Where Else Would I Go?

I came across something in an antique store the other day that brought a smile to my face.  There, tucked away in a corner, was a boxy red, white, and blue American flag- emblazoned suitcase straight out of the 70's.  I had one just like it when I was a little girl.   I loved (seems like a strong word for an inanimate object but it's true) that suitcase .  As a child, our family  never took many trips, so I can't even remember officially using it.  To this day I can still remember where it sat in my room.  I never put it in a closet or under my bed.  It sat out for all to see. 
I do recall using that retro "blast from the past" piece of luggage one time though.  It wasn't packed for a vacation, a summer camp, or a stay at Grandma's or anything of the sort.  This time it was packed because I was running away from home.  Yep, I was ticked, fed up with my 1970's life, and ready to hit the road.   I can still remember throwing some clothes and my Mrs. Beasley doll in my suitcase and taking off walking down our dirt road. I must have looked quite the sight with my Shirley Partridge shag haircut and bellbottom pants stomping off in the direction of the highway. I'm sure I was belly-aching the whole way, complaining about how life wasn't fair and that I'd be better off if I lived somewhere else (you know-the grass is always greener mentality). 
I didn't get very far when it dawned on me that I really had no other place to go.  I had no one that could take care of me quite the way my parents could.  No one that would feed me and to keep me safe.  No one that would watch over me when I was scared.  No one that would help me make acceptable choices.  No one that would steer me in the right direction.  My parents did all of these things and I realized that I'd be lost without them.
As you probably already figured out, I turned around and walked right back home that day.  I knew I couldn't make it on my own and I really didn't, deep down inside, want to try it anyway.
I'd like to say that I've come a long way since those "running away" days, but there are still times when I want to pack my bags and escape.  Times, when I've asked Him for relief from an annoying situation and He doesn't give it to me because He's growing my character.  Times when I've prayed for someone who is sick and He doesn't heal them because His ways and His understanding are higher than mine. Times when I've prayed about the peer pressure my oldest sons are going through and he doesn't answer me immediately because His timing is perfect and mine is not.
Each seemingly unanswered prayer doesn't really make me want to pack my bags and hit the road.  Where would I go?  I've been through life without Him and, let me tell you, it stinks.  I lived a defeated life, an "insecure about who I was" life, and a life with no purpose for way too long, and it got me nowhere.  
Once I met Him, I was forever changed.  I realized that no one can take care of me like He can. No one can feed me (He is the Bread of Life) and keep me safe like He can. No one can watch over me when I'm scared like He can. No one can help me make acceptable choices or steer me in the right direction like He can.  He does all of these things plus millions more and I would be lost without Him. 

Then Jesus turned to the twelve and asked, "Are you gong to leave me, too?"  Simon Peter replied, "Lord, to whom would we go? You alone have the words that give eternal life. We believe them, and we know You are the Holy One of God." John 6:67-69 (NLT)

A "Diving Right In" or "Just Dabbling" Kind of Life?

