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.

Sweet moment

Sweetest moment of my day...
Sweet little R., a new member to our class was crying at the start of nap time. She has done such a great job of meshing with the class. Just jumped right in and became a part of the group. She entertains the teachers with her very adult-like interactions, but doesn't seem to struggle to interact with the other children. But, nap time had her sad, missing her mommy. She was so precious, laying in her sleeping bag, with the covers pulled up right to her chin. When I saw her tears, I sat down on the floor next to her. I asked her if I could sit with her for awhile.

She nodded her little head, with tears streaming down her face. I reassured her that her mommy would be back. Then I wiped the tears from her eyes, and brushed the hair off her forehead. I whispered to her, "I think you are so brave.". I was struck in that moment how quickly we go from honoring the bravery of a young child who is strong enough to separate from her mommy for a few hours each day, to thinking that such sentimentality is a weakness. As years go on, we interpret this sadness from separation a flaw, or a deficit.

I understand why this is the case. At 38, if I were crying every time I left my family members, I would have puffy, swollen eyes, 24/7. I would be crying all the time. I don't always get to have the people who make me feel safe and secure by my side. The sheer fact that we don't live near family eliminates the possibility. Then there are those who have made the choice for me, to not be a part of my life, or the life of my family. The weight of those losses is heavy and brings on its own flood of tears. But, I think about that beautiful baby girl, crying as my hand moved the wisps of hair from her eyes, and I realized that God was using her to touch my heart. This tender moment made me remember what it's like to need and to be needed.

I loved telling her how brave and strong she was. It was a peaceful exchange consisting of sadness and great connection. How hard it is to suffer in silence, as this little one was trying to do. When God gives me moments to see the pain of those around me, I am so thankful. Because, He reminds me in these moments how we all try to hide our tears by pulling the covers over our eyes. Secretly, hoping and praying someone will notice and tend to the brokenness we can't even articulate with words. Today, I had my heart tended to by seeing the strength of R. She reminded me of the power and energy it takes to make it through a terrain of unknowns, which is life.

Morning Lullabies

Isn't it great to hold a sleeping baby? Or better yet, to hold a baby, and sing that little one to sleep? There is that precious moment right before their eyes shut for a lingering rest where peace and connection are epitomized. OK, some of you may not know that feeling, so you will have to imagine.

Imagine that sweet moment when you put a spoonful of your favorite ice cream into your mouth. You feel the chill, then the flavor hits your taste buds, and wow, it is...delicious. Maybe you aren't a sweet treat freak like me. Maybe it's that perfect cut of meat, that is cooked just how you like it. You cut into and you knife just sinks in with no effort. Once in your mouth, it melts. You savor the flavor and want to absorb each bite. Well, singing a baby to sleep is even more amazing than your favorite bite of food melting in your mouth.

Today, I was able to sing to an infant as I rocked him to sleep. I have to admit, it turned my attitude around. I couldn't maintain the bitterness that was eating at my heart. The sadness, hurt, and pain that I was carrying about my sister, and my friend, dissipated as I looked into his eyes. I was breathing in his sweet scent of innocence and purity. How could I carry the heaviness of the burdens this world forces upon me? I simply couldn't. I had to smile and drink in the moment. So glad I was given the opportunity to experience the moment. The challenge is to remember the innocence in each person with whom I interact. Once, we were all infants, with the same potential as the little babe I held today.

So glad I have songs to sing. I remember singing to my own children, and love that they now sing along with me. I sing with my preschoolers and I love when they absorb the joy of music and share it with their parents long after they have been with me. In addition to enjoying to sing, I appreciate those who share their heart through song. Whether it's my husband who is offering a recital (which unfortunately has been canceled due to illness...or climate adjustment deficits), a student performing a role exceptionally, or a choir synchronizing their voices and mind to share meaning through sounds which will touch a heart; sharing the common language of music through song is a gift.

One of my favorite songs is Ingrid Michaelson's Morning Lullabies from the album, Boys and Girls. I sing it in my head a lot, and I listen to it when I want to remember...

