Pretty Pictures

I kind of wanted to blog about how grumpy I have been today. Things didn't go my way, and I was more than a little upset about it. I know I am a grown-up. We are supposed to know how to handle bad days, disappointments, and aches in the pits of our souls. Well, at least that's what I thought. But, I am not going to spend my blogging session on the sadness, or the frustrations. I want to share some pictures of beauty and joy that remind me that I am still a child.

I see something special in the eyes of my friend. Through pain and struggles, she has adapted to a path all her own. Where there was darkness, lies, and despair; there is now a glimmer of light and promise. It isn't the promise of a pain free life, or an easy, unhindered path. It's the promise of hope that comes in knowing that there is a light so much brighter than the darkness. Maybe it is the light she sees in the eyes of the young people around her. Maybe, it is the spark that sets her heart on fire when thinking about the future which offers a brighter experience than the past. Whatever brings this reality of hope, I pray it continues to ease the suffering of the past. I pray it encourages her well-worn heart to keep trying to live in the joy that He created her to be for Himself, and for those who love her.

My heart has been renewed by the light in the eyes of my friend. She spoke to me in my darkness and reminded me of His love when my heart hurt too much to remember for myself. Her words, her deeds, and her acceptance transformed moments of gloom into moments of blessed assurance that I am His and He is mine, no matter what, and always. This is no easy task. The thoughts and beliefs that each of us allow to run rampant in our darkest moments, are not always "truths". They aren't realities that we can claim as our own. They are our shadows, our darkest selves trying to be heard and understood. That doesn't mean they are "truths". Just as a child would say, "I hate you mom. You didn't let me get the ice cream cone at the store."; our darker sides would like to perpetrate hate against us so we can feel ashamed for not being all that we want or need to be. The child doesn't really hate us, they are mad. So too, we become mad at ourselves and live in that moment; with the lies, and the hate. But, I have felt loved, and accepted even in my darker moments by a friend who could see God's gifts in me when I was unwilling to receive them. I do see the joy in her eyes, and I am thankful.

Perhaps the most profound joy and peace I have experienced lately has been when I have stopped to look at my daughter. I don't mean that my son isn't full of this light and life that I am about to explain, but my awareness of his spirit has been more defined in the past. He is a few years older. He has a defined personality that I get. It isn't complete and it's not perfect, but I get it. It is full of the complexities of mine and my husband's best and worst attributes. And, then, he has an essence that is all his own. It is fun seeing him come into his own.

But, my daughter has been changing right before my very eyes over the past few weeks. Her laugh, her smile, her tears, and her light are all moving in directions that are different and unique. They are completely beautiful and joyful. The purity of her tears is a sight to behold. She feels and responds with such intensity and integrity. She relays stories and experiences in such vivid detail. Not only does she retell them, but she explains and comments with her insights and interpretation. I am intrigued and mesmerized. Never did I imagine being a part of someone who has such beauty and potential for good. Her life reflects an outlook of love and appreciation that makes me proud to be known as her mom. I don't know how much responsibility I can take in this great development of a person. But, I will look into her eyes and know that my darkest moments were not in vain.

Blessings for today were not observed without a great deal of tears. I cried out of sorrow for those that I miss; for the life that is that I don't understand; for the pain that I cause in other's lives; for the loneliness I experience when I feel unheard or misunderstood. But, it is an honor to live and love through this confusion. It allows me the opportunity to appreciate, honor, and learn from the joy and light of the people with whom I walk this path. I am lucky to have such beautiful pictures to remind me of who I am when I don't have the energy to see it for myself.

Some say love...

I am not sure what it means that everything I just wrote deleted when I went to post. Is that what love is? I had a whole blog about how Bette Midler has been singing in my head all day. She doesn't even know the words to the song. "Some say love, it is a river, that blah, blah, blah, blah, blah." Really Bette, you should know the words to the song by now. If you don't, you shouldn't harass me by singing the song in my head.

I can't believe it all deleted. Tell me to "let it go", "move on", "shake it off". I am trying, but the effort, the thought, the flow is lost now. All I can think is that I was trying to suggest that love couldn't be boxed in or confined. We would like to think of love as this finite thing, but really, it is so far outside of the realm of our thought that we can't fathom it. I wish we could. I try to, but it moves outside the scope of my understanding.

