It Was There All the Time

For a couple of years now, I have been wrestling with God. My struggles are not unique, many others pose the same questions. My questions come out of a painful end to my marriage and those events effects on my children. But others will ask the same ones:

• Why did God allow this awful event to happen?
  
• If God really loved us, wouldn't he have protected us from this pain?
• I was trying to serve God, yet He didn't keep his promise to protect us. Why should I continue to follow Him?

The temptation to abandon my faith was very strong. I cried out to God to help me understand and I turned my back on him like a child who didn't get her way. And I threw tantrums and said angry words to him. Why Lord? I thought you promised me the desires of my heart if I followed you. You promised to love me and never abandon me but that is exactly what it felt like happened.

In my wrestling, I found no easy answers. God didn't hand me a neatly wrapped package explaining why this all happened. Oh, I have some answers. Selfishness, sin and such by me and others all can be factored in. But the question remained. . . if God really is all loving and all powerful, He could have stopped it. Afterall, in my case, not only was my family affected but also innumerable other people as it tore about another family and our church family too. In my mind, it was only fair to question why God didn't choose to step in at least to lessen the collateral damage.

After three years, I have given up trying to make sense of it. But there is an unmistakable pattern I can now see. Perhaps I can say that God's favor hasn't been present throughout this time. However, I can say without a doubt that none of us has lived outside of God's love. In the past few days I have rediscovered some amazing verses about God's love. A love that Paul talks about as being beyond understanding, a love that surrounds us and will never let go of us. A love that when rooted deeply in our lives will give us power and abundant life. (Romans 8:35-39; Ephesians 3 &4)

I have come to see that circumstances do not demonstrate God's love for us. We are not loved more or less by the good or bad things that happen in our lives. God's love is so amazing that it is not tied to anything I do or anything that happens to me. He loves us. That is it. That is everything. He loves us.

• In the storm, He loves us
• In the darkness of divorce and betrayal, He loves us
• In failure, in pain, in illness, in death, He loves us
• In our selfishness and sin, He loves us

This isn't easy to wrap my little ol' head around. But in the briefest moments, I do and then, I can find hope that the pain will not last forever. Hope that even though I have been abandoned by some, God never did and never will abandon me. Hope that this love requires nothing from me, it is unchanging whether I cling to it or push it away.

He loves me.

Enough said.

Waiting for the Blooms

Peonies have long been my favorite flower. In the world of flowers, they are all petals and no fluff. There is something about them that remind me of abundance and fullness of life. When we bought the house 10 years ago, I had dreams of planting several bushes along the side of the house. After all, even though it was fall and the bush wasn't blooming, the previous owner spoke of a peony bush already in that spot.

As is often the case, I slept too many times between October and April, and I forgot about the peony bush. And before my memory could be jogged, Nathan had mowed the side yard flower beds and all. In the subsequent springs, I would wonder what that plant that kept coming up in the my flower bed was. I had since filled the bed with daylilies and pulled the odd plant out each year. Obviously, my gardening prowess is extremely limited and the poor peony was its casualty.

Three years ago, my marriage was failing and my family's life would change forever. Like a giant lawn mowing taking down everything in its path, every part of my life was changed. I was no longer a wife, no longer a pastor's wife and I was now a single parent. In the wake of the final traumatic event, my life felt like a shorn path without any blooms. It definitely had become something I hadn't planned or dreamed about. And many days, I would wonder if it would ever be anything more than an ash heap of what was or what might have been.

Quite unexpectedly during that spring, the memory of the previous owner telling me there was a peony bush on the side of the house came back to me. And I remember watching the plants come up in the spring and inspecting them. Looking at peony bushes in my friends house and comparing the leaves. Sure enough, there it was a peony bush on the side of my yard. I was ecstatic. I couldn't wait for the big blooms to come out, instead of pulling the plant up, I babied it.

But no blooms came. The leaves were green and healthy looking but nothing even close to a bud developed. I was very disappointed. My friend Joanne assured me that peonies can be a bit persnickety when it comes to be treated poorly. She told me it was not uncommon for them not to bloom for several years after being replanted. And who could blame this poor plant who had been mowed and pulled and ignored for many years already. So began my hoping and waiting for the blooms to come again.

