the lesson of the gulf

So a few weeks ago, I told my husband that I wanted to do something adventurous and take our sons camping in Gulf Shores. We had never taken the boys camping. This school year was so difficult personally and professionally. I wanted something exciting and out of the ordinary.

Saturday before the trip found us replacing two tires on our van. We were able to get tires on a Saturday but that incident derailed a lot of other little details... I fought off a panic attack. My panic attacks hurt physically and wipe me out pretty good so fighting it off was a job. Also not planned.

Sunday night dissolved into managing children's behaviors while Heath worked so nothing got packed. NOT IN THE PLANS, y'all.

Monday a.m. we woke, I got a pot of coffee in me, we threw some stuff in the van and hit the road.

The first thing we see at the campsite was a sign that said "do not feed the alligators." That stopped us in our tracks. We had a serious discussion before we got the boys out of the van. But we decided if we were gonna be adventurers we had to go all in. So we did.

Nothing went as planned. I don't know why I am so surprised when things don't go as I plan them. NOTHING goes as planned. EVER. But we really did just roll with the punches. I started thinking of this whole trip as an adventure and to start expecting the unexpected.

But a moment at The Gulf gave me pause.

The Gulf is my favorite restaurant in Orange Beach. It's an outdoor place sitting on the water and just beautiful to me. The sun was shining as we walked up. I took a deep breath in and out and smiled. We ordered our food and sat down. The boys were behaving, my handsome husband was with me, there was a nice breeze.... everything was just amazing.

Then the first pat of rain became a drum beat and the rain started coming in sideways. Thunder, lightening, wind gusts... we retreated closer to the building under the awning. I smiled a weak smile to Heath. We settled in for the rain. An employee asked if we wanted the food to go... I said we were going to eat it there ... I was determined to spend some time in my favorite spot! Even in the rain.

I started to pray a prayer with a familiar cadence: "Hey, God, uhm, remember yesterday when I prayed for no more rain? Uh why is the exact opposite of my prayers always seem to be happening?!"

My eyes caught a boat fighting to come in off the water. Everything felt so chaotic. The rain and wind was kicking up an awful noise. I could barely see the water with the rain coming down. People were rushing and fussing near us. The sky was dark and gray. The clouds were like pulled out cotton balls that had found themselves in the hands of a chubby two year old.

I glanced to my boys who were uncharacteristically calm. I glanced back to the water. I watched the waves...
... there was a pattern there... there was a rhythm. The rain banging on the tin roof was actually pounding out a melody. The wind added in the harmony. And I realized in that moment that what I perceive as chaos is actually very controlled in God's hands. I was witnessing His creation first hand and how it was responding to His voice. Not one wave rolled without being told to do so. Not one gust was wind blew two inches in the other way. Every rain drop landed right where it was mean to.

It was scary and unsettling... but that was because I wanted to control the weather in that moment. Because in my head, rain would ruin my lunch at my favorite restaurant.
But the vision of this moment... seeing each component individually stripped of the rest... I saw God's hand.... I imagined God at that moment with hair like Bob Ross and a large paintbrush asking me to be patient as He painted this moment for me to know that what I see as chaos and unfavorable conditions is His art.

So it is with the circumstances I am facing.... at home.... at work.... at Walmart....

If I truly pray the prayer that never fails, there will be peace and fulfillment of His promises in this chaos.

So I prayed the prayers that never fails... I asked the Lord to continue to help me to see the beauty in the storms of my life and to love me anyway.

The rain stopped before our food was ready. We wiped down the tables and I ate an amazing meal.

Before we left, we were able to have a picture made as a family of five. That's a big deal for us.

So: God's got this.

