Birthday

This was written to my dad on January 1st, 2014. He died on December 4th, 2013.

Dear Dad,
Today is your 77th birthday. While I know you're outside of time now, I'm still in it and so I am wishing you a very happy birthday. I thought about you at midnight. I remember you telling me how your mom would always call at 12:01 AM so that she would be the first one to wish you a happy birthday. I know how it would irritate you. But you'd laugh at the memory.
I wish you were here. I know you'd be in your room. You would have just finished eating the creamed crab on toast you wanted me to make for your birthday this year. I also know you'd come out to the kitchen in an hour or so and ask me when I was going to start your birthday dinner of ciappiano. And then you'd let me know that you want to have a hand in making it, meaning you wanted to come out and boss me around. I loved being bossed around by you, even though we'd butt heads sometimes. When you'd bow out of the head butting session, I'd feel so bad, I'd let you win anyway. But you knew it. I could never best you in mental games. Ever. You'd let me think I did, but we both knew better. I could always see the amusement in your eyes when I'd get irritated. Mostly irritated that I fell once again, sucker to your verbal prods and pokes. But, you left me a smarter, more tolerant person.

Thank you for teaching me how to preserve my own ideas and beliefs while listening to someone air theirs. You taught me how make a difference in someones day by just listening to them. I know that listening and smiling and finding positive things in what someone is sharing with me, even though I disagree, makes them happy and feel valued and how that is more important than sharing my opinions on what I think of their ideas.
You always listened to me. You always made me feel so valuable to you, to the world around me. You always told me I was beautiful when I seldom felt beautiful. You told me I was a great mom, after I cried over my kids, feeling like a failure. You told me many times, what a great daughter I was when I was so overwhelmed with the duties I had before me. But I learned. I learned to tell you the same thing. I started saying "I'm a great daughter because I have a great dad" and "You're an amazing dad to put up with a daughter like me". And then YOU had nothing to say! That was so fun!!! Thank you for teaching me so much.
I miss you, dad. But I feel strangely calm and peaceful today. Maybe you've asked God to give me a gift on your birthday. It would be like you. You're so selfless. Anyway, I've been blessed today on your birthday to be held in a beautiful pocket of peace and tranquility.
Happy birthday to the most amazing man I've ever met in my life.
I love you dad.
You are forever young.
Love, your daughter, Lonna

Abandoned?

Mom physically left me on August 23rd, 2009. It's odd that I write that because I've struggled with abandonment issues all my life. I'm sure it started when I was about 6 months old and my birth parents made a decision to give me up for adoption. It was furthered compounded by being adopted by a single mother (I think she was the first single woman in Oregon to adopt a child... part of what makes her so amazing) who had to work full time. I can remember missing her and being scared she'd never come back, but she did time after time. She smelled like cookies! (she worked at Nabisco). When she moved me to Kenya with her, I attended boarding school and so at 7 years old I watched her drive away not thinking I'd ever see her again. I did see her, after 3 months. (The school was 3 months at school, one month vacation). Throughout the years, as I grew older, had my own kids, etc, I no longer feared being abandoned by her. In 2007 after serious prayer, consideration and counsel, my dad, my husband and myself made the decision to allow mom to live in the safety of a Memory Care facility. She had Alzheimer's and we could no longer safely manage her care. I'll never forget the horrible day I moved all her things into her room. My dad dropped her off and I stayed to see her settled in. After looking around and claiming she'd been there before, I showed her the large social area where there was a TV. The TV was on, it was set to channel 12. It was just after the noon hour and like it's done for many, many years, KPTV, was showing one of mom's favorite shows, "Perry Mason". Her eyes lit up when she saw it was on and she made herself comfortable in a recliner. I hugged her and told her I'd be back soon. For the first time in my life I felt what it was like from her side. What she must have felt so many times during the years when she had to leave me. I felt like I was abandoning her. It cut me like a knife and after hugging her I hurried out, the tears spilling from my eyes and flowing down my cheeks even before I made it to the van. I sat there, not able to process it all, just letting the tears do what they do so well. In His mercy, when God took her home, I didn't feel as though she was abandoning me. And because 2 weeks before she died, I had given her permission to go, I don't think she felt as though she was abandoning me either. We were just saying "see you later". So today, I'm thankful for my mom, her strength, her influence, her legacy and mostly the lessons I learned from her just by being her daughter and watching her. Thanks, Mom. See you later.

