Friendship

Friendship.

Has there ever been one word that brings with it a deep gnawing pain and an incredible sense of joy at the same time? Feelings of hurt flood your mind like flashbacks to a veteran who has not been able to wipe the bloodstains of war from his heart. The delight that fills your entire being can be likened to a mother seeing her newborn for the very first time. This one significant word brings you to reality as you face fear and delight straight-on.

Friend. Yes, it is just a simple word, and with it comes an open invitation to vulnerability and shared life. To see light and love in another. This word brings scars that still remain from past wounds out into the open as love draws me through fear.

Trust me, I know that friendship is not for the faint of heart. It takes guts, courage, and vulnerability. True, healthy, God-breathed friendship will break through fear and failure and thrust our entire being into the realm of virtue and healing. It is through these friendships that we are transformed.

This is my command: Love one another the way I loved you. This is the very best way to love. Put your life on the line for your friends. You are my friends when you do the things I command you. I’m no longer calling you servants because servants don’t understand what their master is thinking and planning. No, I’ve named you friends because I’ve let you in on everything I’ve heard from the Father. -John 15

In the quiet moments

Road trips. I have a love-hate relationship with them. After traveling for six years with my family of six in a 36’ box (the dealers actually call it an R.V.) that countered as our home for 6 years, I’ve had my share of cross-country adventures on four tires sitting behind the steering wheel or in the passenger seat, map in hand, navigating the highways and interstates for my Dad who was usually preoccupied with talk radio. Over the past few years I’ve opted for the swift destination arrival option which is what I consider one of the most incredible inventions known to man – travel by air.

However, I had the opportunity to visit family over the holiday season and I didn’t want to miss it. Checking my luggage, quickly boarding a plane, reading a book for an hour or so, and arriving at my destination would be ideal. I usually have interesting experiences in airports, which is yet another reason I prefer a bustling crowd where I am free to remain somewhat removed and introverted, content to observe others at a distance. But a lonely car ride where silence is my companion was definitely not appealing. I took the car for this road trip.

Fast forward to last night. I had the privilege of enjoying dinner with someone I haven’t really connected with for several years. As we shared about life’s journey to this point and the experiences we’ve struggled through, our conversation turned to 2013 and remembering the highlights of the year. During our conversation I remembered my road trip this past holiday season and realized that I actually enjoyed the travel time. Something happened that was a true miracle in my eyes. An assured awareness of how deeply I am loved was revealed to me during this trip within the first hour!

How does this relate?
The means that we are led to take throughout our journey in life may differ, we may not like them. We may complain in the moments of silence when challenging questions don’t make sense because we can’t figure out an answer. Even here… we are loved. Life is not about quickness. It’s not about instant gratification where self is center. It is about experiencing love in the unexpected moments with those you would and those you would not necessarily anticipate this possibility. Life is cherishing each moment that love, hope, and freedom break into our complex, busy, event saturated day to day lives.

Here's to cherishing the quiet moments!

Dad, I love you

Dad,

I just want to take this chance to say thank you.

Thank you for all of your encouraging words, but even more... thank you for your encouraging actions.
Thank you for always reminding me that I am free. I don't have to be tied to a system of thinking or believing to find my identity. My identity rests in Christ alone. Thank you for reminding me that I am beautiful and that I have an incredible, unique gift that nobody else can offer to others, and no matter what... no matter how many times my heart is hurt or situations and relationships seem hopeless... we have Love to share with others.
Thank you for waking up at 2am many nights when I would call crying about a difficult situation.
Thank you for knowing what to do:: pray with me.

Thank you for teaching me to cherish simple moments... moments like playing Mr. Bowl with you when I was 4... remember that Dad? We would put bowls on our heads and make-believe we lived in another country and could speak another language or just talk about anything we wanted to.
Thank you for taking time out of your work-week to stay home and teach Greek Mythology during the dreadful years of homeschooling (p.s. I liked your class the best).

Thank you for gathering our family together to have "family meetings" where we talked about our feelings and the things that concerned us. You showed me how to express my thoughts and concerns with others close to me.... our family. You taught me that it is okay to discuss and say what I am thinking or feeling in that very moment. You taught me that it is okay to ask the hard questions in life and you taught me that it is okay to be real and admit that I may not have it all together... because in reality, most people really don't. You taught me how to work hard, even if it means taking time out of doing what I want to do.... just so I can complete the task well and keep my word.

