A lesson in life.

Living in the NOW.

No, not the now network.

The right this minute, look at life, hello, here I am, type of now.

There is a verse in Jeremiah - I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans of good and not of evil, to give you a future and a hope.

I have quoted this verse over and over in my life.  Usually its a reminder when things are hard.  That God loves me, he has a plan, that things will get better.

But, when things are good, I mean, when they are awesome.  I forget to look and say - 'hey, thanks God, for keeping your word.'

I forget sometimes that my present is the good that God has promised.

There's a book, 1000 Gifts.  It's amazing.  You should read it.

But, I have to admit that I read it during a very difficult season in my life.  During a season where I couldn't find anything good.  I wanted to give thanks, I really, really did.  But, I'd try and then I'd just get mad.  I felt so frustrated, feeling as if I weren't learning anything, that I'd been dropped in the wilderness and left to die.  I felt fully and completely abandoned.

I wanted to say thank you, but I only felt bitter.  So I complained, and whined, and cried, and woe is me'd, until I am amazed that my husband didn't run screaming for the hills.  He probably should have.

Then, like only God can. . .  I began to hear myself.  I began to hear the groaning and despair.

I realized that, here I was, in my very own wilderness and I was making the Israelites look good.

I began to take to heart the idea of giving thanks in any and every circumstance.

I looked for the blessing and stared at it, until I couldn't see anything else.

And somewhere in the midst I began to settle.  I began to exist in the goodness of God and in the presence of God.  I learned about the now God and that he and the future God are the same.

The promises for tomorrow can be taken in hand today.  It is thankfulness for what we can't see.  It is Thank you, Thank you, Thank you - until the cry of our heart is an overwhelming, rejoicing shout of HOSANNA - THANK YOU, GOD!

                                                                                                         Photo by the amazing Lacy Fontaine

His goodness is revealed, to those that praise him for it, before they get to see it.

I have known this.  Long before books were written.  I had watched as thankfulness in my life opened doors that had previously been closed.

I learned it in the small things, but I failed - when it felt as if all of life had shattered.

When saying thank you, couldn't get past the bitterness.

How grateful I am to the King who promises and delivers.


Who holds his hand open with all of the goodness we need.  We are sustained, as in the midst, we praise.
                                                                                                       

                                                                                         

Living in the Sun, even through the clouds.

Most days in this little coastal hamlet, I find myself desperately searching for a glimpse of blue sky.  The fog hangs low and melancholy through the year.  Taking a welcomed break in the fall months, when stretches of blue and 60 degrees make one feel as though they've stepped into a drug induced state.

Today, however, as I walked through the throng at the farmers market.  The trendy mothers in their striped sweaters and BOB strollers, jostled by the tattooed men hampered only by their mane of dreds, each seeking the fresh organic goodness, served up by the local, sustainable farms.

My children run wildly on the grass, glee and youthful abandon enabling even the most rigid of souls to find joy in their antics.  This is especially good when locals have to hurdle their little rolling bodies.

I sit on the grass, the sun warming my back, my mouth filled with the weight of a gluten free strawberry scone.  Arise bakery, a local gluten free bread shop sells their wares in the center of the square and I must confess I come as much for the produce as I do for their little bits of guilt free heaven.  :)  Perhaps I shouldn't say guilt free as the rich butter flavor couples perfectly with the bits of dates and fresh strawberries.

It is these moments, these days, that the sun peeks out to say 'hello', that my children laugh with abandon, that I sit in the peace of the moment - that my heart fills with a great and unending THANK YOU.

So much in life demands our attention, strips us of our joy, and holds a mirror of never enough before our faces.  As much as we can remove ourselves from the barrage of negativity and step forth to rest our face in the beams of grace we can see clearly.

For it is in joy, in thank you, in mercy, and grace that truth is revealed.

Living with sugar. or without.

We all know that I love sugar.  I do, I do, I do.  

I wish my husband shared my addiction.  

I wish I could eat one cupcake.  (not all the cupcakes)

I wish vanilla cream and chocolate did not have a voice.

I wish that snickers were health food.

I wish that donuts grew on trees.  I would be sure to eat only the organic ones. 

I wish that sugar didn't override my 'off' switch.

I wish that sugar could be banned, not sold at stores, not sitting in my pantry, not wafting through the air at the fair.

If only my wishes could be reality.

Unfortunately, I am one of millions of people who live fully addicted to sugar and sweets.

About a year ago I wrote a post, confessions of a sugar addict.  I have to admit I've been shocked at the amount of views that one post gets.  Since so many of us seem to struggle with this, I thought I'd share more about what I am doing to free myself of this addiction.

