of little people giggling and yelling with childhood wonderment to be heard. I found myself in the very uncomfortable position of hearing slapping and flapping from two despicable creatures in the form of birds “making out”. Imagine the horror.

As many may know, birds are my least favorite of God’s creatures. They are dirty, disgusting, invasive, ill-mannered, infect-ridden, bug infested, flying rodents who spread disease and filth to all in their path. I carry great bitterness towards these animals as they were responsible for my miserable junior high years of ill-health from the disease I contracted from inhaling the spores from their fecal matter. It just gets more disgusting as you read, doesn’t it? Hystoplasmosis is a common illness that often goes undetected and untreated. Unfortunately, my lungs bear the scar of its presence in my body and my hospital stays in the effort to have the disease diagnosed are highlights of my junior high years. Yes, please imagine going to your 7th grade friends and telling them you got a disease from breathing in bird poop. That goes over really well. They thought I was really cool and people couldn’t wait to sit by me during lunch time. Of course, I could have not shared why I wasn’t at school, but then my sister and brothers would have been the lucky story tellers and they could have given it even more delightful visuals than I just shared.

Clearly, birds are gross. Them “making out” and perpetuating their existence in my very back yard was alarming and most unfortunate. Fortunately, this unpleasant occurrence pulled me out of my pathetic mind set of missing my family and friends and startled me back to the reality that there are far greater things to be disturbed by, such us the procreation of nasty creatures such as birds. Why would I give so much attention to the heart ache of disconnect from those I love when I can take my pent up frustration and bitterness and direct it where it rightfully deserves.

Isn’t that how it works. Even though we are given ample and justified heart break to contend with, we avoid and deflect so we can maintain the semblance of balance and the cover of control. I have found myself over the past week feeling the exterior presentation of control cracking and crumbling at the most inopportune times. For instance, in the pool restroom, I offered to hold the door shut for a little four year old girl who was trying to use the potty, but whose mom’s hands were filled with a 15-20 pound ball of energy in the form of a 1 year old. I was glad to hold the door so she could step out with the baby. There I was, holding the door, and chatting with a friend, when it hit me. I have been avoiding my sister, who confronted me angerly about my lack of priorities and my disregard for her feelings when it came to spending time with her family. Of course, this awareness had nothing to do with the bathroom, or the 4 year old using it, but, since I had already gone down the path of disgust and crudity, I thought I would carry on the visual. (Thanks for indulging me.)

I had been discussing an unrelated situation where the same sentiments were being felt by someone else. In the moment of awareness, I thought, my sister may very well be right. I have not got my priorities straight. I do enjoy my friends and I do spend my time with them sometimes at the expense of my extended family. Our move to Texas also further alienated me from my friends who had become like family due to the proximity and the presence in our life. Not because I don’t already have a great family by birth right, but because I have never lived close enough to honor that relationship through a community of love and service to one another on a daily basis. When my car would break down, or I couldn’t pick up a child at school due to a work conflict, my neighbors would be the family I called for help. Likewise, when my sister or brother’s children were sick, I didn’t get to deliver a meal or relieve them of child care duties so they could take a shower or go to the store. I wasn’t able to support them the way I could my friends; not for lack of desire, but out of circumstance.

So, here I am, holding the stall door shut, and tears welled up in my eyes. Not only that, I literally had to cry. Not just a little silent cry, but the body shaking, loud sobbing’ish kind of cry. Can you imagine what that 4 year old little girl must have been thinking? Oh my word. CRAZY LADY has me locked in the potty. She is unstable and she is not going to let me out. Of course, I am sitting there thinking, “Oh my goodness, the Holy Spirit is meeting me right here in the pool’s bathroom. How great is this? I wish I had fixed my hair and put on some makeup for this unexpected visit with the Most High God.” I really didn’t know what was happening. It was as if a light bulb went off in my head. I am not sure if the crying was out of relief because I had been praying for awareness to be shown on the situation with my sister. Or if I was crying because, once the light bulb went off I thought the light would blind me and I immediately needed it to be turned off. I didn’t want to see what the light was showing me because I had come up with some pretty good arguments in support of my position with my sister.
It wasn’t long before I remembered the child in the stall, and looked into the eyes of my friend and began laughing about the hilarity of the moment. I had clued her into what I was thinking, and then said, “I think I have been convicted right here and now. Even as I stand here, chatting with my friend, my family is sitting out in the car waiting for me to get in so we can get home and have some family time. How’s that for my priorities? I can’t even put my immediate family first.” Once the little one was safely reunited with the mother who had walked into see me standing at the stall door with my tear streaked face, I collected my things and walked out to the car. I was also struck by how crying is such a highlighter of discomfort. You see someone who has been crying and you immediately change your tone and temperament to offer sympathy and or to avoid having to get too close to the obviously emotionally raw moment that just erupted and may not quite have passed. So my husband adjusted his tone, cocked his head, and sweetly said, “Are you ok?”