Thoughts

Joyful in hope
Patient in affliction
Pray always.

Being joyful in hope most likely leads to being patient in the affliction because you're aware of the hope and you live in Joy. Praying always makes all this possible. I was thinking about the term "leap of faith". I don't think there is such a thing. I think there are steps of faith that must be taken, lived out every day. You never see anyone sitting around for years and then one day run a marathon. They take steps.. first around the block, then 2, then 1/2 mile, then a mile then 2 and so on until they are running 26 miles. That's the way it is with faith. With patience. Patience in affliction is arrived at by being patient in the grocery line, at the stop light, while waiting for the train to do its 15 minute back and forth dance on the tracks. If I can't be patient for the little things, how the heck do I expect to be patient when real affliction comes along? It's all interactive too; faith comes by hearing, hearing what? Hearing the word of God. And I can't hear the word of God unless I open my Bible and let Him talk to me.

Take a baby step of faith today. Not in what you can do, but what God has done for you. Chill and relax. Bask in His care. Nothing you can do anyway about what can't be done. May as well hang out and worship and enjoy the green pastures and still waters the Shepherd is always leading you (and me) to.
By faith today I will follow him and stop hindering the journey by stopping to rummage through the bags of garbage in my mind.
I have to laugh (somewhat sadly at times) at myself.... here I am skipping along behind Him and then... He turns around and there I am with the dirt of hurtful memories, regrets, resentment all over my hands as I'm digging through the crap. But He's so kind, and as a result of His kindness, I'm learning to leave my rummaging and get back on the path quicker. In fact, sometimes I even skip past the garbage bags!!! The war is not over until I go Home, but it's already been won and today I fight from victory , not for it.

Father

Father.

What comes to mind when you hear, read or say that word? Having grown up without a father or dad until I was 15, I didn't really have any ideas about what having a father was. I know I wanted one. Everyone else had one and I always felt like the outsider looking in on a cozy scene. The only human adult males in my early childhood were my uncles. I have great memories of most of them but not so great memories of one particular one who I was around the most. If that was what having a father was, no thank you! For those of you with great dads, you probably can't relate.
I've been thinking about the prayers that Jesus prayed in the Bible. I have a craving to read His words to and about His Father, who He instructed us to call "our" Father. But if your only memories of a father are bad ones, that can be challenging to think of God as a "loving" "kind" "compassionate" father.
I think the only way to think of Him as our Father is to allow Him by His spirit to heal us and to allow Him to show us just what kind of Father He is through His word and by faith IN His word. Sometimes it comes down to blind trust. Following though we can't see and it doesn't make sense. Reaching out in the snow storm and finding the line that leads us to safety. It's scary but it's worthwhile. He, unlike our earthly fathers, will NEVER leave us, He always thinks kindly towards us. He's slow to anger. He forgives readily and repeatedly and never holds our nose to our past mistakes. He is compassionate. He never shames us. He loves us unconditionally and completely. I think His father heart is broken repeatedly as He watches us hurt and struggle under some of the men we call "father" or "dad". And He longs to show us just what a father is.
What comes to your mind when you hear the word "father". How do you see God as your father? What kind of memories are you giving your kids as their parent; father or mother?
For the record, my mom was as tough as a man and could beat anybody's dad up. So, I did have that fine example!

I posted this on Facebook on December 4th, 2013 at 8:20 in the morning. My dad was in the hospital and was coming home that day. He did come home, but not to our house. About 4 1/2  hours after I posted this my dad, Patrick died of a pulmonary embolism. It was unexpected and it took my breath away for a long time. I love that God put father hood so strongly on my mind the day I lost my earthly father. 