The sun had painted
Patterns on your face
As you breathed Sunday air
You rolled onto
My open arm
I became your pillow; you let me smooth your hair

I will sing you morning lullabies
You are beautiful and peaceful this way
I know you have to close your eyes on everyone
Let me help you, I'll sing you to sleep
With morning lullabies

We all have to close our eyes. Sometimes we have to close our eyes to stay alive in this world instead of drifting off to other places, times, and lives. I am thankful to those of you who sing me to sleep. And, I am thankful to those of you who let me sing you to sleep.

And this is love...

And this is love, not that I have first loved You. And this is love, that You have first loved me. You gave up your life, a perfect sacrifice. And this is love...

These lyrics keep running through my mind. I have been grappling with this miraculous kind of love in contrast to the love I have to offer. I pray that one day I will love in the way Christ has modeled, but so frequently lately I fall short. I have this expectation that love looks a certain way. It is acceptance and understanding. It is forgiveness and accommodation. It is free and ever changing with the seasons.

Maybe you know the feeling of moving forward in your thinking and understanding, but believing that others only see you for your past rationales and perceptions. When once you would have shunned or disapproved, judged and condemned, now you accept and honor because you have realized your own frailty and fallibility. But, when others are not moving with you, they can't see where you are or where you are going. So, they are left only realizing what you once were and how you once thought. No matter how much people believe they can stay detached and just call on you when their need or desire arises, they can't possibly know where your heart is if they stay disconnected.

My heart is grieving this evening as I recognize the reality of this truth. My sister hasn't spoken to me for about 6 weeks. I don't know where her heart is, and she doesn't know, nor does she seem to want to know where my heart is. As hard as I try to stay loving and open, I fall into a place of bitterness. How could she not want to be apart of my life? After everything our family has been through, losing our dad about nine months ago, how can she intentionally decide to disconnect. She is angry, she feels like my priorities are wrong, she is hurt. Though I can't understand the specifics that brought her to the place of disconnecting, I do understand the broader emotions that drove her to the decision. I know anger, hurt, and misunderstanding. I think I have responded negatively to others with the same base emotions driving my choices.

I want to own the parts of the pain I caused. I know I am not perfect. I could make excuses and they might justify my actions. OR, I could say nothing and that may suggest a certain guilt. My heart grieves too for not getting to be a part of my sister's life. Today was her daughter's birthday. I called their home and got to leave a message. But, I didn't get to hear about her party or what she did at school. There is a distance that I can't swallow right now. Being shut out makes me question who I am. Am I so intolerable that my own sister can't stand contact with me? Am I so reprehensible that it is safer for her to disconnect entirely? How very sad it is to realize my family is missing out on relationships that could be very fruitful.

The arguments could be made this is my choice. We moved to Texas, we chose to spend vacation time with friends and family. We don't write, call, or visit enough. It's all true. As much as I would like to move forward and pretend it doesn't matter, it does. It matters I don't get to have a sister. She is here, alive, real, my family. She is choosing to not have the benefits of our relationship and she is stealing the benefits from me. Some sisters have to say goodbye far too soon, and it is permanent, at least until Jesus reconciles us all to Him. I have seen this reality, and it is so painful.

My sister isn't the first to disconnect from me. It hurts to know the love I have for others is so easily disregarded. This evening I can rationalize all the truths about why, but my heart is aching and the tears are stinging. I feel like I am whining and complaining without offering the great benefits these relationships have played in my life. Again, I can rationalize those things, but I have this bitter view tonight that seems to be coloring my understanding.

And this is love...That is what I have to remember. The gift of love is not what is given in response to an offering. Love is given as the gift. It is given when nobody accepts or wants it. Love is given because we love the person, not for what they've done or can do, but because they are a child of God, and we are called to love in this Christlike way. I am not there. I want to be. I pray to be. But, I still find it easier to love those who respond and accept the love I am offering, even though it is substandard and inadequate. I am sad. I miss my sister. I miss my friend. I want to know her heart, but I can't make her want to offer this. I can't beg, plead, or explain enough to make her want to know me. And sadly, as each day passes, our hearts grow that much further apart. How long will it take before the desire fades entirely? Maybe that has already happened. I grieve this possibility. I also feel very selfish wishing for it to change.