"An excessive heat warning is being issued for the St. Louis area. Expect a record high of 98 today with searing high humidity and a heat index of 102," I heard the TV weatherman announce one recent morning.  Welcome to good 'ole Missouri summer weather.  It's when I hear weather reports like this that I'm so grateful for our backyard swimming pool.
The boys dig out their swimming trunks from their dressers and I freshly launder their beachtowels sometime in March in preperation for "opening day".  Come late April it's time to peel back the pool cover and see what creatures have taken up residency in the murky water.  Once we've shocked the water and it's a normal aqua blue color once again it's time for someone to take the ceremonial "first dive".  The someone usually turns out to be my youngest son, Joseph.  He'll climb onto the diving board while his big brothers chant "Joe! Joe! Joe!".  Then he'll take a deep breath, run, bounce on the end, and then heroically dive into the extra chilly water.  From that day on until late September there's usually at least one or two people in the pool each day splashing around.
As opposed to my amphibious-like boys, I take my good sweet time getting in the pool.  My pool entering criteria is quite specific. The water usually has to be a very comfortable 86 degrees, the sun has to be out with few clouds in the sky, there can only be a slight or, better yet, no breeze in the air.  As you can tell, my list of conditions has to be near perfect. 
When I do finally get in, it's usually to float on a raft and sunbathe.  My tanning routine goes something like this-thirty minutes on my tummy, flip over,thirty minutes on my back and then I repeat; all the while making sure that I don't get my hair wet in the process. 
My unadventurous and calculable pool habits drive my boys crazy.  "Come on, Mom, dive in!", "Play Marco Polo with us, Mom", "Let's have a diving contest, Mom" are just some of their many aquatic invitations.  "Maybe another day, guys," or "I don't want to get my hair wet, fellas," I may respond.
The boys play and have a blast while Mom lays out was all pretty much the standard swimming pool routine until recently.  Not too long ago one of my kids, I'm not sure which one, said something pretty profound that made me change my stubborn predictable pool ways.  He said, "Mom, how will you know you won't have a blast until you dive right in?  You never know, you might like it." 
To most people that may not sound like a profound statement, but it was to me.  Let me explain.  I'm a very predictable person.  A steady-as-you-go, creature of habit kind of lady that likes to have both her feet on the ground and avoids anything remotely dangerous or adventurous.  Sticking to a routine and not veering from it is how I operate. 
This comment could have been spoken from the lips of my heavenly Father instead of from one of my kids as far as I'm concerned.  I think sometimes God uses innocent words from children to teach us lessons.  He did for me that day.  It was as if He was the One in the water beckoning me to "dive right in" and experience things like never before.  To dive into things in life that aren't always predictable.  Things that I need to trust Him with.  Things that I'll never experience until I try them.  It was as if He was telling me that I can't put Him and His ways in a neat little box.  That I can't even imagine His greatness and His power.  That I can't control Him and manipulate my surroundings to my liking.  That I don't have to wait for perfect conditions to experience Him.  That I could go around the pool of this thing we call "Life", only dabbling  my feet into the water or I could experience Him completely and wholeheartedly taking risks along the way knowing that He has everything and, I mean everything, under control.
I wonder how many of you out there reading this are like me.  There's bound to be a few of you.  What do you say, do you want to take a chance and dive right into the water of Life with me?  There's safety there.  In the words of my son, "You never know you might like it." 
Marco?  Polo....Marco?  Polo....

Jesus replied, “If you only knew the gift God has for you and who you are speaking to, you would ask me, and I would give you living water.” John 4:10

The Soft Side of a Tough Kid

Today I got to do something that I'd been looking forward to all week.  Oh, I gave the impression on the outside that I was enjoying my freedom and in no hurry to be once again burdened, but it was just a facade.  On the inside I was counting the minutes to the reunion.  It had felt like a chunk of my heart was missing all week and this morning I got a part of that piece back. What am I rambling on about ? Today I picked up my youngest son, Joseph, from camp.  
I was determined to not to shed a tear once I spotted him.  I didn't want to embarrass him in front of his new friends or risk putting a dent in his "tough guy" image. For the most part I held it together as I nonchalantly said, "Hey, Joe, what's up?"  No hugs were exchanged.  No sloppy kisses given.  How clever of me.  On the inside every bit of me was screaming, "I've missed you like crazy, Joseph. I've been thinking about you from the minute you left!"   I did it. I stayed strong and held my emotions in check.
The closing ceremonies at the camp were wonderful as usual.  There was a buzz of excitement in the air the entire time.   The kids' passionate behavior during the ceremony was infectious and I had the "if only I was a kid again" feeling the entire time. 
It wasn't until Joe and I were on our way home that I finally asked him to tell me about camp. After the standard "it was great" answer, he opened up to me further by telling me his favorite activities, favorite food, and favorite new friend. This dialogue went on for quite some time when, all of a sudden, he paused mid-sentence and said, with a catch in his throat, "Mom, I really missed you."  This was quickly followed by "and I love you a lot." Gasp!  You could have blown me over with a feather.  This comment came from my son who is usually very hard-as-nails tough.  From my son who lives up to the position he plays in hockey-an unyielding rough and tough defenseman. From my son who can, at times, rub me the wrong way.  From my son who if I say something is black will come back insisting that it's really white instead.  This strong-willed son said he missed me and that he loved me! Don't get me wrong-Joe has told me that he loves me many times, but it was his vulnerable confession in this quiet moment that was so precious and meant the world to me.
We took our time during our mother-son drive back home; stopping to have lunch and refuel.  Every now and then we'd pull off when we'd spot an exit that advertised a nearby antique mall (all of my kids love to antique shop with me).
It wasn't until Joe fell asleep about an hour from home that I got to quietly reflect on his "I missed you" and "I love you" words.  You see, I've always been a little hard on myself in the motherhood department. I've wished that I was a better mother. I've wished that I was more patient with my kids. I've wished that I was more understanding and more grace-filled towards them.  Before today, my "wish-list" seemed endless.  Until Joe spoke those words.  Those words gave me hope.  They encouraged me.  Maybe I'm not doing such a bad job afterall.  Maybe I'm impacting my boys in ways I didn't know.  Maybe, just maybe, I'm doing an okay job. 
It was then that I heard my heavenly Father speak gently to my heart and say "I told you so, Lynn. I've believed in you the whole time. I knew that you were cut out for this job.  You won't always be perfect, but you're the one I want for this special job. I planned it this way."
Next weekend I pick up my oldest sons from camp.  I'm not sure what their reponse will be when they see me.  Will they  hug me?  Will they give me kisses?  Will they say "I've missed you, Mom?"  I don't care.  I'm okay with whatever they say or do because today I got my confirmation from my heavenly Father above and that's all that really matters.  