Now that I have already written the blog once, I am kind of done thinking about it. I am going to move on to reading about love. Not the kind of love in a romance novel, but the amazing love that I can't understand. The kind of love that accepts, forgives, and serves. It is not something I can put into words. It doesn't look like a river, or a razor, or a rose. Those pictures are telling and descriptive, but, they are not the love that I hope I can experience or offer. In reality, I know I won't experience this extravagant kind of love until I am on the other side of this life. Until then, I want to experience life and love in such rich, full, and life-changing ways that I won't settle for anything less.

Some say love, it is a river
that drowns the tender reed.
Some say love, it is a razor
that leaves your soul to bleed.
Some say love, it is a hunger,
an endless aching need.
I say love, it is a flower,
and you its only seed.

It's the heart afraid of breaking
that never learns to dance.
It's the dream afraid of waking
that never takes the chance.
It's the one who won't be taken,
who cannot seem to give,
and the soul afraid of dyin'
that never learns to live.

When the night has been too lonely
and the road has been too long,
and you think that love is only
for the lucky and the strong,
just remember in the winter
far beneath the bitter snows
lies the seed that with the sun's love
in the spring becomes the rose

Feelings: good or bad...

I have found joy today. It is taking some effort to remind myself to keep looking and to remember it, but I did find it, several times. Not sure why this evening is proving difficult in remembering these joys. Reading some great books that have really got me thinking, and I think "thinking" can sometimes inhibit the joy that comes in just "being". Both books, (yes, I am reading them at the same time), would agree with my assumption. One takes the angle of the physiological make up of the brain, and the other takes the angle of the emotional spectrum and how those feelings affect daily life.

Empathic people generally feel what others feel. They are attune to what is happening on a metaphysical plain, and they often reverberate the emotions of those they are around. Good thing, right? Sometimes. However, without proper guidance, direction, and awareness, being empathic can lead you into chaos. It is easy to get absorbed in the emotional states that others are experiencing. Though that leads to a certain amount of empathy, it can also lead to a great amount of confusion. I am not sure I am all that empathic, but I do believe that I can easily associate with the emotions that others feel. I want to connect with people. I want to know their pains and triumphs. The upside is, I laugh a lot. It is easy for me to enjoy the joy in others. I can easily gain energy and enthusiasm just being in a room with people who are expressive and passionate. They don't have to be speaking to me directly in order for me to "feel" the energy.

The downside, I easily absorb sorrow and pain. This is not to say that I understand the pain or have lived through it, but I can relate to the emotion and quickly move into the realm of darkness and sadness. Many of my close friends know this from first hand experience. You have stood by me as I related to the pain in those that God offered in my path. Diane, you in particular, know from several summers of turmoil how easily I could enter the chaos of suffering and need to find resolve or at least a sense of purpose in the midst of it. It's so interesting to now realize that it is a manageable personality trait that needs to be cultivated and directed. God gave me a heart to feel, and to feel intensely. He has also equipped me with the ability to learn from past experiences and to grow in faith while experiencing pain and sorrow.

It is no one's fault that I so easily entered the confusion of those in my midst, or maybe it is my own confusion that prompted the response in others. I have no doubt I entered relationships with the very best of intentions. But, without understanding, and awareness; I quickly delved into the chaos and pain of the moment. I felt the suffering, the pain, the confusion, and I entered into those moments making my own life full of pain, confusion, and suffering. God bless those who walked beside me in these moments. My family, my friends, my church. They are the ones who could see the disorder and chaos in which I was trying to exist. This realization is so not about those with whom I was in relationship. It is about God's voice in my life today and His directing me to open to His awareness instead of relying on my own. Nowhere in this do I feel like I am being punished or directed to not feel. If anything, I am encouraged to develop the qualities that He has given me so He can use me to His purpose.

There are spiritual, physiological and emotional explanations for why I feel and respond to life the way I do. What I wish for right now is the opportunity to rebuild, develop, sustain, explore and build relationships that would glorify God. So many times, I think I know what that means. I have a spiritual "call", or a "divine" or "inspired" relationship to cultivate. There must be something "spiritual" that I am meant to gain. That may very well be true. God also wants me to laugh because life is funny. He wants me to "feel" the great depth of emotions that He has allowed us to experience. For the past while, (maybe 2 years or so), I have felt like I am not supposed to feel, not supposed to respond or trust who I am or who God made me to be. I have felt that for good reason. My responses caused pain to others. It wasn't intentional. God has forgiven me, and I pray in time, I will be forgiven by those who felt such pain by my actions and words.