If I trust God, then I have to believe that what is right now will be used to bring His will to fruition. So, not having connection must be serving somebody, even though it doesn't seem to be serving me. I am selfish for wanting this. Clearly I am torn about how to handle this difficult situation. It is not for me to resolve. Ugh, not having control is so...frustrating...challenging...exhausting...painful. In this moment, I will trust God. He is in this with me. He is with those I love, and those who have meant so much to my heart. Thankfully, God knows the sadness in my heart because He feels it daily for all his loved ones who turn away from Him. It's not the same, by any stretch of the imagination. God is perfect, and well, I am...NOT! I know my loved ones have good reasons for turning from me. It just makes me sad. Enough pouting. I must go pluck my eyebrows.

Miners

Watching the 60 Minutes special on the miners who were rescued in Chile. It's amazing the strength and perseverance these men possess. They survived 69 days. Incredible. What is really profound is how these many months later they are still surrounded by the walls of that mine. Men are struggling with depression and nightmares of darkness even as they live. Some would rather be dead than struggling with the reality of life. They are struggling to relate with the life that is, when they were so close to letting go of that life.

I have recently shared with a few close friends that I am ready when the time comes, to go see Jesus. Though I don't want to let go of this life in this very minute, I know when God is ready for me, I will be right where I want to be; in His arms. I imagine many of the Chilean men came to this same place, just to have it ripped away at the moment of acceptance. Now they are left, with a world that is much darker than the mine they survived. Very bleak, is it not?

Many who have never been trapped in the dire circumstances of these strong men struggle in the same darkness. Maybe it wasn't 69 days. Maybe it was 69 seconds, or 69 minutes of hell on earth. Maybe it was 6.9 seconds of realizing a humanity that threatens to steal the joy God promises. Whatever the time frame, the reality of darkness steals from each of us the precious vision that our God strives for our hearts to obtain. He never wanted us to fear, to hate, to struggle with this world. But, here we are.

The hope is, here He is. He is here in our darkness and pain. He struggled with the miners, and He persists with them through the ongoing struggle they now face as light brightens their day, but the night looms heavier than the darkness in the mines. He is here in our darkness. While we face the loss, the sadness, the distractions, the fear and the hate, He is here. I admit, His presence often feels far from the dark moments I encounter in my waking hours. I see the pain of those who are losing battles of addiction, cancer, sickness, and death; and I wonder, where are you Jesus?

Then I remember the smile of my friend who shared her song of suffering and of hope after telling me about being lost and forsaken in this world of danger and abuse. She reminded me of Jesus' unending presence in the darkness. Though this is just a recollection, and I am no longer allowed to witness the Jesus that speaks through her witness, I have the precious memory of our God who lived in that moment with us. I am privileged to see the Jesus that speaks through my dear friend who struggles with the reality of addiction which threatens to steal her family and the precious child she raised. He speaks daily in her life, and thankfully, I see Him in her witness. As I pray for healing and peace in the hearts of those I love, I also acknowledge that my Jesus is speaking through their witness, even in the darkness.

I am reminded this evening of the power of Jesus. For those miners, who lived through the unspeakable, I pray for peace and healing of their souls. I will not blame our Lord for the pain they are struggling to overcome, but I will ask Him to be the healer that promises to bring them light and life, despite their circumstances. I will not be so bold to remind them of the power of His mighty name, because I believe they are far stronger witnesses to His presence. But, I will gladly raise my voice in praise and thanksgiving for the lives He reconciles in the darkness, and the light he offers to those who believe.

OK

It's been quite some time since my last blog. I have tried several times, but I haven't been able to complete a thought that was worth sharing. Not sure this effort will prove more productive, but, here it goes.

You know how people ask, "How are you doing?" And, you (and I) respond, "I'm doing well." or, "Doing OK.". Do you ever really think in your head, "Actually, I am not doing well today." or, "I am on the verge of having a nervous breakdown. Thanks for asking." I frequently respond with the answer that I think most people want to hear. "I am doing well.", "Every thing's great.", "Doing OK." Either there isn't enough time to really explain where I am mentally, or, I don't really think the truth is what is warranted in the moment.