"Children are a gift from the LORD; they are a reward from Him." ~Psalm 127:3

***Check out this video...it really has nothing to do with the topic of this blog entry, but it kind of reminds me of what I (and most mothers in general) would do with my children in the same situation.***

The Road Less Traveled?

There aren't any established hiking trails on our property in the country, but there are miles and miles of roads on which I can get my hiking "fix".   I could get my exercise by bravely fighting my way through the thick briar-ridden woods, but it would cost me-I'm sure I would spot an occasional snake (eek!) and ticks and bug bites would be sure to follow.  Maybe some day I'll make that venture, but for now I'll stick to the safety of the roads. 
On a recent early morning walk, I spotted many acres of beautiful flowers all abloom.  My favorites were the wild Black-eyed Susans and the Widow's Lace. They seemed to be everywhere-along the roadside, up on hillsides and in shaded glens. While strolling, I spied a box turtle lazily crossing the road.  I think I surprised him; once he saw me he picked up his pace and scooted off to the other side of the road.  On that same morning, I was lucky enough to walk up on a turkey sitting on her roost in a tree.  One look at me was all it took-she flew from her perch in such a rush that she made it clear across the road and into a nearby field! 
The roads snake all through our property but I can't get lost-all I have to do is follow them and stay on their path.  They all trail fullcircle and I'll eventually end up right back at our cabin.  Although shortcuts through the woods would be a faster route, I look forward to my walks on our country roads.  I never know what I might spot around the next bend. I'm usually in no hurry and can take my time to enjoy the views. 
Following the paths along our country roads makes me think of a time when I chose a different route in life. The one I chose was a path of self-destruction.  A path that led to short-term fulfillment and what I mistakenly thought was happiness. A path of "if it feels good then do it" mentality.  A path that had me so confused that I didn't even know who I was anymore.  A path that had me going in all the wrong directions and left me too exhausted to even enjoy the view. 
And then I met HIM. He redirected me and showed me what it was like to walk on a road of safety.  He showed me what it was like to slow down, find true happiness and joy, to discover know who I was (His daughter) and to get to know Him.  1 Peter 2:21 says "Christ who suffered for you, is your example.  Follow in His steps."
Many of my friends (and even some in my family) were concerned when I decided to take a different road and follow Him.  They were comfortable knowing me just the way I was.  Why should I "rock the boat" and change a seemingly good thing? Why would I want to follow a road that, to them, seemed boring and too limiting?  Even Joshua knew people like this "but my brothers who went with me frightened the people and discouraged them from entering the Promised Land.  For my part, I followed the LORD my God completely." (Joshua 14:8) 
Like Joshua, I chose to believe His promises.  I changed the direction I was going and I followed the Lord completely.  I listened to Him calling me and never looked back. "And He called to (her) to come, too.  And (she) immediately followed Him leaving her (things) behind." (John 4:22)  And, like the two believers walking on the road to Emmaus, my eyes were opened when He told me about Himself. "Didn't our hearts feel strangely warm as He talked with us on the road and explained the scriptures to us?" Luke 24:32
I'm so grateful that He has redirected me and put me on the road I'm on.  Now I'm safe.  I belong.  I know who I am. I am His-forever.
"All those who want to be  my disciples must come and follow Me...and if they follow Me, the Father will honor them." John 12:26