Thank you for showing me what it means to "seek and find".... after all the years moving from church to church... you never chose to be satisfied with the politics of it all. Dad, you are a visionary. Thank you for showing me what it looks like to be fearless. To say the things nobody else is saying, even when it cost you your job as a "pastor". You were spiritually hungry enough to literally travel the country to search for what you knew in your heart as truth, saying "there must be more".... more to the Church. You were so hungry to see the Eternal Purpose that God placed in your spirit in reality. You probably don't know this, but when you took your sabbatical when I was 8 years old and we were living in that house in Illinois, I would sit at the top of the stairs to the basement and listen to you pray during your devotional time. I would cry with you in the early morning hours when your cries for the Church to be who She is truly meant to be reached me there on that top stair. I wanted to see your burdens lifted and hear the joy in your voice again. I wanted to see the light in your eyes every day.

Dad, thank you. I love you more than words can ever express and I just wanted you to know how incredibly much you mean to me.

This quote reminds me of you...
"It is not the critic who counts, not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer or deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error or shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiams, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither knew victory or defeat."
~Theodore Roosevelt, excerpted from the speech “Citizenship in a Republic” delivered at the Sorbonne, in Paris, France on 23 April, 1910.

Your Words

I have loved you for what seems like ages

You said you loved me too
But gradually this changed
It was odd that you kept using the same words
Did you think I would be convinced?
Your actions were heartless and your words worthless
You didn't see that your passion was gone
When you thought I didn't notice, I saw you looking for another love
My heart broke when you told me that I shouldn't be concerned

A few months have passed and you now realize what led our love to ruin
I am angry
Angry because I believed your words
My love for you was not defined or dependent upon your efforts

We are distant now
Our relationship will take time to mend
But please know that I still love you with a love that seems unfamiliar to you
This love is written in the very fabric of your being. I can see it.

Today we know in part but a day is coming when you will fully know the depth of my love for you

A love I seemed to lose

A love I seemed to lose.
Interesting, isn't it?
The ebb and flow of our relationship.

The years that passed when I felt alone, hopeless and abandoned?
Yet you never left.
You were always with me in the shadows.
Now you are in full color.

I love thee with a love I seemed to lose.
- Elizabeth Barrett Browning

 

Touch

You placed your hand firmly on my arm and then you laughed. Jovial in your expression. Fearless. Defenseless. Unconcerned with my thoughts of your motive. Unchanging amidst others judgment of your intention.

The joy in your eyes is remarkable. The gentleness in your touch is unmistakable.

Your touch gently breaks past the barriers. Your touch reaches down into the depths and with it brings Light.

Though unaware, your touch heals some broken part of me that escaped and stayed hidden in the darkest night.

The Day He Visited Us

Many people ask me what it is like to be part of a body of believers who are seeking to live by the indwelling life of Christ. I am often asked: "What do the times that you meet together look like?" I wrote this in reflecting on our meetings and hope this post conveys just a small glimpse into what I see when I meet with this precious group of people.

The Day He Visited Us

You visited us today.

 

You walked in casually - a few minutes late. We all gathered together and sang "Resting Place" ... that one song you love.

 

I looked up from where my eyes had fallen and there you were- tears gently resting in your eyes as you gazed at each of us. Even though the song was slow, I could see the excitement of a little child in Maureen's posture as you looked at her and grinned. It was as though she wished to run, throw her arms around your neck and hug you at that very moment. Then your eyes met Lon's eyes. I could see that there is a deep intimate understanding the two of you shared. You've been friends for many years- journeying through the glory and trials in the journey of life. There was s serious calm in your gaze. Meredith caught your eye and you mouthed eleven priceless words - "Meredith, your spirit is with me. You are complete in me." Her expression softened as she sang "Here Oh Lord have we prepared a resting place". Then you slowly moved to stand between Roger and Linda. Roger rested his arm over your shoulders, tears slipping down his cheeks. He remembered the quiet moments when your love saturated his. He recalled the common bond the two of you share. He continually tells us of the unending love he has for you. Thankfully you never grow tired of hearing our stories of how you have taken us and transformed us into your likeness. Mrs. Linda wrapped her arm around your waist, leaned over, kissed your cheek and whispered "I love you". Just as we sang the phrase "where will my resting place be?" a loud clap of thunder shook the house. Your gaze met Janine's and you smiled at one another like you knew a secret that can only be shared between best friends.

