Stages

We watched home videos last night to celebrate the girls' birthdays. There was Rachel with blonde curly hair smiling her little smile and speaking so distinctly-almost with a British accent. There was Christina toddling across the floor, plopping down with her thumb in her mouth-both of them, big eyes looking at the camera-in the tub splashing each other with bubbles-crawling like crabs and going in circles like dogs chasing their tails. It made me long for those carefree days when everything we did was fun and new and life was just a breeze. But then I realize that I do not have the energy for that anymore and that I like to be able to have the long conversations about deep issues with my girls that I have now. They will never be babies again, or really kids, but they will always be mine and we will always love each other and be in each other's lives and for that I am so grateful. Thank you, God, for giving me such exceptional people to be my children and for the privilege of raising them.

Flying and Faith

I love flying! However, being in the clouds is a little unnerving. It reminds me of our walk of faith-a little unnerving as well. In the lcouds, I trust the pilot to know where he is going, thought I can't see a lick-and I so want to! I trust God too, to pilot my life-guide me through the thick of it even when I can't see. I depend on the plane-to be secure, steady and safe-as I depend on God Almightymy refuge-my steel cabin. The turbulence comes in the clouds as it does in life. I get jostled and jiggled and knocked around but...Jesus Saviour Pilot Me!

Beauty from Ashes

Isaiah 61:3 says that God will comfort those who mourn, that He will "give them a garland instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, the mantle of praise instead of a spirit of faiting so they will be called oaks of righteousness, the planting of the Lord, that He may be glorified." I want to be an oak of righteousness but first come the ashes. I experienced this verse first hand as my daughters and I went to minister at an Alzheimer's center this past week. God blew away the ashes and mourning of my mom's diagnosis with Alzheimer's and of my Aunt's recent death (she had Alzheimers) and allowed me to see His beautiful garland through the ministering hands of my daughters. As they played the piano and rubbed lotion on these precious people's hands, my heart melted-my soul was beautified and the oil of gladness flowed in my heart. To hear my girls speak words of comfort and gentleness to these often forgotten people and to rub their hands with tenderness and sing along to "Jesus Loves Me" ministered to my broken heart better than anything else. And God gave me a vision-to work with people with Alzheimers-to care for them, love them, bring some small joy and light into their lives-however transient. This is the planting of the Lord and I know He will bring it to pass. I feel a joy instead of helplessness. I feel I have come home.

Denial

Denial is like the eye of a hurricane. It brings a pseudo sense of peace in the midst of the storm. You think all is well, for a brief time. Then into the storm you go again-get whipped around in the fury, realize that "oh, yes, this is a storm I am in" and long for that sweet eye spot again. I have been in denial about my mother's Alzheimers-just for a brief time-just a couple of weeks. Enough time for me to sweep it into the background of my life while I go on. Last night I was thrown from the eye back into the storm. I have come to realize that although it is not optimal, I am going to have to use denial again periodically. Like a window shade you can pull down to hide the view outside. I will have to pull it down so I can go on with my life and concentrate on what is inside the house and not the ravages outside. My shade will give a little relief and then I know it will suddenly spring open, unexpectedly or perhaps I will open it for a little peek. Maybe someday, by God's grace alone, I can lift it completely and live inside, while still fully seeing what is outside. God will give me the strength to do this someday. But for now, I think He is helping protect me until He knows I am strong enough-to weather the storm-to really see what is outside.