Last year, I tried ridding my diet of all sugars/sweets.  I managed to do so for about 2-3 weeks, but then fell into a bowl of ice cream and just had to take a bite.

After being off of sugar, reintroducing it to my diet, at first, is met with complete rejection.  I usually can't eat much and it makes me feel pretty sick.  Then, slowly it begins to build -  the need for more.  Until I'm once more groaning on the floor, pulling one more powdered sugar coated eclair into my mouth, barely finding the strength to chew.  Not even tasting it's delicious sweetness.

Have you seen Something About Mary?  No?  Well, I won't recommend it, but there's a sub story about a guy who was off of coke and his friend gets him to take a drink of a beer, telling him of course this won't restart your addiction.  Which it does, because we are all just a moment away from being coke heads - duh!  (Don't do drugs - you will be addicted to heroin if you smoke pot!  yes, I believe this.  It's kept me drug free.)  

Anyway, back to the coke guy - who is also one of my favorite actors - he eventually gets eaten by his python.  

And that, folks, is what sugar will do to you.  It's just one bite between you and python crushing death.

I'd rather live! and be beautiful while doing it.  There is nothing more toxic for my complexion than sweets.  Even knowing this and just imagining what it must be doing on a cellular level, it's been incredibly difficult to keep away from them.

As of today I have been off of refined sugar for 5 days.  Yay for me!!  However, unlike last year I am not doing a complete ban of all sweets.  I will happily indulge in any treat made with honey, grade B maple syrup, molasses, sucanot, rhapadura, or agave.   (I am careful with agave and maple syrup, because both of these tend to cause me to overeat - just not quite to the caramel dripping off my chin - eyes glazed over - state.)

I think we need treats.  They're like medicine to a long day or a special splurge for a job well done.  However, choosing to eat only the best sweets helps hold them in higher regard and keeps us from those very embarrassing moments, such as when you're husband comes downstairs at 2am only to find you in the middle of the kitchen, pie tin in hand with the whole carton of ice cream in the middle.  Oh, that hasn't happened to you?  

Here's to my quest for a healthy body, beautiful skin, organic energy, and invitations to more events - now that everyone knows I won't be writhing ecstatically in the middle of the dessert table.  It's always a little awkward when that happens.

And. . . yesterday at our small group get together - I didn't eat a brownie or lick the pan or sneak one when no one was looking or come home and have a giant bowl of ice cream or take a bite of the whipped cream and chocolate on my husband's frappaccino.  Can you believe my level of self control?!  I am amazing.   If only I knew I were invincible.  But I know I'm really just a sip away from that python's stomach. 

Stepping into the sea of trust.

Trust.

It is something that can be given, abused, treasured, broken, retracted.

How often does someone hurt us or lie to us and we respond with, 'now my trust is broken!'  It leaves one lost and separated.  There is not an easy return from broken trust.  The simple reason being that we leave the responsibility of repairing our trust on the one who harmed it in the first place.

I forgive you.  I just don't trust you right now.

Is not forgiveness the full return of trust.  A giving away of grace?

Danny Silk from Bethel Church once said that 'trust is a choice'.

That is something that has stuck with me.  I process it.  I try to live it.  It's taken me quite a while to understand how to exist, choosing to trust.

My past is a constant blunder of pain.  There would be moments that things would seem to flow in a small sense of security, then my world would turn upside down.  When it righted itself, I would be left desperate to preserve my safety and my peace.  Trust was left trailing far behind my need to protect myself.

I was able to talk to an amazing friend, Charis Scofield, a few weeks ago and she said very simply, 'you need to trust that God has good for you'.

And like I do.  I  pondered and mulled on that one statement.  God, what is trust supposed to look like?  In my experience, the moment I let my guard down and trust, I am met with heart rending pain.  What does it mean to believe that you have good for me?  My experience doesn't line up with that.

I have hedged myself in, desperately trying to guard against the worst possible scenarios.  Allowing what could hurt me most- to play often through my thoughts, that I may be prepared for the times that pain will come.  Because it will, pain will strike.  It will blind, break and make us bleed.  It is a guarantee of life.

I stand guarded.  Clenched and ready.  I am always prepared for the blows to strike, the friends to leave, the lover to dismiss me, the sickness to come.  I'm waiting.

And because we cannot exist in this state.  I have been breaking.  My constant stance against pain, causing me to only be aware of the very worst things in life.  I cannot see joy when I am looking for suffering.  I cannot believe there is good, when I am only waiting for bad.

Attempting to control my world, desperately trying to protect myself - has left me broken.

They say that when someone falls from a high height, the only way to sustain the fall is to be completely relaxed.  When you clench and prepare for the hit, you break every bone.