What's the prayer that never fails, you ask? "Thy will be done."

the role of a lifetime

here’s life: I went to a new track tonight to walk. Hank was with us - I told Heath to go ahead of us so he could get a good walk in - I figured Hank and I could enjoy exploring a new spot. Heath soon became a distant figure ahead. Hank started to become slower so I picked up Hank and carried him for as long as I could carry him. My pace became not much more than a crawl. But I dug my heels in and carried his little 40 pound self up a hill and around a curve.
I passed a lady. She was a hard working woman. Her workout clothes were old and worn out. And she was working hard to put some past behind her. We saw each other from afar. As we passed, she offered me a nod and a slight smile as if to say I remember those days...
Hank and I plodded along.
We soon passed a pair of ladies- carefully manicured and pedicured, expensive jewelry, hair and make up carefully in place... I offered a weak smile- they seemed appalled to see me carrying my kid... at my labored pace... at my deliberate breathing... but they don’t know my story... and I could read theirs in the 3 seconds that we shared air space... they were too afraid of losing everything to enjoy the way the light spilled over the pine trees and the smell of freshly cut grass...
too scared of the struggle... to know the glory...
After that I alternated carrying Hank and having him walk beside me... which he did... without running away...
I thought about the two encounters and how that’s just how life is... everyone is so worried about being left behind - left out - fall short - but this. this is MY story. This role is the one the Lord wrote with ME for the part. So yes I’m gonna struggle up the hill carrying my 5 year old in my arms while others sprint around me... because this is MY path right now.
And I’m gonna remember the faces I pass that offer me a sign of solidarity and encouragement. And I’m gonna pity the women who snide at me because they will never know the glory of accomplishing something after being told “you can’t. you won’t.”
My whole life has been about proving the world wrong. And I’m not gonna stop now.
Heath got to the jeep and doubled back to pick us up. Look for those people too. The people who will double back and pick you up.
No, I can’t move fast right now. I have a little fella who stops and plays with his shadow and analyzes the sunlight streaming through the trees at sunset... and oh how beautiful it was to stop and appreciate God’s creation... and I’m gonna carry him as far as he needs me to... I have people who give me invisable high fives... and Heath will always double back for me. That’s the important stuff that life is made out of.

Saturday

Saturday.

The day after Christ died. My heart is drawn to Mary. His mother. She carried Him for nine months and was not allowed a wedding because of the circumstances. I’ve wondered how she found any joy in motherhood.

“But she understood the purpose!” you say.

Yeah. But it still makes my momma heart hurt for her.

She knew the promise of Sunday.

But did she doubt... even for one second... that she had heard wrong?

I think my reflection on Mary today has made me think maybe I’m in the Saturday season of motherhood. Don’t throw stones just yet. No, I have not buried a son. No, no one is in the hospital (thank God). But I am dealing with a massive plot twist. I thought my life would look so different at this point. And I am doubting myself and His promises. 

Yesterday I was walking up to the school building two hours later than normal because the district delayed start time due to bad weather. My schedule was wrecked. Meetings had to be rescheduled. The bad weather makes my youngest (who has autism and adhd) spin so the morning had been challenging. The doctor’s visit the day before for myself was disappointing. My own health issues keeping me from being the super-mom and super-employee I long to be.

“I can’t do this, Lord” I whispered.

“I’m not asking you to do it, Buffy,” He said, “I want You to let me do it.”

I stumbled in my brisk walk and all my bags banged against me.

“okay,” I said. 
“Thy will be done.”

Well I’ll be honest- not everything worked out like I wanted it to. But I laughed more than I have in a long time. I felt plumb giddy. We had an egg hunt and a kindergarten class let me bum some pizza and I LAUGHED OUT LOUD. 

So Sunday’s comin’.

Saturday looks kinda blah. It’s hard and I’m exhausted. And I’ve messed up more than I can count.

But Sunday’s coming.

I won’t lose hope.

the waiting -or- advent 2018

Advent 2018 is upon us. I’m not feelin’ it this Christmas. I’m just sayin’. There is so much around me tryin’ to get my focus. And I’m exhausted.

This fall found us receiving a diagnosis of ADHD for our youngest child and him attending a special education PK class. So yeah, I work with special needs kids, but it’s been a new experience with my biological child having special needs. I’ve felt all the feelings. And I’ve been grieving some. “But it could be worse,” some of you might say. True. But this is what I’m feeling. And the events of this fall leading up to here have been somewhat traumatic.

So. I just read a devotional from Henri Nouwen about Mary and Elizabeth seeing each other when Mary comes to visit while she’s pregnant with Jesus. And the waiting of pregnancy.