 

As we continued to sing the simple lyrics "Heaven is my throne and Earth is my footstool"... I heard two voices, you and Wendy's voices, just a bit louder than the rest. Together... your voice with hers and her voice with yours. Though they were uniquely distinct - they were one. Your voices harmonized, flowing in and out together - one complimenting the other like a beautiful dance. When we finished singing, you quickly moved from between Roger and Linda to face Walt and Corina. You placed your hand on each of their shoulders, forming a small circle. You whispered sweet words of hope. We all gathered around you to speak these words of encouragement to this precious couple. I didn't hear everything you said to them, but I did hear you say "Rest in ME. In my time and through my means the wildest dreams, only the dreams that I have given you, will come into reality." Then you turned and whispered in Mrs. Bonnie's ear. As she giggled her eyes lit up with delight. She reached underneath her chair and handed her poetry book to you. You opened the book to the very first page, read the poem to us, then looked up and said: "All of you may not know this, but Bonnie and I have been writing poems together to share with you for quite a while." Then you turned the page to the very last, looked assuredly at Mrs. Bonnie, nudging her to read the poem that you wrote together the night before.

When she finished, you stood in the middle of the room and turned to look at each of us. As you looked into our eyes you said:
 

    "You are the home that I am building for myself. It is not for you to strive. Rest in Me. You are completely free. Come to ME you who are weary. I am your rest. You have heard the cry of my heart - for my resting place. This is why I have drawn you - each and every one of you here together. I will build my home. Blessed are you because you are not offended on account of me. You each have searched for me- not your idea, your agenda, not your desire to mold things to your wish dream- and you have found me. I am with you. I am in you and I am working through you. I am revealing myself to you and you, my beloved bride, are my resting place."

Dear Grandpa

I miss you. Today I was missing our weekly Saturday morning phone conversations... the ones when I would roll out of bed and call you immediately because I knew you'd have been up for nearly 3 hours and ready to take Grandma out to breakfast. You'd tease and say that since she'd been a good wife that week, you'd splurge and reward her with coffee and a roll from McDonalds. We would laugh and you'd talk about the weather or how your garden was doing. Or... how Grandma had been listening to Joyce Meyer too much and had gotten caught up in the feminist movement and you needed to take her down a peg or two (lol) =]. You'd always take time to ask me how my car was running and nearly every time you asked about my love life.

I miss your simple way of looking at everything. It was simple in that charming way. You were a common man, but you had an incredibly uncommon way of looking at life and caring for others. Even if someone had upset you, you would still give them the shirt off your own back when they were in need.

I still remember the first time you told me you loved me. Usually, I would tell you first, and you'd say "You too dear!" But one day just a few years ago, you finally told me you loved me too. I was so excited! I knew you weren't one to express your emotions too much, and to me this moment meant the world! Thank you for saying that. Thank you for telling me you love me.

Miss you. See you soon. I love you.

Nischelle

remember

"Remember your first Love"

re·mem·ber/riˈmembər/
Verb:
Be able to bring to one's mind an awareness of (someone or something that one has seen, known, or experienced in the past).

the Light. the Hope. once poured into every part. dispelling Darkness. it's those little points of light that work in and bring relief. rest. relief and rest from what some call the dark night of the soul.

everything



sunset

One of the more glorious sights during my getaway weekend
to Pensacola Beach last week. The sky was so many shades of
lavendar, pink, bright yellow and orange.
So amazingly beautiful.

when she smiles

The worst pain for a girl is when she smiles, just to keep the tears from falling and sleeps, just so she doesn't have to think about it.

When she throws away the key to her heart, just so absolutely noone can come again, find it, and break her heart all over again.

The worst fear for a girl is when she hears all those words she heard the last friend say... she hears the promises that he will always be there for her, he'll cherish her heart and treat her the way she should be treated... then cautiously, carefully she trusts ... and yet again he does the same thing the others did.... leaves when it gets just too complicated, requires too much of him and asks too much.