I recently confronted my own thinking on the subject. The "higher" truth, or the more accurate "global" truth is that I really am OK. Even when my brain feels like it is splitting open, and I am more exhausted than I can understand; I am OK. Part of the reason that I haven't been blogging is because I have had my mind on a few things that are burdening my heart. Unfortunately, there isn't a solution, remedy, or antidote to offer to ease the heaviness. So, when I sit down to write, I think through all the ways that I have fallen short. As eager as I am to write the positives that come out of burdens and heart ache; I linger on the negatives that arise from broken relationships and unresolved conflicts.

My heart hurts knowing that I can't say, do, write, or explain enough to bring resolution to the brokenness in the relationships that feel so distant and withdrawn. Even as I rationalize that all will be reconciled, in His time, I struggle to accept that I am meant to disconnect and accept. Knowing that time is fleeting and life is too short; I feel this yearning to connect and resolve the conflicts with people that I love and miss. Loss is inevitable. I am accepting that truth. My dad is gone, and the pain of his absence is fresh and deep. I guess that is why it is hard for me to accept the conscious choice of friends and family members who disconnect and detach.

The choice to withdraw and cut ties has never been easy for me. I call it separation anxiety. I don't willingly say good-bye or let go. It hurts. But, I am realizing others find this a very acceptable tool for dealing with life and all the ups and downs it presents. In some ways I envy this ability to let go, and to choose it rather than waiting for the inevitable to happen. It's not fun being on the other end of a relationship where a person refuses to respond or communicate. I know it is easier for them to let go rather than deal with who I am, flaws and all. To be honest, there are times when I want to run and deny any connection with myself too.

Thankfully, it is OK. Recently, I went to Seattle, Washington to visit good friends. It was such a relaxing, comfortable, and refreshing experience. Though getting there was not easy, I had this moment right before I landed in Seattle that made me realize how everything could be OK. After getting through the clouds that hovered over Texas, dropping inches of snow in a state barely capable of handling a dusting, we were sailing through blue skies that could best be described as...captivating. As we began approaching our descent, before the clouds attempted to swallow the plane whole, the mountain peaks came into full view. It was the most amazing sight. Above the clouds billowing at the break of the skyline, these mountains escalated and stood proudly. Their white caps jutting forth, unwilling to be shadowed by the clouds.

Soon we were descending through the clouds and settling onto the runway at Seattle's airport. The clouds were thick and hazing the view of the mountains. My dear friends, Joy and Tom were the best tour guides. They were so eager for me to see those mountains, but they knew unless the sun came out, there was no chance. At one point I exclaimed that I could see them. They informed me those were just the foothills of the mountains. They were still loftier than anything that I could imagine having as a landscape in my every day life. Only as I look back at the pictures taken on the plane, and the ones taken of the landscape of the area surrounding their new home did it occur to me how similar life is to those views. I want so badly to see the fullness of the mountains in my daily life. I want to see beyond the clouds to the frosty white mountaintops.

But, just as I am not meant to see the mountains, in all their glory; I am not meant to have the fullness of relationships that only God can offer at the time when I am reconciled with Him. It was OK that I didn't get to see the mountains while I was on the ground in Washington. I knew they were there. I also knew that I was seeing the beauty of so many other wonders; the ocean waters, the huge trees, the rolling earth, and the clouds in the night sky shining brightly as they traveled across its terrain. Many relationships bless me daily. Though at times I am unlovable, selfish, and more than a little difficult, I have friends and family who love me and are willing to walk this world with me. I will not give up on hoping for reconciliation, connection, and clarity in the relationships that today are distant and unresponsive. I won't get to choose the time, place, or circumstance when the fullness of friendship moves through the clouds of darkness that hinder connection. But, until then, it's OK. It's OK to enjoy the beauty of what I do see and the connections with those who are choosing me. It's OK to appreciate seeing the glimpse of the mountain, and it's OK to appreciate the time I am given with those I love.

It is OK.