It would be easy for me to take the past and categorize my responses as "good" or "bad", "black" or "white", "sinful" or "righteous". In reality, I don't know if I know the difference sometimes. God purposed me to do something in this world, and only He is prepared to sit in judgement of how I fulfill His work in my life. Even those very behaviors which could be condemned as "wrong" served a purpose to His plan. He knew me before I walked this path, and He created me with all that He imagined. He prepared my heart for the joy and the sorrow. He knew I would walk in this humanity making mistakes and struggling. He also knew that the love He had for me is greater than any mistake or misdeed that I could ever do or be blamed.

Maybe this is just me trying to justify my humanity; my flawed, evil, and weak spirit that seeks comfort and relief from pain without experiencing the suffering which will grow my spirit into the soul He created me to be. Either way, I find myself this evening wishing I could accept the truth, forgive the past, and walk in the light of His love. I also seek to apologize for the chaos that I might have brought into the experiences of others. I didn't mean to be a stumbling block or a hindrance. My lack of awareness and ignorance could certainly have been the rock in your path that made you stumble and fall. I pray for your heart and mind as well, that you would accept the truth, forgive the past, and walk in the light of His love.

So, what does any of that have to do with the books I am reading, or why I am struggling to keep the joy at the forefront of my mind? Both books are reminding me to breathe. To breathe in His spirit and to breathe in the strength of who He made me to be. They are also teaching me that I need to balance breathing in His spirit and remaining this world of human failure and misunderstanding. This balance of who we want to be, and who we are, is not easily maintained. It doesn't make sense sometimes. So, prayers for strength and understanding for you as you strive to balance; whether in darkness, or light, I pray you will see God's work in your life.

Which melon to try today?

Today I am challenged to understand...melons. We were given the most delicious melon last weekend by a friend. She picked up a Jerusalem melon at a farmer's stand somewhere a few hours away from here. It was amazing. I am not too particular about melons, but this one, I am speechless. It's flesh was white, or creamish colored. Not pink or orange like a watermelon or cantaloupe. We had it for dessert for several nights until it was all gone:(.

FYI: Jerusalem Melon: an ordinary Egyptian melon, the sweet, juicy and succulent flesh of which is much valued. It possesses the property of quenching thirst. Its seeds are used for making sedative and tranquillising drinks. Its flesh is used in the manufacture of excellent ices, bombes, etc. It is eaten like melon.

So today, at the the HEM store, (Or HEB or HEE, or some store that started with an H. It was very large, very busy, and the shelves were being stocked at 4:00pm on a Saturday. I don't know what to think about that.) I tried to find a Jerusalem melon. I found watermelons, muskmelons, white watermelons, cantaloupe, and then this mystery melon that I purchased. I am so bummed I don't remember the name of it. With hope and anticipation, I cut the melon open. To my discontent, the melon was orange, just like a cantaloupe. Evidently, cantaloupe is not my husband's favorite melon. So, his inclination was to pass. But, I encouraged him, thinking, "Maybe, just maybe, this melon will be surprisingly amazing like the Jerusalem melon." It was not. Colin said it tasted like a pumpkin and cantaloupe combined. I rather liked it. It was no Jerusalem melon, but it wasn't bad.

Now, as I think about it, I am wondering what I was thinking. Why would I think that this melon, which was not a Jerusalem melon, would taste, look, or in anyway resemble the Jerusalem melon. Wishful thinking, I guess. I was hoping that I would find the same delicious experience with this distant cousin of the melon family. I still liked the melon, but, it was just not the same.

Expectations get me every time. I was expecting one thing, and I got another. So much of life is like that. There should be no surprise in the reality that I didn't get what I expected. When handed the delicious bowl of Jerusalem melon, we all tasted it with hesitation and caution. "It doesn't look like any melon I have ever tasted before." "I am not even a big fan of melons in general." To our great surprise and delight, our expectations were exceeded. What a relief. What an unexpected gift. Life is all fine and good when expectations are exceeded.

But, often times, expectations are met, or rather, are not met or exceeded. Situations, circumstances, and yes, melons, result with far less than we expect or desire. This begs the question, do you continue to explore the unknown world of melons, even knowing that you may be disappointed? Of course! Not! You have to keep exploring, right. There are so many different types of melons. And sure, you may run across one that you love, but the next may be a dismal failure. But, you have to keep trying new melons. Don't give up, don't change fruits, don't quit.