“Of course I am ok. Why do you ask? Is it because my nose is bright red, my makeup is streaking down my face and the rest of my complexion is blotchy? I am great. No worries. Sorry for making you wait.” I know he would have given me a good talking to about my awareness being slightly skewed as we all have responsibilities to love and care for one another, and I can’t possibly be fully responsible for the decline in my relationship with my sister. I know he is right. It was just awareness that I had resisted taking seriously.
The tears have continued to be close to the surface. There is so much filtering and sifting through emotions that I can’t quite make out what is happening. The tears feel good though. In as strange and slightly uncomfortable way, it is comforting to feel and respond to the variety of emotions coming into my awareness. I don’t want to avoid the voice of God speaking to my heart. Nor do I want to take for granted the very good gifts of distraction and levity that reminds me of how amazing it is to live and love freely. Each time God takes me to a place of turning the lights down and sitting with me as I face the darkness of circumstances both created and injected into my life; He also offers enough light to see His love to move through the darkness. Sometimes that light is in the beams through the eyes of 4 year olds in bathroom stalls, the laughter with a friend over a meal at Olive Garden or over a game of Slug Bug which leaves bruises the size of apples (which I seriously can’t help, I am just that strong). Sometimes the light is seen through the exchange of stories about children and the challenges that we face in this world of competition and chaos. Often times, the light is seen in a text or a fb note, or a words with friend beep that comes just when I need to be reminded to get out of my head and back into the moment. And, yes, I guess God leads me out of the darkened places in my soul through the awful flapping and smacking of his most disgusting of creatures. He can walk beside me as I glimpse at the darkness of my past, but then he gently leads me back into the light of His goodness, even giving me reminders of His sense of humor and comical nature, through those nasty, ill-mannered fowl.
Praying you see glimpses of his light even in the midst of whatever darkness you may be experiencing. Don’t avoid going through; instead, enjoy the flickering and flashes that He has generously planned for you.

Time for a bath

We are getting baptized tomorrow. Yes, I will be getting my hair wet in front of the whole church! I know that's not what it's about, but I have to admit, I have fretted over this fact. And, as I assured my husband, when God is ready to address my vanity, I feel certain He will catch my attention and I will feel compelled to reconsider my current stance on this very public exposure. I guess, to a certain extent, God is addressing my vanity as we speak. Tomorrow, I am laying aside my desire to keep up a polished, groomed, and dry physical appearance and am proudly proclaiming my love and adoration for Jesus and His presence, leadership, and power in my life.

I was baptized as a baby, and I know that my parents were committing at that moment to teach me about Jesus. I know the community of faith they belonged to also committed to serving and loving me as Christ's body. I believe my parents have done what they promised to do. I have been taught about Jesus, His love, His gift, His forgiveness, and His power. Being provided opportunities to experience various denominations, I have seen the spirit move in each and every congregation. We have experienced the love and support of Christ across denominational boundaries and feel blessed to know Christ through His followers. Tomorrow, we will be baptized at Pioneer Drive Baptist Church. Though baptism by immersion is a part of the process of becoming a member of the church, it is by no means the process by which we have become Christians. Colin, Julia, Chris and I will each be baptized as a living testament of our love and commitment to Jesus Christ. It has been important to me for my children to know that baptism is not an insurance policy you purchase to go to heaven.

I have appreciated the way the church, its staff, and the pastor has educated and informed us on the process and the meaning of baptism. I held reservations, and they were deeper than my resistance to getting my hair wet. To me, I felt like baptism, was testifying to a new found decision, acknowledgement, or commitment to following Jesus. To me, that would negate the lifetime of experiences (thus far) that God has led and directed me through. It would be as if they weren't legitimate in some way. But, I do know that is not what baptism represents, and I have been so thankful that people, including my family have been patient with me as I have come to understand and learn how God uses and blesses through baptism.