Pain

I struggle with upper back pain. It's a common ailment among those of us who tend to carry our stresses there. Yesterday afternoon, without warning the pain became quite excruciating.
I need to get a massage, but finances aren't so liberal anymore so I beg back rubs from my husband and use a Thera Cane as well as electric back massager. Normally all these techniques help but not last night. I was dreading going to bed because I knew sleep would be rough. Not sleeping through the night has been added to the increasing list of changes that are happening "because I'm getting older". Quite an adventure!

I fell asleep but sure enough, woke up about 2:00 AM, in pain. I wanted to cry but instead began to pray. I told God I know He is the healer, one of His names is Jehovah Rapha; the God that heals. So I appealed to His healing character.  As I wrestled with trying to pray while in pain I asked Him if there is a good reason for me to be in pain, could He please show me, if not, could He please heal me? He replied twice. He first asked if I believed He could heal me? I wanted to shout YES but I whispered it out loud so as not to scare my sleeping husband. Then the Lord asked me "Do you trust Me?"  Again, my response was quick and whispered; YES! I'm thinking I passed all the questions.. I'm on the fast track to a miracle now.  And then He asked me a third question. Really? Another question? But this one was unexpected. "If I don't heal you will you worship me from your pain?"  That question distracted me so much I forgot my pain for a moment. But I answered, "of course I will worship you." I immediately thought of Job 13:15 "Though He slay me, I will hope in Him; yet I will argue my ways to His face." Fortunately I forgot the 2nd half of that verse but I did quote the first half to Him. Though You slay me, I will hope in You. And then, I did go on to argue a bit with Him. I finally settled for a compromise; "do what You will, if You let me get some sleep, I will proclaim my love for You every time pain shoots through my back". He did grant me sleep and some relief and I did worship Him every time the pain shot through me. It did remind me of a game of Uncle... twist until you cry uncle. Hurt until you praise Me. But it wasn't.  It was and is a time of learning.

My Sacred Yes

There is a lot of guilt attached to the word "no". We are taught early on; "no, thank you" and "Yes, please".  But from early on the no is no good. No... candy. No... staying up late. No.... extra cookie. And if you're naughty... "no dessert" or whatever it is you want. There's conditions to the Yes. Yes, you may.. but first you have to do.... or else it's no. Crazy, isn't it?

When I was 12, I spent the weekend at the house of a couple who were major monetary supporters of my mom and I. We were home on furlough for one year and we spent much of that year visiting our supporters and friends. The husband unit of this couple wanted me to sit on his lap and his wife backed him up. "Go on, honey, sit on Uncle Ron's lap". Honestly? I was 12.. far beyond sitting on anyone's lap. But I did. And it was horribly uncomfortable. He had ill intentions.  When I got home, my mom says, "Aunt Lora said you were horrible to Uncle Ron and were rude to him". She didn't hear my explanation and so I was whipped for that "no". It wasn't the only "no" I was punished for. 

My "yes" was much easier to give out. It made me popular with the "important" kids. "Yes, you can have my brownie". "Yes, you can borrow my money... ". It made me popular with boys  "Yes, I'll kiss you". "Yes, I'll sleep with you". It made me popular at church; "Yes, I'll work in the nursery, every Sunday". "Yes, I'll teach Royal Rangers ( since no man would step up the position)". It made my husband happy; "Yes, I'll do whatever you want at whatever it cost me". It made me a popular mom. (One of my "yeses" led to my son being jailed... a whole story in itself.. also a great testimony to God's mercy). 

I tied my self-worth to my yes. I threw my yes out there like a lasso... hoping it would capture and rope in some self worth, some popularity, some acceptance.  And then I spent the rest of the time being beaten down by the the very yeses I thought would make my life better. 

And at the end... when I'm bullied, abused, molested, abandoned, a single mom, a married mom, a divorced mom... a tired woman. Neither my yes or my no seemed to matter. 

 I'm learning that it's ok to say "yes". Because there is a sacred yes. There is valuable yes. It's learning to say Yes to Him first, the One who will protect my yes, He, Who does have my best interest at heart. I'm learning to let go of the guilt of the no. The fear of what the no will do to me and my self worth. The lie attached to the no.  I'm even learning there is a sacred No. Because saying a sacred Yes, is also saying a sacred No. 

In the end, my yes is safe because it's not mine to give, it's His.