(OK, I have to admit, the choice of subject matter seems a little...odd. Because the term "melon" can sometimes refer to something other than the fruit, this might have some unintentional connotations. Super sorry. Didn't mean to take it there if you weren't thinking that. But, if you were, that's not what I mean. I am strictly referring to the fruit group of melons. Many of you might not have realized there are so many different types, sizes, shapes, qualities, colors, and tastes that encompass the "melon" family. I didn't either. Now get your head out of the gutter, and get out there, and try some melons.)

Abilinian Anniversary

I have to admit that I feel a little hypocritical offering my marriage up to celebrate. It seems as though 15 years is a milestone, and yet, it has certainly not been without stumbles. It's not usually a good idea to "air" the dirty laundry that is our lives. We remember, highlight, and rejoice each passing year as a success because we've made it to the date on the calendar that we began our journey, or that everyone began the journey with us. It's the day we stood in front of friends and family promising to walk this life together. We invited the people we thought would support and love us along the way. As I stood next to Chris on my wedding day, I remember clearly turning to look at the people who were sitting in the pews of the church where I had grown as a Christian and as a person. I remember seeing my mom and dad, and Chris' family. I remember looking at the beautiful women who stood beside me; my sister, my sister-in-law, and my dear friend Karen.

I know that our wedding anniversary is about the life we have walked together. But, we are lucky to have not walked alone. If we had been left alone, I feel certain I would have taken Chris out within the first year of marriage. In fact, I remember the exact moment that I wanted to do just that. I was stressed to the max. Preparing for a piano "exam" where I was supposed to be able to play chord progressions that any music major should be able to do. I lost my temper and threw a drink, I diet coke probably, across the room at Chris. Not sure the specifics of my outrage, but it probably had something to do with my own inadequacies and fear rather than anything that Chris had done or said. So clear was the look of shock and disgust in his face that I can't forget it. I knew in that moment that I needed help.

I did get help, and I continue to seek help. I was mad at so much. My Chris was the naive fellow who promised to take me on as a bride. With all the anger, contempt, disgust, and ineptness that I had collected in 22 years, I offered myself to him. He accepted, poor guy. How he managed to put up with me in those early years is mindboggling. It's not as if after the first few years I was much better. But, by the time my Colin came along, I had managed to get a few things in order. Or, at least I thought I had. Maybe I just became better at disguising the disorder. Either way, those seemed like great times in our marriage. We struggled, don't get me wrong, but being poor and singing seems like the high life now. Colin was a great baby and he continues to surprise us with his beautiful spirit when we least expect it.

Let's call those early years our Binghamton years. Then came our Champaign years. How I wish they had been CHAMPAGNE years. But, Chris was getting his doctorate at the University of Illinois, and I was pretending to get mine. I just wanted to sing and play with my kiddos. So that's what I did. Julia came along after a grueling pregnancy where I was on bedrest for the majority of the 8 months that I was pregnant. She arrived 5 weeks early and I couldn't have been more relieved or satisfied with my life, our life. Chris worked hard, I worked hard at 3 different jobs trying to piece meal together a living while taking care of my 2 kids and my husband. Our friends were our family. Just as friends in Binghamton became the family who saw us through the highs of opening nights, and the lows of losing a child; our Champaign friends saw us through the nights of lost sleep and the days of fever and tears. We were never alone in our efforts, thankfully.

Then there were the Normal years. Not the "normal" years, but the Normal years. Moving from Champaign to Normal was just an hour in distance, but was a totally new world for us. A "real" job for Chris. Then came a sort of "real" job for me. The struggles of raising a family and having a career epitomize our time in Normal. They say that discontent in the workplace wreaks havoc on one's homelife far more than havoc at home wreaks on the workplace. It's probably because we end up spending the majority of our waking hours at work. Sometimes that's 8 hours a day, if you're lucky. But, most careers require more time and at least brain energy that a given day allows. Unfortunately, our families are often the sacrifice that is offered to accomodate the demands of a career. Workplace discontent seems like an understatement. Now, looking back, I see how much I loved the discontent. It was discontent and turmoil because I loved what I did and it hurt to see people that I grew to love and respect in pain. But, Normal was where God had planted us, and the dear friends and neighbors grew our hearts and kept us grounded when life seemed too much.