I want to share the little I've learned about trust.  I am not an expert - just a sojourner seeking peace, hungry for truth.

Trust is.

A resting place.  In my mind it is lying in a cool stream.  Head back, the hand of God beneath your neck, fully supported.  Knowing that waves of pain may come, choosing to rest and breath through them.  You cannot float if you are tense.  You have to completely let go of fighting the water and as you do - your body lifts, weightless, to rest on top the sea of life.

When you live as though trust is a choice you take back your power.  Choosing to believe the best and the good.  If someone wrongs you or fails you, don't search for it.  Allow it to come in it's wave.  Then wash off of you.  Step back into trust.  It is a great tool in your hand.  It is not meant as a weapon.

Trust is a place of peace, safety, and security.  All of the things, that in my life, I thought had been broken, were only taken because I rebelled against trust.  I refused to rest through the pain and instead sought to protect myself against it - this only caused me MORE pain.  I created the very thing I sought so desperately to avoid.

When you clench and struggle, you drown.  Every time.  Sometimes it's better to be punched in the face so someone can save you, then to carry both of you under.

There have been moments that dark imaginings and doubts creep so quietly through my place of trust.  I start to feel myself tensing, falling into old habits.  Then I pull back my mental wanderings and I choose to remember that I am letting my fear go.  I am resting in the stream of life.  My place of control is what I believe, and I believe that the promises are good.

People may fail me, but I am not going to set them up to fall.  I am not going to look for their mistakes or their struggles, to hold in front of myself, to remind me not to trust.

Rather, I live hand and heart open.

If joy is to come then I will dance and sing and live in the moment without fear of the shadows growing on the horizon of my mind.

If it is pain then I will let it wash over me, I will scream and cry, then let it go - let it run it's course and continue, even through the process, of resting in trust and peace.

I am amazed at the freedom I have found here.  As what once controlled me, no longer holds dominion over my thoughts.

Each day is a sweet treasure of peace.  The promises are - yes and amen.

Even in this.

I have an amazing husband.  

I know this.  

I don't always appreciate how blessed I am.

Then this week, as I have writhed in pain from a calcified rupture pressing on my sciatic nerve, I have been astounded by the man that I have married.

When this happens, which it does every few years, and will continue, until I am ready to undergo surgery - I turn from a happy, healthy woman, to one screaming in pain.  As I lie, writhing on the couch through the night, I imagine the relief I could get from slamming my head into the tile floor.  Anything to relieve the desperate, shooting sparks flying up and down my leg, the charlie horse of hell- constant throbbing in my back. 

Unfortunately there is not a position that doesn't bring pain.  My bed brings more.  I alternate between the couch, the floor and popping pills that don't come close to kissing the edge of pain.

I am so thankful to not be pregnant or nursing, this time.  I have previously not had the luxury of chemicals to relieve the agony.  The fact that they aren't working has been discouraging, but it feels good to try.  The bottle of wine I drank, dulled the sense of the pain, but not the pain itself.  The vomiting left me feeling as though death were lurking in the night as I tossed myself into the oblivion of hell.  

Through this.  My husband, the man who didn't know all he was getting himself into, has gently taken care of me.

He has woken to tend to the children, taking them to the park, to the store, giving me space to writhe.

He has stood through my fears, my insecurities, as I question and blame.  Lost in my pain I see only myself.

He has left work to take me to chiropractic appointments, massage therapy, woken at 3AM to massage the knots that form.  

And I am humbled at his love.

I am amazed at his gentleness.  

I am wooed by care.

We don't expect the bad things in life. 

When they come, as they come, and character and truth are put to test - I find myself a little shaken by the depth of promise made.  The valor of the man who stands to care.  Who puts his family first.  Who gently loves and firmly lives.

I know.  I believe.  That there is an end to this.  

I have shaken the strength of his patience, screamed as I pushed away, gasped at the hands that supported, and bowed at the love that remains.

To say that I am blessed misses the depths.

I am loved.  

And in return, I love.

Through sickness we remain, faithful.  

In health we rejoice.  Free to run in this life - with joy.

To the man that I married, I am thankful - the day you said forever, the promises you keep.  This life, together, we live.

 

Beauty is not a fantasy.

YOU are BEAUTIFUL.

The words slip past.  Quiet on the breeze.  They are for another, and needless I push them away.  YOU are beautiful.  Ignored, they fade, silent in the whisper.  You are BEAUTIFUL!  I pay no head.  And like a shooting star, their sparks fall to nothing.

Then a hand cups under my chin.  "Can you hear me?  Will you listen?  You ARE beautiful!  Nothing I have created is without value or purpose, everything I have created is beautiful.  Will you see it?"  