Even having realized this, I have had reservations, a heaviness. Couldn't put words to the feelings. Still not sure I can. But, I think, in my effort to connect with the experience we are going through tomorrow, the past which holds rich meaning, and the future unknowns, I will try. In my mind, baptism seems like a very vulnerable experience. In the past, I have stood in front of congregations holding babies, holding hands with children, singing in services or ceremonies; all very public moments. But, I have also felt very demoralized, abandoned, and judged by the audiences, the faith bodies where I shared and served. Before anybody gets up in arms about this statement, inferring I am meaning you have done something to injure me, I know what I felt may not have been intentioned, and I know my reality is not necessarily the truth. It is what I felt, it is my reality, and it is in no way a statement on the love or commitment of congregations of any church we have belonged. My feelings were what they were, and they are what they are. I own them and I accept that my experiences had more to do with my own actions than any one's actions toward me. As I said, I don't know if I can put words to what I feel.

I sang on Palm Sunday in front of our new congregation, and then again on Easter. It was a relief to experience these moments without the anxiety that had become the norm when I sang in worship services. But, when we moved to the front of the congregation to be welcomed after we moved forward in faith to join the church, I was so anxious. Hand me a baby, let me chat with some children, or sing a song, and I will happily take the mic right out of your hand. But, have me stand, vulnerable, transparent, with all my flaws and mistakes seemingly fully exposed, and I am not signing up for that. I don't want my actions to be used against me in the future. "You're a Christian, and you're doing that?" "I thought being a Christian meant you weren't going to do that anymore." Nor do I want to see Satan rear its ugly head at my family because we are living testimonies of Christ's love and forgiveness.

Fear would like to take hold and inhibit me from being...ME. I don't want to offend, be found guilty, do the wrong thing, or hurt others. So, I would like to avoid putting myself in vulnerable situations that sometimes prove to do all that I don't want to do. I hurt because I speak. I offend because I don't think. I am guilty because I am human. I do the wrong thing because I am a sinner. Being me is who God created me to be. It's not who I am, because sin and darkness are the reality I have been born into. But, with His forgiveness, His love, His acceptance, I will continue to learn more about myself through Him and through others who serve Him. This may sound lofty. Let me assure you, I am a sinner. I have made mistakes, hurt people, made bad decisions, gone through darkness (even after accepting Christ in my life, in fact, maybe within the past hour), and struggle with the nature of who I am. My anxiety is most attributable to the fact that I have sinned and I am afraid. But, tomorrow, I am confident that God will make our baptisms just what He wants them to be. He will be there. I will show up, and I will trust in His love, forever, and always.

New Day

A new day has dawned. Osama Bin Laden is dead. It has been 10 years since our world changed in the blink of an eye, in the devastation of a nation. It's hard to imagine what it was like before September 11, 2001. After that fateful day, none of us looked into the air, heard a plane, or walked into an airport the same way again. If you have a memory of that day, you know that your life forever changed as you saw those buildings fall, as you saw pictures of the pentagon, or the field of flames in Pennsylvania. I don't know if we so readily can recall the other moments that change our lives. How many of us have different hearts and minds because of that one moment? But, how many of us have experienced pain, sorrow, joy, relief, love, and hate that maybe didn't get etched in our memory in a single moment of terror or excitement?

I know I have had moments, days, weeks, months and years of both pain and joy causing a transformation in my heart. I can't recall the day, or the exact moment, but I can recall colors of memories that mark an experience that forever changed my spirit. Often times, I recall the darkness of a time in my life which felt out of control, disorderly, confusing, frustrating, and heavy. I remember not being certain of who I was, or who was safe. I spent the time avoiding myself, avoiding others, and avoiding the anger I felt. Whole years of dark memories where glimpses of light peered through sporadically. Those lights were the people who showed God's love and acceptance when I didn't feel it about myself. My mom and dad who gave me everything they could and when I needed something else, they weren't too proud to ask for help. The lights were my friends and their parents. They cared for my heart and reminded me of the way God loves.

There is also the recent past where periods of light and wholeness has transformed my spirit. Thank you Jesus for giving me the people who are sources of your light and love. A year ago we were just beginning to see that God's plans for us were different that we understood them to be. God is like that you know. It's not as if we weren't following His lead. It's just that it took us a while to understand that He had changed our direction. We didn't get a memo, or a card in the mail. Neither did we receive a phone call, text, or fb message. We had to gauge from the decisions of others that we were no longer meant to continue where we were.