Bloomington was the great place that we moved to next. We fell in love with a neighborhood, and then we found a house where we could become a part of it. It's strange because I think of Bloomington as being the place where my heart broke and my life unravelled in disorder and chaos. But, it is also the brightest, most supported place that I have experienced as an adult. I was able to see who I was and how I loved. But, the down side to that was I was able to see myself. Not a pretty picture sometimes. In fact, there were moments when the ugliness was too much to handle, and so I would stop. Stop functioning, stop feeling, stop responding, stop hearing, stop seeing, stop living. Sometimes that would happen for a day. But, more often than not, it would happen for what seemed like an eternity. The brightest moments and the darkest moments meshed together to make our Bloomington phase the most difficult years of our marriage.

It would be easy for me to blame others, or external circumstances for the the disruption in our married life. But, that wouldn't be fair. There were people who made me more aware of life and living than I had known up to that point. Sometimes it was through their suffering and the strength with which they lived that I understood a part of myself that I had not known. Seems unfortunate that my awareness and scope of reality increased in response to their pain. We had changed as individuals and as a couple. It was very uncomfortable realizing that we weren't the same people who had stood in front of friends and family a decade before. When did we change from that couple? Why did we change and how would we be able to change back? These were the questions that we had to answer. Before, we had always answered these sorts of questions together. But, this period required that we answer certain questions on our own.

We had to get to know ourselves, individually, so that we could share ourselves with each other. It took both of us taking serious looks at our own hearts, minds, motives, dreams and fears. This wasn't easy. It was, in fact, very painful. I have to thank the people who stood by us as we went through this process. A few in particular were pivotal in our lives during this period. I am most thankful to those who accepted me and encouraged me to journey forward in becoming who I am meant to be. It is no surprise that a few have had to take a break from the exhausting work of accepting me. There is no doubt in my mind that God gifted me special relationships to teach me about Him and who He made me to be. Some of the qualities I discovered were repulsive to Chris, or at least that was my perception. I know now that it wasn't. Chris was seeing himself for the first time, in some instances. He had to accept who he was is; the desires and disgusts of his own heart. Such a difficult process. We both were in a place of need that we couldn't fill for each other. It wasn't for lack of desire or love. We were just incapable, ill-equipped as I like to say.

In reality though, other people were used as the tools to help us see ourselves, and in response, to see each other. God was the source of strength and awareness that we both needed. I know that some of my behaviors are interpreted as unChristianly (not sure if that is a word). That will continue to be the case. My actions have hurt Chris in particular. It has been hard to realize that truth. We continue to struggle accepting and loving each other for who we are, instead of who we wish the other was. Clear as mud, yes?

You see, I know that Chris and I would not be here, in this new period, Abilene, if not for all the people and experiences that preceeded. The people who sat in that sanctuary 15 years ago were just where we needed them to be. As life has progressed, the people who have entered, exited, influenced, and challenged us to see each other, ourselves, and our God are just where we needed them to be. I am so thankful that you were a part of this story. There are so many private moments and experiences that have touched my life. It has taken each and every person, experience, and challenge to bring Chris and I to this place.

It is through God and His love and forgiveness Chris and I came to stand together, and have chosen to stand together through each period and place in our lives. He placed you in our life to support us and teach us. At this moment, our Abilene life is full of potential and adventure. We are lucky and blessed to be walking through this time together, with our beautiful children, and the family and friends that encourage us to be all that He created us to be.

Just a moment

It may all be catching up to me today. I want to cry and pout and yell and scream. The people I could usually rant to are nowhere to be found. I am left to battle in my head or frighten my husband and children with the tone that causes fear and trembling to anyone within ear shot of my voice. I am so sad to know this is a part of who I am. So many deep breaths, so many prayers lifted in an effort to soften these edges that are stubborn and ugly. The shame of knowing the intensity of my own dark nature overwhelms me in this moment. I want to disregard it and pretend that I am something more than what I am. Unfortunately, today, the reality is that I can't escape my own self and the destruction that I create.

There are so many things that I know are true. Jesus has forgiven me, and He loves me despite my humanity. There are so many people who have witnessed the extremes of my nature and found it in their hearts to forgive me. I am so grateful and totally undeserving. I wish I could live in the heart of who God created me to be, instead of the unworthiness of the darkness that I am. It is in moments like this that I can so clearly understand why unreconciled relationships remain a part of my life. This recognition is not a response to the self-loathing that I may be presenting at this moment. But rather, it is a clarity that reveals itself in my weakness. I can't expect anyone to willingly be a part of the reality of my brokenness.