Pregnancy is often referred to when waiting is mentioned in the Bible. I’ve been pregnant four times. Every time I go to the doctor and fill out paperwork, I have to write down that I’ve been pregnant four times and one ended in miscarriage.

As I read that devotional this morning, I thought about my pregnancy experiences. And how I knew within a few weeks that I was pregnant. At around 7 weeks, technology was able to reveal the heart beat and a grainy image of the baby in utero. Around 20 weeks, we have an anatomical scan to rule out problems and discover the baby’s gender. With Hank, the 20 week ultrasound set off so many alarms that never came to pass. Since my first pregnancy ended in miscarriage, the three following pregnancies were anxiety-filled and joy-less.

Thinking about this made me realize something…. The waiting is so hard because the knowledge that comes with our technology makes it difficult to wait…. Because this knowledge makes us feel like maybe we should have some control over the situation… and that makes me not trust in the Lord. [O Lord, help me]

Why is waiting so hard?

Because Facebook tells me that so-and-so’s prayer’s been answered already…. Social media tells me that her son’s doing better than mine is… that they are all winning at life and I’m a loser, baby.

This knowledge (and whether it’s true or not) does to us what Adam and Eve’s eating the fruit in the garden did to them- takes our innocence…. Which takes away our ability to trust the Lord. And if I can’t trust in the Lord, I can’t wait.

So with the new year, this is what I am going to work on…. Not leaning on my own understandings…. Because the Truth is that God is on the other side of all this working it out for our good. And I need to wait.

when God is silent -or- "are you there, God? It's me-Buffy"

have you turned off all the devices in your house lately and just sat in the silence? it’s a little unsettling and it used to not be like that. These days it seems like my phone is dinging every five minutes and there’s another email alert flashing before my eyes and there’s always something to attend to. And I’m not complaining -I’m just stating a fact that the world is loud and noisy. And even now the television is blaring and the dishwasher is running and there’s a cacophony of sounds from my children. Today we have smart phones and social media and we put information out to the world or reach out to somebody and expect an immediate response. And sometimes when we don’t get an immediate response we freak out. 

That’s called classical conditioning when we expect a response for our behaviors. So we are now so conditioned to expecting a response whenever we perform an act or text or post-- we expect a pat on the back for our acts- we expect a "like" on our Facebook posts- we expect some response and when we don’t get that response we feel ghosted --and for me that’s a very real thing - with the events of my life where I’ve been abandoned and trusting in a higher power and a god that’s going to not leave me is already a hard thing. 

So Sunday at Village church my pastor Jonathan Taylor started his sermon series called Silence and we’re working through what it means when God is silent. He referenced John 11 versus 28 through 37 where Lazarus dies and they have the funeral. And Jesus shows up a couple days later and Mary and Martha are responding to his arrival.

so this is my response to the sermon on Sunday — spoiler alert: there’s no place in the Bible that says being a Christian would be unicorns and rainbows there’s no place that says anything would be easy Jesus Himself says that we would have a hard time.

I am no stranger to storms: metaphorical or real - living in the south, just two days ago we experienced hurricane Michael - we (my little family) recently (and in some ways currently) faced a life storm - 

During this time I’ve been Mary rushing Jesus when He seemingly finally shows up at the funeral of her brother Lazarus and she is asking Him: “WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN? why didn’t you come sooner?! you could’ve fix this!! you could still fix this!!!” and I totally get where Mary is coming from. I totally understand that she is tired and scared and worried and grieved. And the first point is that it’s awesome that we are able to talk to God in this way -it’s OK- He’s not scared of our emotions and He’s not scared of our questions....

there’s a developmental milestone called object permanence - it’s the knowledge that something exists even when we can’t see it - it’s kind of funny to watch babies develop this sense... but what if we transferred this idea to God? It’s easy to question God's presence with the world being so much louder than His voice - it’s easy to believe what you see with your physical eyes instead of seeing with your heart and with the knowledge of what the Bible says about Christ. 

so our faith is the evidence of things unseen but I think that maybe  object permanence is an instinct that we need to switch over to our spiritual senses where we might not see God but we know He still there. I’ve had people ask me
 "where is your faith? 
why don’t you trust? 
why are you doubting?"

 well I’m human and I’ve had some bad experiences that would make me doubt and not trust... but if the enemy can get us in a place where we turn so far away from God because we don’t hear Him or sense Him or feel Him ... that’s where the enemy wants us ... that’s where we are defeated when we give up. 