                                                             

This was inspired by my journey through "Your Sacred Yes" by Susie Larson. 

~Lonna

2nd Best?

                                                                  

2^nd Best? Wrong Turn?

J-E-S-U-S was the first word I remember being able to spell. I've not known a day of not knowing who Christ is. But it took many years to learn how much He knew me and loved me. In fact, I'm still learning. 

The following is one story of how the truth of God changed a lie. 

Many moons ago when I was a young girl of 19, I gave birth to my first child; a little boy. While the event should have been full of joy, excitement and a little fear, it was almost all fear mixed with shame and a tiny bit of  joy. 

 The shame; I wasn’t married. The fear; I’d sinned terribly. The joy; I had my very own little person to love and who would love me (even though I didn't think I deserved the joy). 

 While pregnant with my son, a well meaning friend gave me these words to chew over:  “If you miss God’s best, you’ll have to settle for His 2^nd best”.  The person meant to be encouraging and to be honest, I was encouraged.  At least I was still in the club!

A week after the birth of my son, I developed a rather bad infection. I was lying on the examining table, full of fear and tears. I looked up at my mom who had driven me and the baby to the doctor, and asked her if she thought  this was God’s punishment for my sin? I was holding onto a tiny bit of hope that she would say no, but she affirmed it was. Another weight was added to my already heavy burden. 

So, this is how it was for me; living the 2^nd best plan for my life, being punished for my sins. All of them.

I  spent my life under this fail/punishment cloud, walking the tightrope of my failed attempts at goodness, never quite reaching the other side known as “God’s Best”, knowing at any moment I could, and probably would be flicked away like an annoying gnat.  It would be 13 years of an abusive marriage, 4 more children, a divorce, more shame and utter despair, before I found out the truth. 

I had been lied to. There is no 2^nd Best.

Nothing I do is a surprise to God, nothing catches Him off guard. Nothing I could do or not do would separate me from His love, from His grace, from His salvation, from His compassion. 

Nothing.

No being single

No baby without a daddy.

No horrible infection. 

No marriage

No divorce.

No abuse.

No shame.

No doing something wrong.

No making a mistake.

No wrong thought.

No sin. 

Nothing. 

The only thing I did was take some detours. Unplanned by me, known and made provision for by God. 

Ever taken a trip using your navigation? What happens when you take a wrong turn? She pauses a moment and then says “re-routing” and comes up with a new way to get to where you were going. May tack on a few minutes and take you through a scary part of town, but you’ll get there. 

So do you think the Creator is stymied when we take a wrong turn? Shocked that we left the route He was guiding us on? Nope. He re-routes us. It may take us through some places we would have avoided had we stayed with Him and not been distracted with a “better idea” or a “way someone told me about”.  But He stays with us. Every step of the way. And to be honest, what could be better than His presence? His companionship? And He won’t waste the detour, He’ll teach us, point out why this probably wasn’t the best way to go, but reassures us that it will be ok. He even points out some pretty things along this unplanned route. Because everything is beautiful with Him. Even our mistakes.  He’s with us all the time. We have His word;  He’s promised to never leave us or forsake us.

Psalm 139: 7-10: “Is there anyplace I can go to avoid Your Spirit? To be out of Your sight? If I ascend to heaven, You are there! If I make my bed in Sheol (the underworld of the dead and the personification of the evil it represents—yep, been there), You are there!  If I take the wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, even there Your Hand shall lead me, and Your right Hand shall hold me”. (parentheses and bold, mine).

He is at places we didn’t even know we were going to be at, ready to lead us and always holding us close to Himself with His right hand, which represents a position of closeness. 

                                                                      

It is this constant love, this constant friendship, this inescapable love He has for us that compels us to draw closer. To wait and listen. To trust in all that He is, all that He has been, and all that He will be. All of His promises are current  every moment of every day.

OH, and the sin I was being punished for?  I wasn’t. I never was. That was another lie.  There was only One punished for my sin and His forgiveness is always mine for the asking... and receiving. I always live in His mercy, hidden in the righteousness of Christ. 

There is only the Best. And it was mine all the time It is yours all the time. It is ours all the time.