Another two springs passed with no blooms. Early every spring I would go out and look for buds. Last year, there were finally buds. Small and tightly wrapped, the buds never loosened to reveal the abundant petals inside. For many weeks I would go out and look to see if there were any signs of loosening and blooming. But it was another spring of disappointment. This year I was cautiously optimistic that finally the blooms would come.

Once again, among the leaves were buds but this time they did not stay tightly shut. This time I could watch daily and see the petals begin to break out of the buds. My peony is pink - I never knew what color it was until two days ago when an overabundance of beautiful pink petals burst out from the leaves. (see pic below) After three years, something beautiful had finally come out of what once had been pile of rubble. After three years, of waiting, I could enjoy the abundant growth.

When I first realized that my marriage was over, I felt like nothing would ever be ok again. I was damaged goods and the pain was so great, I never imagined life without it. Someone had told me that it takes 6 months for every year of a relationship to truly find healing. I couldn't imagine feeling bad for that long - it was like a 8 year jail sentence. And like waiting for the peony bush to bloom, I wondered if my own life would bloom again.

The peony beat me to the bloom. Its perseverance and strength give me hope that life can go on. That out of death and pain, new life does come and it just takes time. After three years, I can see the growth already. There are leaves and maybe some tight little buds. And in time I am sure like the peony, there will be new blooms bursting out and maybe I will be surprised by the color. Because I still don't know what this new life will look like. Or what is waiting to come out of the ashes. I just know it will. So now I wait and hope. I rest in my Father who knows best and who will always,

. . . give beauty for ashes, joy instead of mourning, praise instead of despair. For the Lord has planted them like strong graceful oaks for his own glory. (Isaiah 61:3)

Taking my Time

Oh but I won't worry 'Cause there's no hurry
The World's not passing me by 'Cause the Lord, He knows
Just where each day goes I know he won't leave me behind
And I won't be bringing A single thing That my heart can't carry inside
'Cause I'm going home And I'm only taking my time
- Taking My Time; lyrics by Christine Dente' and Charlie Peacock

Between April and October, I work in one of the prettiest places in Pittsburgh. Our campus is nestled into the urban sprawl and quaint character of the Shadyside and Squirrel Hill sections of the city. In fact, the 33 acre campus is a nationally registered arboretum. In addition to the abundance of trees and plants, the campus has a fair amount of grass which adds to the aesthetics. And in the spring especially, the hum of the lawnmowers are a constant during the day.

Not too long ago, I watched the groundskeeper's red tractor slowly make its way back and forth across a particularly large portion of lawn. This particular section of grass is on a hill (most recently it was the scene of sled riding). There were lines and small piles of grass clippings in the section that he had already crossed. In front of him, the darker green and longer grass waited for him to pass. The tractor just kept going neither slowing down or speeding up. My reaction was a mixed one both finding it relaxing and a bit troubling.

In my own life, I find it difficult to take my time. I rush ahead trying to problem solve, expedite and move things along. Our society covets things that make life easier and tasks quicker. We don't see ads for products that take longer to use or slow down our lives. Its all about multi-tasking and using our time wisely. Which can be translated as being able to do more things in less time. We want to be efficient to the detriment of everything else. I can only imagine if I was on the tractor, I would be rushing along, trying to get from one side to the other as fast as I can.

But as I rushed from the busyness of work to the busyness of home on that warm spring day. I think I was a bit jealous of the tractor that was trudging along. He didn't seem in a particular hurry and moved along without care. A luxury that I currently didn't have, the leisure to complete a task without looming deadlines or multiple demands. In the end, I guess I would have rather been on a tractor slowly but surely completing a task, than climbing into my car running to the next doctor's appointment or softball game or load of laundry.

In the briefest of moments, the lyrics from the song "Taking my Time" came into my head. A very little known song recorded in the 90's by Susan Ashton, Margaret Becker and Christine Dente', it has been a reminder to this impatient, control freak, that speed and control don't really matter. And worry is unnecessary. . .