There will be many who will want to comfort me and ease the pain that seems to threaten my contentment, trust and faith. Rest assured, I am not faltering in my faith in the One who does accept and love me, just as I am. We can all live in the light, or at least proclaim to live in the light; but, there will be moments of darkness. That is what this is. A moment. We would all like to avoid these moments. I know I would like to. In fact, I would like to deny that these moments ever enter my consciousness. But, dear friends, that is not the case. I do have dark moments filled with fear, anger and disbelief. I am acknowledging this moment because I need your help to lift me up. I don't need your affirmation or your praise. But, I do need your prayers. Prayers of encouragement and patience. Prayers for a softening of the edges of my heart, with its thorny hedges that prick and cut those who know it the best. I will claim the forgiveness that is so readily available, and I will apologize to those who bare witness to the ugly parts of my personality. When these moments come, the tears of sadness quench my soul's thirst for the living God. His acceptance and love will lighten the darkness and renew my strength.

Observations

So much going on, and so little focus for any discernible, substantive thoughts. If I may, I will offer up a few random observations over the past few weeks as we have journeyed from Illinois to Texas to find our destiny.

1. Some friends are too good to be true. It's hard to put into words the gratitude I have for so many friends who have stood beside us through this journey. Though we had to travel alone, just the 4 of us; we all knew there were many, both in Illinois and in Texas, and so many other states, who were right there with us along the way. They helped pack our bags, and they held my hand as I prepared my heart for new beginnings and long overdue farewells. Here in Texas, we have been welcomed and embraced by the Hardin-Simmons' staff and by many others. Our hearts have never felt abandoned or neglected. So grateful and appreciative.

2. It's hard to find a healthy meal on the road. I packed fruit, snacks, and waters, but thought I would find a meal that contained something other than fried food. At least in Oklahoma, that was not to be the case. Not a salad in sight without fried chicken plopped right in the middle of the spinach and lettuce that called my name. So what did I do? I went to Starbucks and indulged myself in a Vanilla Bean Frappacino. I know, I know. Not a wise choice.

3. My children are amazing. I know I give them a hard time, but I couldn't be prouder of them over this transition. Their courage, strength, and flexibility far surpassed mine. Minus the occasional lack of manners, (I will digress to share the lapse in manners that Miss Julia shared at dinner with our realtor. Vance, the realtor came by on Thursday with 3 pizzas from Pizza Hut to share with us before he had a meeting across town. I provided drinks, but he had the plates, napkins and the food. Julia got to giggling about something and passed gas, at the table, loudly. It was unavoidably loud. Colin began laughing hysterically. Chris and I, ashamedly, began laughing too. Poor Vance, probably 50 years old and father of 2 grown children, giggled politely then looked seriously uncomfortable and ready to let the gas pass without any further observance.), they have proved to be resilient and altogether wonderful.

4. Open wounds, caused by reaching one's hand under the sink without rubber gloves on while scrubbing the cabinets, does not heal when repeatedly dipped in bleach water. I am sure this is fairly obvious. I wasn't expecting the wounds to heal. I also knew that bleach could burn my skin even if there weren't open wounds on my finger tips. But, bleach REALLY hurts. But, given the magnitude of the task at hand, cleaning every surface in a 2100 square foot house, I persevered and lived through the excruciating pain. I won't complain or whine about it. Or, rather, I will stop complaining about it and move on.

5. Sometimes, there is no rational explanation for why things happen. I have tried to find an explanation for so many of the questions and challenges that have speckled the plateau of my past. Certainly, I will continue trying to explain things and seeking to understand why and when and how and where life is meant to be. Though I will throw a lot of effort into pondering and rationalizing, I am sure I will conclude the very same thing. Sometimes, there is no explanation. I can certainly say that about the events over the past couple of years that have lead us to this place and time. Little did I know what God had in mind for us. Begrudgingly at times, I must admit, I revolted and resented where the path was leading. I didn't understand, and still don't understand why the brokenness of life intruded so intensely and angrily into our family. Regardless, I trust that God's purpose will prove fruitful and good. Explanations and understanding would not change the pain of loss and misunderstanding that comes with loving and caring. So, accepting and trusting in the love that is greater than my own, I move forward. Claiming the mistakes, and forgiven for the sins of not knowing; I joyfully and boldly embrace the newness of this moment in my life.