One might think that made for another period of darkness, confusion, unknowns. But, really, it was a time of brightness as we began to understand the vast network of support from friends and family. I was surprised to see some in our network of friends fall away. My heart does grieve these lost relationships, but more importantly, my heart is strengthened by those who love us even though we aren't as close. I also couldn't be more blessed than I am with the group of friends that God has laid in our path. I know my heart is being transformed by the brightness of this time in my life. I wish I could mark on the calendar the day that a light was shared. It seems that each day provides a new light, a new opportunity to explore the richness of God's gifts.

Though I don't know what the coming days will bring, I will know that along with each dark day, God provides days of light and freedom that only He can provide. He will use us to offer that to others. But, it is God who knows how to balance the darkness with light and goodness. His heart surely broke for his children on 9/11/2001. I imagine his heart is breaking today as he sees his children frolicking in hatred. I am trusting that joy and love will overshadow the darkness of these days. Some of us will have a transformational moment to mark on the calendar, and others of us will remember the people and the periods of time when light prevailed. I am not looking forward to the painful days ahead, but I am looking forward with hope that His light and love will flow freely through me and to me.

Thank you Jesus!

It's been so long since I have had a cohesive thought and the time to sit and write it down. I almost had myself convinced I was incapable of both, thinking and writing. But, on the eve of this last Friday in April, 2011, I attempt to formulate a thought and write it down. Don't get your hopes up that I say anything, but thank you for indulging me in this moment.

We live in Texas. I know this may come as news to some of you, and to be honest, I am still adjusting to the idea. But, we are Texans. It's crazy, isn't it. I am not sure we can really be considered Texans since we are transplants from the east coast and Midwest. But, I long for the day when my hair is as big as a native born Texan, and my cooking widens the waist line of all those who enter my home. Give me time, I will achieve both. Though the heat and wild fires might give you the impression we have moved into hell, God is alive and well in this little town in the big state of Texas.

I feel the past year has been full of more challenges and more sadness than I have ever remembered or care to relive. I don't want to test that, because I know struggles are real in each life, and some struggles cause more pain and suffering than I can begin to comprehend. What I am comprehending these days is how much God loves me. We moved to this town with all the love of family and friends that anyone could be lucky enough to have realized in a lifetime. Our hearts had been challenged by situations personal and professional, but there was never a question that we were supported by loving, loyal, and unyielding encouragers. Saying goodbye has never been easy for me, and leaving Bloomington, Illinois was no different. I am so glad that technology is a part of my life so I can maintain relationships even though I am hundreds of miles from friends and family.

I could never have imagined I would find a home so far from home. But, God could. He knew in the midst of the darkness I struggled in; as friendships died, my soul ached, and my family grieved, that within the year my husband would be thriving in his career and providing for us emotionally and financially. He knew my children would be fully engaged in school, church, sports, and the arts. He knew we would see them growing spiritually, emotionally, and physically. He knew I would be laughing with my friends, playing with children, singing songs, and rejoicing in His rich plans for my life. I wish I could show each of you how special and unique you each are in the landscape of my life and the life of my family.

For those of you who know the darkness I am referring to, I want you to know, I am breathing easily and fully. You know the days when I didn't want to get out of bed, when I was afraid to go to church, and when the tears overshadowed the laughter. You held my hand, kicked my butt, and absorbed the tears that I couldn't restrain. I wish you were here with me today friends. You would see a Rosie that is full of joy and energy. It isn't because I am not with you, but because I am where God wants me to be. For those friends who are now the blessed (or cursed) recipients of my family and all the chaos we wreak on those we love, God is pretty funny, isn't he? You didn't know last year that the Hollingsworths would be bumbling into town, with our big mouths, our unkempt cars, and our abundance of drama. But, you have wrapped your arms around us. Thank you.

Such healing has come from knowing that I can be loved and accepted, as I am. I know it is God who is healing my heart, but you have been such willing participants in the process. You, who listened to me cry about the broken relationship with my sister. You, who caught my heart before it was shattered by insult and anger. You, who held my hand as I tried to grasp my father's absence in this world. You, dear friend, who made me laugh about the irony of life. You, whose sarcasm and humor brought me into the moment and out of my ever darkening thoughts. You, who gave me a hug, brought me a diet coke, gave me a tea mug, a cup of coffee, some zucchini bread, a Cavender's hamburger, a holiday meal, a candle, a bar of lotion (which I seriously love), an uplifting text, a phone call, or fb post. It is you, and your generous acceptance and love that reminds me that there is a God who redeems and strengthens. There is such joy in knowing that God gives us just who and what we need, just when and how we need it. As I see the unfolding of the coming days, even the next few weeks, as seniors graduate and new adventures arise, it is with unashamed optimism and confidence that I proclaim the goodness of our great God, whose blessings are abundant, generous, and glorious for you and for me. Thank you Jesus.