Shamed I hide my face.  Ridiculous and foolish every unattractive person I have ever noticed, flashed through my mind.  I think, point proved. 

"EVERYTHING I have created is beautiful.  Who are you to judge it's worth."

Scolded I want to retreat, but I am held in the hand of my King.  There is nowhere to run, my soul is simply bare.  My wickedness is all I see.  I can feel every bit of me cringe against his compelling grip.  I am not worth this, don't deserve it.  I want to shout that I am UGLY!  I am without VALUE!  I am WORTHLESS!

But it echoes through me, EVERYTHING I have created is beautiful, has value, has purpose.   

Then I know it is a lie that I have believed.  It has twisted in me.  It has grown it's roots around my beliefs, my thoughts, my dreams.  It has blinded and demented me.  It has placed itself into my water source and it has been drinking in deep, greedy gulps, the sweet spring that was made for me.  It has left poison, for me to suck through the cracks in myself.  Death has encompassed me.  Spinning it's evil into every thought, pass by the mirror, pursuit of a goal, it has held me captive.  I have allowed it to grow.  I have pampered it, nourished it, and sacrificed for it, thinking it was a part of me, that it WAS me.  

As he holds me and his gaze grips, I feel my eyes begin to open, begin to see.  

I am Beautiful.

I have purpose.

I have destiny.

I have value.

"I will praise You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made; Marvelous are Your works, and that my soul knows very well.

My frame was not hidden from You, when I was made in secret, and skillfully wrought in the lowest parts of the earth.  

Your eyes saw my substance, being yet unformed.  And in Your book they all were written, the days fashioned for me, when as yet there were none of them."  Psalm 139:14-16

No matter the opening that I allowed, the realization that I have believed such a debilitating lie staggers me.  When you can see clearly, you become responsible for the truth.  

And with a victory CRY I take my AX to it's roots, until I have pulled forth every sulfurous pit, that the sweet springs of life might once more flow through me.  

I am drunk in his love, in his intimacy, as the crevices of my thoughts and beliefs are filled with the water of truth.

I stand, no longer running, shamed, or afraid.  Simply open.  Looking clearly through the beauty that he has made.  All darkness, stains, wickedness wash away, leaving His flawless creation.  Made by the hands of my master, my KING.  

"I am my beloveds and he is mine!" 

Song of Solomon 2:16

His eyes twinkle and his hand slips around me as he pulls me into his embrace.  "My daughter, my love! Happy the day I formed you!  Joyous as I saw whom you would be!  You are my delight, my great pleasure."  

His presence fills me and I marvel at his great love and mercy.  That my Lord would lead me through each moment of darkness of pain, to reveal that his creation is great.  It is beautiful.  That I am his.

I am BEAUTIFUL.  And the shout resounds that all my see and know.  

EVERYTHING He has created is BEAUTIFUL.  Has PURPOSE.  Holds VALUE.

ReFinished.

Well, I did it.  I finished it.

I started what I expected to be a simple project of refinishing my dining room table and six chairs.  Only to find myself in the midst of tears, soul searching, ridiculous frustration, and life altering chaos.  You could say that therapy for me, is a paintbrush in hand.

Previously I didn't consider myself to be a perfectionist, until ever glob of paint that refused to stick had me cursing in frustration.  After 18 hours, my online scouring convinced me that I was using the wrong primer and should sand off the two coats already applied and go with an oil base.  In hindsight, I would have been fine with the latex.  More cursing as I realized this now 25 hours in.  I think they may laugh at me at the paint store.

I was told countless times that I should just throw the whole thing away.  There were points in this that I wanted to consider that an option.  Maybe just setting the whole thing on fire.  hmm.

Apparently I do not handle things well when they don't go my way.

I did not toss it, burn it, or destroy it.  I sanded, wiped, primed, painted, distressed, sealed, stapled, cut, padded, finished.

I'd say I'm about 100 hours in.  For those of you who do this, I'm sure I did a million things wrong.  However, I learned a lot as well.  I'm happy to say that I persevered and it felt good.

It took me a year to complete this project.  I may be a little insane, but I'm getting ready to start my next little task.

I love working on furniture.  I love refinishing.  I love watching something horrible become beautiful.  I think I may have caught a bug.

More than that I love proving to myself that I can finish what I begin.  That I am faithful.

Who knew there was so much to learn from wood and paint.  :)

Technically there are still two chairs left to finish, but the pads are on, I'm just waiting for more oilcloth.  There was a moment that I was going to cover the chairs in burlap, but after a day watching my kids exist, we switched to the easily cleaned oil cloth.

Happiness is, not using a table cloth every day.