"'Cause there's no hurry The World's not passing me by 'Cause the Lord, He knows Just where each day goes I know he won't leave me behind
And I won't be bringing A single thing That my heart can't carry inside
'Cause I'm going home And I'm only taking my time"

Out of breath and Covered in Feathers

My kids and I have watched the new show "Minute to Win It" a few times over the last month. If you haven't seen the show it is on Sunday nights on NBC. Contestants perform a series of tasks each lasting one minute and after successfully completing so many can win a bunch of money. The tasks give me flashbacks to the games I culled from Youth Specialties books in the 90's for youth group activities. Household items are used in challenges that are more about thoughtful and logical action than about strength or physical prowess. A cast of very ordinary people, a timer counting down and hope for a "regular joe" making it big, make the show watchable at least once.

One of the challenges has the contestant keeping two feathers in the air for 60 seconds by blowing them in the air. In a Pavlovian way, my stomach clenches more for this task than any other that I have watched. At first, the feathers float gently through the air and as long as the contestant can keep the feathers above her head, it seems like an effortless task. However, as soon as one feather floats below her shoulder, all hope is loss and she begins running around trying to keep the feathers in the air.

I think my extra reaction to this trivial task stems from the fact that the task reminds me of my own life. I am keeping many more than two feathers in the air at all times. I am a Mom, an employee, a homeowner, a friend, etc. All of these feathers float above me and sometimes it feels effortless to keep them there. But then something changes and one feather needs more attention than another. And the as one dips down, my life becomes chaotic as I try to play "catch up." Soon all the feathers are falling and I am running around like a chicken with her head cut off.

For the past month, this is the image of my life. The feathers are falling and I am unable to keep up. For a single Mom, it feels especially lonely in this place. And I cannot claim success in either keeping the feathers a float or not breaking down in a tantrum of "it's not fair" feet stomping. However, in a precious quiet moment this morning, I can make a couple of observations.

1) Friends are invaluable. Self-sufficiency is both my blessing and my curse. It becomes a matter of pride for me that I prove to the doubters in my life that I can do all of this on my own. And I will sacrifice my own sense of self worth and physical health to prove I am capable. But I have learned in the past 3 years, that going it alone is not a show of strength but a show of my own pride and ignorance. I am thankful for my friends here in Pittsburgh who have stepped in to help me. And I am thankful for my friends around the country who have propped me up in many ways even without being here.

2) Success is relative and sometimes not easily seen. On the game show, when the timer counts down to zero with the feathers still in the air, the audience erupts in applause and the contestant celebrates. In life, we don't get many of these highly visible moments of success. And sometimes the successes are not visible on the outside. They are small things like replacing the seat on the commode by myself (I actually took pictures) or seeing your child smile at the dinner table. And often the victories are unnoticed with no chance for applause or celebration. No matter how quiet or small, a success is a success.

3) Its all in the steps. The trick to the game is to keeping the feathers afloat one breath at a time. Losing focus can mean disaster and it is not possible to make the timer move faster or thinking beyond the next breath. And I am learning that with each challenge, its about focusing on the next step and not the journey's end. The feathers will float on their own whim. So a well choreographed plan can't be made, you go where the feathers take you. And life is often like that, I can make a plan to reach a goal. But things change and I have to adapt. Focusing on the next step and trusting that it will take us where we need to be is the key to success or at least my sanity.

4) God is more than enough. I have come to discover that when I feel like saying "Enough is enough" God says He is more than enough. So things are not what I had planned when I was 18 and my kids have had to face more challenges at their ages than some ever face in their lives but God is still in control. I am angry and I can be bitter but it gets me no way. God has been faithful and has never abandoned us. And that gives me hope that even if life contains more challenges than moments of victory, God will hold me close. And there is joy in this crazy journey.

In the end, I have come to figure out that I don't have to fear the feathers falling. When the final buzzer rings, the applause will be no more or less whether the feathers fell to the ground or stayed in the air. Because the goal is not about keeping everything afloat but about trusting the One who will never let me fall, sharing each other's loads and loving those around me. And that is enough for me.