Paths

I recently returned from a trip to the beautiful state of Alaska.  It has rightfully earned its nickname of "The Last Frontier". It seemed as if everywhere I turned the view was prettier than the one before.  Massive trees and snow capped mountains towered above me on all sides.  Forests surrounded me that housed trees that are hundreds of years old and are untouched by man.  The landscape is truly breathtaking.
Our stay in Alaska included ventures such as fishing, touring islands on ATV's, shopping, and whale watching to name just a few.  My favorite activity by far was the day I went on a four hour hike along the Indian River Trail.  The temperature was nippy that day and the air smelled clean and fresh.  While we hiked through the forest, crossing log bridges as we went, we could hear the sound of the river rippling by.  Although the hike was strenuous at times and certainly got my heart rate up, it was very relaxing and just what my body needed.
The path snaked back and forth as we wound our way through the forest. A waterfall coming off of the mountain was to be our ultimate stopping point.  Every now and then we had to cross slippery moss covered log bridges or rugged wooded stairs.  At times the path was so twisted that we couldn't see what was right around the bend in front of us (each time I was praying that it wouldn't be a brown bear).
All of our twisting, turning, and climbing reminded me of one of  my favorite promises in HIS word-the promise that HE will direct my path.  "God arms me with strength; He has made my way safe...You have made a wide path for my feet to keep me from slipping." Psalm 18:32,36  (NLT) 
Just like the hike I took in Alaska that was full of twists, turns, and climbs; so too is the "hike" I take through my life.  My path will not always be easy and I may not see what's around the next bend, but I can be assured that He will protect me and keep me from slipping. I can pray the same prayer that King David spoke "Lead me in the right path, O LORD...tell me clearly what to do and show me which way to turn." Psalm 5:8 and I know that He will. 
I need not fear about my steps as I maneuver through this life.  I can be sure and walk with confidence because His word declares that " the LORD watches over the path of the godly but the path of the wicked leads to destruction." Psalm 1:6
Time ran out for us, so we never made it to the waterfall on the day of my hike.  However, I won't soon forget the hours I spent in those Alaskan woods. They were some of the best hours I spent on my trip and worth every sore muscle and blister that I got the next day. :)

"My steps have stayed on Your path; I have not eavered from following You." Psalm 17:5

Fear of the Unknown

I was looking through one of my scrapbook albums recently and I came across pictures I had taken on a vacation. A couple of years ago our family took a ski trip to Copper Mountain, Colorado.  This was me and my children's first ski trip.  My husband,who grew up skiing, was anxious to get our sons on the slopes for their first skiing adventure.
Thanks to many years spent balancing on hockey skates, the kids took to skiing in no time flat  (I think the "no fear" attitude that comes with youth had something to do with it too). They loved skiing so much that we had to practically drag the kids off of the slopes at the end of each day.
I, on the other hand, couldn't get off the slopes and into my snow boots fast enough.  I could handle the bunny slopes just fine; maybe even a green course or two, but anything steeper and I was "toast".  
Allow me to explain.  I have several minor phobias. Small tight spaces make it hard for me to breathe, snakes and rodents can make me scream and run for the hills, but it's a fear of heights that can do me in completely. 
I was  gung-ho the first day while skiing the fairly easy green hills.  "I can do this," I'd say to myself.  "Everyone skis- why shouldn't I," I'd think to myself.  All of those positive comments quickly vanished by the time I decided to try my first blue hill with my husband and kids.  "Come on, Mom, you'll do great," my kids encouraged me (I think pressured me would be a better word).
By the time we got off the skilift I thought my heart was going to beat right out of my chest.  One by one, my kids took off down the mountain.  My husband stayed by my side and began coaching me down.  I'd go a little way and stop,then go a little further and stop again.  What was the hold up?  
With each little hill I'd come to, I couldn't see what was beyond.  I couldn't see what was over the next rise.  I imagined a huge dropoff or some other danger awaiting me. So, after awhile, I sat down in the snow and burst into tears (which quickly froze on my eyelashes). The fear of the unknown had completely paralyzed me and I refused to ski any further.  My husband tried to talk me through my fear saying things like "you'll be fine", "there's nothing over the hill that will  hurt you", "I'll be right beside you."  Nothing he said would help, and, much to his dismay, I took off my skis and proceeded to walk down the mountain. By the time I made it to the bottom of the mountain I vowed to never ski again in my life. 
My kids enjoy reminding me about my skiing "adventure" every now and then.  "Mom, remember the time when you walked down the mountain because you were afraid?" "Remember when you thought you were going ot fall over the edge?" and on and on they go.
I can look back on that trip and laugh now.  I must have looked pretty funny walking down the mountain with my skis in my arms and mascara frozen on my cheeks.
Just like HE does quite often, the Lord taught me a lesson through that situation.
How often do the unknowns in life paralyze me with fear?  How often do I refuse to go any further because I can't see what's on the other side?  How often do I take my "skis off" and take the easy way out of situations instead of working through them?
What if one of my kids or husband gets in an accident? What if our company goes under? What if me or one of my loved ones gets cancer? What if? What if? What if?  All are unknowns. 
It's time for me to trust Him.  He has everything under control.  Nothing catches Him by surprise.  He knows the beginning from the end and all that comes in between.  Just because I can't see the outcome of something doesn't mean He can't.  If something negative happens, then I must trust that "it" passed through His fingers first and He has allowed it.  He was right there beside me up on that mountain and He is right beside me here in my daily life.  He is with me wherever I go.