The girl doesn't want him to have all the answers, she doesn't want him to "complete her". She just wants him to be the one who keeps his words. the words she cherished when he said he was cherishing her heart. She just wants him to sit beside her as she cries and say again "we will work through this together"

The worst pain for a girl is when she smiles, just to keep the tears from falling.

today we said goodbye

4/28/12 :: 5:05am

we all stood there around your bed, crying... holding your hands, touching your arm and telling you that it's okay to leave. that we'll see you again soon. Nicole stood next to you with her hand on your heart, Grandma kept kissing you and telling you she loves you. Uncle Kelly was holding your head. Uncle Bruce asked Jesus to come and get you. Aunt Rebecca assured you that it was okay to let go. Dad.... Dad just kept crying and telling you that we'd see you soon. Alyssa couldn't stop watching you. just looking at  you. I wanted to keep holding your hand. all 13 of us were there with you. we weren't  going to let you be alone when you passed through the valley.

but before you took your last breath, i know you heard everything we said to you. i know you heard us tell you how much we love you. you heard the bluegrass music i had playing at the bedside there in ccu. you heard Nathanael on the phone when he called to tell you that he would keep your memories alive in his heart. you heard Brendan tell you  that he was so thankful for the example of a Godly man you had been to him. you heard Dad when he prayed for you as you struggled to breathe, when he buried his head next to yours, tears soaking your pillow as he told you how much he loves you. how great of a dad you are to him.

we all stayed there with you hours after you took your last breath.
it was so hard to let you leave. and then, to leave you.

now we say goodbye...
goodbye to the times you called just to see how the weather is
 the countless times you called to ask me how my love life is...
 and normally my answer was "the same as last time you called Grandpa"

goodbye to hearing you say all those old, funny sayings.
  the ones that we all loved to hear you say because noone says it like you do
goodbye to your warm hugs and the funny way you pull on your suspenders and tell us how we all
take after you and your good looks.

i miss you.

on strength

oftentimes when I'm going through a difficult time (which seems to be quite often these days)... you know, those certain life experiences that leave others answer-less and you sit on the phone with a friend in silence... silence that lends to a peaceful comfort acknowledging that you can't figure it out... it's just life, and we must learn to be content with not always knowing.... it is these times, when all around me seems to crumble, that others tell me how strong I am. that I can make it, to keep pressing on and trusting that everything will work together.

sometimes i want to yell back at them and tell them just how incredibly weak i feel, how weak i am. with everything in me, i do not know myself to be strong. i think to myself (as they're encouraging me of the strength they see in me) "if you only knew me.... if only you truly saw my inner struggles and weaknesses, then you probably wouldn't be saying this right now".

I came across a blog a year ago.... one written by a girl who i've known for about 3 years. she is a lovely girl who is an incredible writer... capturing the unspoken ache my heart longs for someone to hear. she wrote a blog on strength... and on those who are thought to be strong by others. today, like many days, this blog comes as a comfort.

She says:
"strong people are often great listeners, but have given up on sharing about themselves because most of the time, when they start speaking about themselves, the subject is almost immediately changed to something less heavy. and when a strong person does get the opportunity to talk about themselves, they will almost always release every sentiment they’ve held in, like a dam breaking, and will overwhelm the person.
strong people are often lonely, because although they have the tenacity to love unconditionally, they often find themselves lacking that same love in return. their relationships will be intentionally one-sided, often leaving the other person confused. strong people will not stay for long. they don’t let themselves get attached, because every relationship just reinforces the fact that nobody wants to know who they are on their insides.
[Jessica Freeman: Strong People]

so... to everyone who is encouraging the "strong people" in your life... take a minute to wait, be still and listen. Often they aren't sharing everything that's been held inside for so long. they know that it might be too difficult for you to hear, it might cause you to distance yourself from the hard issues they are facing... so they remain silent and ultimately alone.

to everyone who is strong. it's okay to be weak. it's okay to embrace the fear, the pain and the unspoken hopes... and entrust all to the One who will never leave you, who always listens and who ultimately will be your true strength. but along the way, it's okay to open up and trust a few around you who have proven that they are trustworthy. maybe one day that one will show you the strength and love you need in the right moment at the right time... the strength, reassurance and love that allows you to breathe deep again, to see to tomorrow and keep journeying through life.