Arkansas Awareness

It has been great getting away to Arkansas with the family. Though some initial hesitations created anxiety, I am happy to report that the visit has gone without incident and we all seem to be enjoying what the Bay has to offer. Quiet, respite, peace, outdoors, sounds of water hitting the shore, docks rocking in the river, an occasional motorized water vehicle, the birds singing, the 4 wheelers racing down the road, and the sound of trees brushing the branches of their neighbor. It is in these sounds and in the presence of a God who gives great gifts that I have had a opportunity to consider how He loves me and He calls me to love others. I can in no way articulate what He continues to teach me about my own heart. In my effort to care for others, I have often fallen short. In so doing, I have suffered the consequences of not being in line with God's desire and leading in my life.

Though forgiveness reconciles my heart to His, I have not been able to reconcile other relationships through forgiveness. Perhaps, the forgiveness I most desire is the forgiveness I need to extend to myself. In the weeping and grieving that took me to my knees, I begged for forgiveness from my God, from my community, from my dear friend and from her family and friends. I know God forgives me. It's His promise and His nature to maintain relationship and commitment to me throughout all the days of my life. It's that same promise He offers you. On our best days and our worst days, He wants nothing more than to reconcile brokenness and pain and extend grace and comfort. So much peace has come to my heart knowing that God will not punish me for my inadequacies. Even as others may question and find fault with who I am and who God created me to be, my God will love me and secure his loving arms of protection around me.

Forgiving myself has taken more soul searching than accepting God's forgiveness and accepting the lack of response and reconciliation from others. Realizing I have hurt some in ways that I never intended and can never repay causes my heart to burn with grief and sorrow. I wish so badly that I could go and lay these burdens at the altar of the hearts of those who have felt injured at my hand. Would I then be able to forgive myself? Maybe, if I work extra hard with my new relationships to prove that I am generous and kind, the forgiveness will be easier for me to accept. Or, if I can love someone with abundance and gentleness I will find myself worthy enough to forgive.

As much as I would like that to be the case, I don't believe my actions or lack thereof will ever be substantial enough to justify forgiveness to myself. Rather, I believe it is in complete and utter abandon of my own judgement that I will receive the forgiveness I desire. I can live the rest of my life feeling guilty and ashamed of who I was and what I have done. Or, I can honor the promises of God cleansing power and accept forgiveness on my own behalf. Not sure if I have waited so long to do this because I believe I should be punished by the plaguing guilt and sadness of loss and supposed abandonment. Or, maybe I just didn't know if others would think I didn't realize the enormity of my failure. Maybe, I just didn't see moving forward and opening my heart to sharing, loving and receiving was an option. The perseverance and reassurance of my close friends have been the life saving grace that God offered me over the past few years. It is their love and confidence in me as a person, a mother, a daughter, a sister, a wife, and a friend that made the difference between me withdrawing into my world of persecution and self destruction, and entering the world each day to be blessed by its offerings and potential.

Now, I find myself hearing these birds and breathing in the scent of the magnolia blossoms and beginning to accept that punishing, ridiculing, and accepting the lies is only keeping me from enjoying in fullness all that God offers me as gifts. The moment I claimed Him as my own, He accepted me, full of failure and darkness. But, He made me new. He continues to make me new each and every time I turn to Him and offer myself and ask for His cleansing power to wash away the darkness of my human heart. He agrees to do so, and I accept. Now, I have to be as willing to forgive myself so I can truly claim my inheritance as His daughter. What a testament it will be to walk boldly into each new moment knowing that all I have to offer and receive is offered with a full spirit and an open heart. No longer will fear or shame be a motivating factor in the choices I make to love and serve others.

It is with this hope and joy that I accept the gifts of friendships I have right here and now. Clinging to people and moments from the past in hopes of a door opening, a kind word spoken, a renewed, reconciled relationship have to be left alone and abandoned in order to receive what God is offering me right now. My joy cannot be contained in the hope I have for my family's future in this place. As often as I have apologized for past actions and decisions, I have in equal proportion been thankful for God's reminders of forgiveness and love as he strategically offers new relationships with amazing people. Never failing to pray for reconciliation and forgiveness, I willingly accept the offering of friendship and life this new time brings. Not rejecting the past or wishing it away, but thanking God for the past that brings me to today, I willingly and whole heartedly rejoice.