"Have not I commanded you? Be strong, vigorous, and very courageous. Be not afraid, neither be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go." (Joshua 1:9 Amplified Bible)

Letting Go

There are a goose and gander that have made our lake their swimming pool. My husband thinks that they're an annoyance, but I think they're wonderful (their messy droppings can be pretty disgusting though). With their necks arched in such a pretty way they look dignified as they swim from one end of our lake to the other.

Just this past month they've added a few new members to their family-four goslings. Mother and father accompany their babies all around the lake now. I like to think that they're giving them swimming lessons, but in reality, goslings know how to swim the minute they're born.

As the summer rolls along these goslings will begin to look more and more like a mature goose. They'll begin losing their fuzzy downy feathers and begin growing flight feathers. One day in the fall, they'll be on their own and flying south for the winter. This cycle of infancy to maturity is all a part of nature.

Since these new additions have arrived I've noticed that the geese have become quite territorial. I dare not go near their babies for fear that they'll attack. Mother and father goose will raise quite a ruckus if I come within twenty yards of their precious little birds. It seems as if they'll protect them at all cost.

I suppose...no, I know that I'm like them. The minute I delivered each of my babies I had a "don't you mess with my precious kid" attitude. The Mama Bear came out in me in an instant, and to this day, shows no sign of leaving. The thought of someone doing harm to my children either physically, mentally, or through words breaks my heart. Just like the geese on our lake, I want to protect my kids at all cost.

I know that sooner or later I'll need to release my protective grip on my kids and let them experience life on their own. I can't always be there to protect them from harm. The cycle of infancy to maturity is inevitable and all a part of life. My boys are maturing right before my eyes and one day they will be young men going off to experience life in high school, college, and what lays beyond.

When that happens I need not fear. I know that this is part of life's plan-part of His plan. I can rest knowing that there will be (and has alway been) Someone there to watch over them.

"The LORD Himself watches over you! The LORD stands beside you as a protective shade. The sun will not hurt you by day, nor the moon at night. The LORD keeps you from all evil and preserves your life. The LORD keeps watch over you as you come and go, both now and forever." ~Psalm 121:5-8

Please watch this cute video below....its about ducks and not geese, but it goes along with the idea of us mothers protecting our young.

The Master Gardener

Yesterday my son Jacob and I planted sunflower seeds in the field near our cabin. We planted seeds that will produce giant sunflowers that can grow up to 8 feet in height. At maturity,the face (the seeds) and petals get so big that they're almost the size of a paperplate. I love these majestic looking flowers. Late this summer into the early fall, they'll stand at attention, far above the other flowers that I've planted in the field.