"He told me... 'My grace is enough; it's all you need. My strength comes into its own in your weakness. Once I heard that, I was glad to let it happen. I quit focusing on the handicap and began appreciating the gift. It was a case of Christ's strength moving in on my weakness. Now I take limitations in stride, and with good cheer, these limitations that cut me down to size... And so the weaker I get, the stronger I become." :: 2 Corinthians 12: 9-11

when all else fails

Love knows no limits to its endurance,
no end to its trust, no fading of its hope;
it can outlast anything.
It is, in fact, the one thing that stands
when all else has fallen.”

― Elisabeth Elliot

How do I love Thee? :: by Elizabeth Barrett Browning [1806-1861]

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of everyday's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love thee with a passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints, --- I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life! --- and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.

Isaiah 1

Listen to God's case:
"I had children and raised them well,
and they turned on me.
The ox knows who's boss,
the mule knows the hand that feeds him,
But not Israel.
My people don't know up from down.
Shame! Misguided God-dropouts,
staggering under their guilt-baggage,
Gang of miscreants,
band of vandals—
My people have walked out on me, their God,
turned their backs on The Holy of Israel,
walked off and never looked back.
^5-9"Why bother even trying to do anything with you
when you just keep to your bullheaded ways?
You keep beating your heads against brick walls.
Everything within you protests against you.
From the bottom of your feet to the top of your head,
nothing's working right.
Wounds and bruises and running sores—
untended, unwashed, unbandaged.
Your country is laid waste,
your cities burned down.
Your land is destroyed by outsiders while you watch,
reduced to rubble by barbarians.
Daughter Zion is deserted—
like a tumbledown shack on a dead-end street,
Like a tarpaper shanty on the wrong side of the tracks,
like a sinking ship abandoned by the rats.
If God-of-the-Angel-Armies hadn't left us a few survivors,
we'd be as desolate as Sodom, doomed just like Gomorrah.
¹⁰"Listen to my Message,
you Sodom-schooled leaders.
Receive God's revelation,
you Gomorrah-schooled people.
^11-12"Why this frenzy of sacrifices?"
God's asking.
"Don't you think I've had my fill of burnt sacrifices,
rams and plump grain-fed calves?
Don't you think I've had my fill
of blood from bulls, lambs, and goats?
When you come before me,
whoever gave you the idea of acting like this,
Running here and there, doing this and that—
all this sheer commotion in the place provided for worship?
^13-17"Quit your worship charades.
I can't stand your trivial religious games:
Monthly conferences, weekly Sabbaths, special meetings—
meetings, meetings, meetings—I can't stand one more!
Meetings for this, meetings for that. I hate them!
You've worn me out!
I'm sick of your religion, religion, religion,
while you go right on sinning.
When you put on your next prayer-performance,
I'll be looking the other way.
No matter how long or loud or often you pray,
I'll not be listening.
And do you know why? Because you've been tearing
people to pieces, and your hands are bloody.
Go home and wash up.
Clean up your act.
Sweep your lives clean of your evildoings
so I don't have to look at them any longer.
Say no to wrong.
Learn to do good.
Work for justice.
Help the down-and-out.
Stand up for the homeless.
Go to bat for the defenseless.
:: Isaiah 1 [The Message]

repost. Nov. 18, 2011

What is love?
That which makes us grasp for more.
More of what we cannot produce on our own?
Once experienced it leaves a mark upon ones soul- an ache for more that can never be replaced.

To have love is the ache of the lonely.
To give love is the cry of the selfless.
To cultivate a life of love, I believe, is the greatest accomplishment of the human soul

Place me like a seal over your heart, like a seal on your arm;
for love is as strong as death, its jealousy unyielding as the grave.
~Song of Songs 8

skin deep

They say beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
My how true this is.
And how fleeting this perception of beauty the beholder tends to have
So easily distracted and pulled to the next fleeting infatuation termed "beauty"

Slowly, ever so carefully, what was once called beautiful is redefined
Redefined to suit the justification of a heart turned to another
Another, who.... has altogether become
Beauty for the eyes of the same beholder

be there for her