So today I am gonna get outside - I believe that God is still around me even if I can’t “feel” Him.... He is in the wind and the trees and the grass... and I’m gonna walk around without shoes on and feel the grass under my feet... and know the God who holds the universe- holds me too. 

And if He holds me, He holds you.

dream

the pictures from our reunion popped up on facebook this morning

and I spied my Dream mug on the counter...

at christmas I got this Dream mug as a gift and I felt the Lord tell me I needed to dream again. 

I scoffed at the idea but I was intrigued:

the circumstances of my life lead me to believe that I was not worthy to DREAM. Feelings of unworthiness, for me, comes from abandonments and betrayals. I’m even talking about the ghosting that shouldn’t hurt so bad but it does. The people that I pour in to who just throws the drink back in my face. I’d retreated to tend my wounds.

January, February, March: my youngest started exhibiting strange behaviors and we had to shut down to figure out what was going on.

Anyway I struggled to DREAM- and the plans I made seemed so far-fetched! I just knew I wasn’t going to participate- I knew my friends didn’t really want me around and they were simply tolerating me.... on top of those who ghosted and abandoned me! (p.s. these are lies I know but I struggle with self doubt)

And then. last Sunday. I could see the enemy from around the corner of my Jericho... this Jericho was a strong hold in my life- a building that represented rejection and loathing... bitterness coursed through my veins at the ghosts who haunted the halls.... My husband sat next to me in service. Communion was called and after we dunked the bread, he veered towards the alter and kneeled down. I stood beside him. A friend prayed for us and prayed a prophetic prayer to let us know that the Checker Shoe Band dream was not done and by default the secret dreams of my heart. 

And. Jericho. Fell. Down.

As the dust is settling, I see that with all of our diet changes our family is healthier physically and spiritually... I see my emotional reactions being more level and less reactionary.... I feel better in my thought processes.... My sons’ behaviors have normalized...

So now I dream about this weekend with my girlfriends to celebrate our 40 birthdays... I dream about success for my sons at school... I dream of more opportunities for the Checker Shoe Band... I can dream as a child of the God of the Universe who fought Death, Hell and the Grave for me. and for you. 

See the enemy wants us to look at our circumstances and he says to us: well, your life is not optimal... family and friends are sick, you are sick, bad things are happening in the world, your children are misbehaving, your spouse is distant, your bank account is empty, your house is shabby, your cars are subpar... and everyone is looking at you waiting for you to fail.

Well, today, I say, even if those things are true (and they are not), so what? I’ve got to stop worrying about what people think of me and focus on God’s truth of who I am in Him. And the truth of who He is. And recognize the people in my life who truly have my back and let the rest go. 

Keep marching around your Jericho.

Walk.

Run if you can.

Crawl if you must.

And one day you will get the call to stop and shout praises.

And the walls will come down by His mighty hand. 

jericho

jericho

sometimes

you just have to keep

walking

run when you can

walk when you can

crawl when you have to

SHOUT at the wall 

to

   come

            tumbling

                          down

    in His Name 

jericho.

“you ain’t from around here, huh?”

that’s another way to say “you don’t belong.”

I’ve “not belonged” for 18 years now.

I’ve never felt I belonged even in my home town.

until Christ Community invited me to jump in the River

then God told us to move with the plant

it’s not till this moment that God was asking me to let Him plant me

back in the very community that said 

“you ain’t from around here, huh?”

Naw

I ain’t from around here.

I grew up in a trailer park in South Mississippi.

I’m still paying off student loans.

My earthly father rejected me.

every day I realize more and more how much I do not have figured out.

I’ve never been more uncomfortable than I have this past year coming to this particular place. Ichobad? I wanted to leave and not return. Nope: this is my Jericho- my sons’ birth rights. Our Canaan. 

I don’t have it figured out yet. I don’t know what or why or how.

I am Esther.

I am Joshua.

I am Rahab.

Running.

Walking.

Shouting.

Crawling.

Keep on.

He has marched around the hard wall of my heart 

and the walls 

fall

down