Before we planted the seeds, we went off in search of the perfect spot for them. A spot that was not too rocky and that would get plenty of sunshine since these flowers thrive in the open sun. Once we found just the right spot, I dug the holes and Jacob put a seed in each of them and covered them with soil. He gave them some water and our job was done.

I can't wait to see those flowers all abloom this fall. Until I do, I'll have to make sure that they are taken care of. If our summers are as dry as they usually are, I'll have to make sure that they get plenty of water from my watercan. I'll also have to make sure that the plants aren't overtaken by weeds. That's about all I can do-the rest will be up to good ole' Mother Nature.

Thinking about these sunflowers makes me think about my children. I consider them "seeds" that my husband and I have planted. We have a responsibilty to make sure that they are well taken care of. We'll need to give them plenty of water (love, correction, Biblical teaching, validation, prayer, encouragement, etc). We'll also need to make sure the "weeds" of this world don't overtake them (peer pressure, compromising of beliefs, etc). That's about all we can do-the rest will be up to Him.

I can only see what's going on with my plants above the ground. I don't know what is going on down deep in the soil underneath. The same is true with my children. I can only see what is going on with my children on a surface level. He knows what is going on deep inside of each of them and, I can rest assured, He has everything under control.

So, I'll keep on watering, weeding, and tending my plants and trusting the Master Gardener.

"My job was to plant the seed in your hearts, and Apollos watered it, but it was God, not we, who made it grow." ~1 Cor 3:6

HE Believes In Me

"God divinely appointed you as your child's parent." I heard this statement on a radio show as I was driving my kids to hockey practice yesterday. Such a simple statement, but one that really "packs a punch". The timing for me to hear it was perfect. I wouldn't put it past Him if He arranged for me to have my radio on at just the right time and just the right station. He does things like that....:)


I've been feeling a bit overwhelmed lately. This mothering job I have to two teenagers and one preteenager is all new to me and I've yet to find a self-help manual that tells me just how to do it. How do I stay patient with them when wrestling takes up three-fourths of their day?


What do I do when I hear them call each other "idiot" or "stupid" for what seems like the hundreth time? How do I handle the teasing and bad language that they tell me goes on in the locker rooms? When do I step in and give my opinion and when do I let them handle problems on their own? My list of "how's", "what's", and "when's" could go on and on.


Hearing the statement on the radio made me realize that since He devinely appointed me as their mom, then He must believe that I can do this "mothering thing". He must have already known that I would make mistakes, that I would come up short,that I would have some victories and plenty of defeats. Despite all of this, He considered me worthy enough to entrust my boys to me for a season.


Entrust. I looked this word up in the dictionary and here's what it said:"to charge or invest with a trust or reponsibility". There is no one who has a higher authority than Him and if my Heavenly Father has invested a trust in me, then I know I can do this thing! If He believes in me (and He does), then that's all I need to know.


BTW, there are no perfect parenting self-help books out there (believe me-I've looked), but there is one perfect Book available for anything I will encounter. It's called the Bible.





"Pour out your heart like water before the face of the Lord. Lift your hands toward him for the life of your young children." ~Lamentations 2:19

A Lesson From My Dogs

Mornings are my favorite time of the day. I'll wake up very early while the house is quiet to meet one-on-one with my Heavenly Father. No one in the house is awake yet to distract me. I need this time....I crave this time...I prioritize this time. This is the time when He redirects my thoughts, when He corrects me, when He encourages me, when He gives me peace, when He gives me His plans for me for that day...you get the picture.

This morning my two dogs,Patrick and Spooky, taught me a lesson. Every morning they follow me throughout the house. They are right there at my heels while I brush my teeth, take my vitamins, and make my coffee among other things. They eventually follow me into my library or out to my deck where they sit at my feet, sigh contentedly and wait expectantly for my next move. This got me thinking. How often do I follow my Father around in the ordinary events of the day? How often do I sit at His feet and just wait? How often am I satisfied in just Him?

I'd like to say that my answer to each of these questions is 100% of the time, but I'd be lying. Thankfully, He is patient with me. He gives me do-overs constantly. He knows where my heart wants to be. He sees my life from the beginning to the end and all the days in between . I am a work in progress. :)

"Satisfy us in the morning with Your unfailing love, so we may sing for joy to the end of our lives." ~Psalm 90:14