Wednesday, June 26, 2013

When your head knows He's there but your heart needs to be reminded

She said, "God's here."

I knew it.  In my head I knew He was here.  I knew He was with us, but my heart, my emotions, weren't playing along.

He told us, "Never would He leave us or forsake us."  (I guess He can say never and mean never.)

In the moment of fear, in the moment of wondering, is this it? is this the end?, head and heart are sometimes on two opposite corners of the world.

I've told people that very thing, "God's here", hundreds of times.  I believe He's here.  I believe He was there.  I believe He never leaves me nor forsakes me.  But there's something about the moments when your belief is not at the forefront and you're just going through the moment you're in, when you just have to trust in someone else's belief that He's here.  He's with you.  He's got this.  He's got your back.

My head knows the truth, my head rests in the truth, my heart thinks I will be able to live strong in the truth in the moments of fear.


Until fear comes.  Until you're afraid.

Then, then your heart  has to play catch up to the knowledge your head has.

Then your head has to give your heart time to catch up, time to remember the truth you know, time to heal.

Sometimes the knowledge that God's here is the only thing there is to hold onto, even when you can't feel it in you're heart, or see it with your eyes, your head has to be the one to remind you that, yes, He's here.  He's got this.

He's got my head and He's got my heart.

He's here.

Saturday, June 22, 2013

TJOLC, or, when change comes, hold on tight

I had a beloved Bible teacher while living here that started many of her lessons saying, "before I can teach a lesson, God has to teach it to me."

When I wrote a few months ago, the story about my Grandmother's car accident and recovery, I was looking back at events that happened, not realizing at the time I was writing about them, I was actually being reminded He was up to something in the present that would involve some of the very lessons I learned from my family's past.

Where to begin this story?

I could tell you about Our plan to stay in our house of 15 years for another year and then, in Our time, move to our new home in our home state.

 I could tell you of our daughter's and son-in-law's plan to move to Texas just a few short months ago.

I could tell you of the day I grumbled at my husband, the planner he is, when he was making plans to have a realtor come to our house and get an idea of what needed to be done to put it up for sale, and I told him I DID NOT want to do any of that UNTIL AFTER our family trip of a lifetime vacation we had been planning for three and half years was over June 16th.

I could tell you all the things that WE were planning for a nice, smooth transition to our next stage of life.

But, I can only tell you what happened when we were making our plans.

Put your seatbelt on, it's an action packed story that came together in just a matter of a few weeks, not months, not even a year.


Remember when I whined to my husband that I "did not want to do anything about the house until after we returned from our trip.  Then I will think about it."  God surely had to be chuckling.

Daughter and son-in-law making plans to move to Texas, house up for sale, house has a steady showing the first week and a half it's listed.  One family looks at it three times, they are very interested.

In the meantime, our things are being sorted, thrown out, and getting ready for a garage sale to be had over Memorial Day weekend.

In the meantime, son-in-law gets an offer he can't turn down, in the area.  Move to Texas:  off.

In the meantime, interested family makes an offer on their house, D and SIL counteroffer, counter accepted. By the way, closing will be two days after our return from our family vacation, less than a month away.

In the meantime, D and SIL decide to buy our house and oh, by the way, we need to be moved out before our family trip because there will be no time after we get back to be moved out and moved in.

In the meantime, we have a huge garage sale, nothing that went out came back in the house.  Hubs and I move upstairs, rent a pod for most of our furniture, D and SIL move in, garage full, rented pod in driveway full, boxes everywhere, furniture everywhere...chaos is just the beginning.

Can you hear God chuckling alittle?  I can.

(I really need to learn never to say "never.")

So here we are today.  As I write this my husband is taking apart a desk (one of those that came in multiple pieces that we bought because we were NEVER moving again, we don't need to worry about trying to move it).

Our D and SIL are downstairs painting, patching making our home theirs, amongst boxes, three dogs, and just a general sense of what in the world happened here?

Change has come.  It has grabbed me by the shoulders and slapped me in the face.  I'm still facing the same direction, but I'm definitely moving at a much faster pace and in a different time frame than I had planned.

It's harder than I thought it would be.  It's happier than I thought it would be.  Our daughter and SIL have a touch they have already brought in our home. One that soothes, mellows, and brings (bittersweet) joy.

I didn't want to leave my house of 15 years empty.  I dreaded the day we would leave an empty house, voices and memories echoing in its rooms, and closing the door for the last time.  God is giving me a gift doing things His way, not MY way.  He is letting me let go, little by little (even though in moments it feels like a band-aid is being ripped off).

His plan is the better plan.  His plan is Good.  He is Good.  He has Good in store for us.

I'm sad, but I'm excited.  I'm sad, but I'm thankful.  I'm sad but rejoicing.  And....I'm laughing with Him.  I thought we had a good plan. Silly me, I forgot that His plan is always better than whatever I could come up with.

Just a few pics from our family trip of a lifetime.

His way is always better.


Wednesday, June 5, 2013

Packing it all up

I've been doing a lot of packing lately - packing and unpacking, sorting and throwing, donating and selling.  Packing to move, packing for vacation, packing, packing, packing.

So the Pioneers have been on my mind a lot these last few weeks.  When I was in elementary school I remember studying the Pioneers, remember those people?  The ones who left their homes and families and headed west for better opportunity?

One of the projects we did was to pack the covered wagons for the journey.  We had a list of items a family had before they left and it was our assignment to figure out what HAD to be left behind and what HAD to go.  The pioneers didn't face questions like I've asked myself:   will I use this in my new house?  They asked questions like:  do we have room?  How much does it weigh?  How are we going to get it over mountains and streams?

I can just throw things in a box, seal it with tape and when the movers load the truck, I don't have to worry about it making it up big hills or being thrown over an embankment because it's too heavy and the horses can't pull it.

I've gotten rid of a lot of stuff these last few weeks, but there's a lot more that, when I get to my new house and start finding places for all the stuff, I'm sure I will go through the sorting, throwing, donating routine all over again.

We pack heavy loads, we carry heavy loads, and we're always trying to find a place to put the burdens (I mean the stuff) we carry around in our houses, in our purses, in our our hearts.

While I'm on earth I'll deal with stuff, physical and spiritual, mental and emotional.  Some things will find a place perfectly fit.  Others will get moved around from room to room, from emotion to emotion, until there isn't a spot for it or it's just taking up too much room, crowding out the good which makes the house look warm and inviting.

Jesus keeps helping me pack my covered wagon  by telling me, "that's a little heavy, you don't need to carry that.  I've got it for you."  He's always doing a cleaning out of my heart, taking the fears and the worries and the anxieties and the guilt and the shame and the pain and getting rid of it so I don't have to be burdened with them anymore.  I just have to let go.

Yeah, we're still taking a LOT of stuff to our new house.  We'll live in boxes and chaos awhile, but when it's all sorted out, when everything has found its place, it will be our home.

While I'm here on earth the house of my heart will constantly be sorted and cleaned and laid at the foot of the cross, but when I'm gone, when my last breath is breathed, I will be free from the clutter, from the burdens, from the hanging on of what's so hard to let go.

I'll be free.