Can You Stop And Turn? Do You Have What It Takes?

It's the 28th. 

 Sunday. 

14 months.

Months, days, weeks, moments of missing. 

Days of seeking who God is; who am I in Him. 

I wake again today to the fight to get up. 

My soul is heavy. 

I cry out to Jesus. 

I just want to burrow in. 

Sleep some more. 

My heart;

Needs to change

There was a double sleep over last night. 

Church to attend, a rehearsal for a performance. 

And it leaves me with tears pooling and a heart constricting. 

There is no milk.

The keys to the van are missing. 

The other car is not working right. 

I need to make breakfast.

We have places to be. 

And all I want to do is be quiet. 

Run. Hide. 

I had planned a fun day to be away from the farm. 

To be together with family and friends. 

It seems to be unraveling. 

And my response is tense and harsh. 

The hot, churning within. 

These are the moments when we need to seek the holy. 

Not when we're all dressed and looking pretty. 

Now; in the dirt and grim; in the hot and churning. 

With tears pooling and words spewing. 

It is in these moments when we remove our gaze from the circumstances. 

We're so entrenched in the war we can not see the victory beyond. 

Even in the turmoil and grit, we can seek the holy. 

It's when we should seek. 

A walk with Christ is not when you're perfect and without sin; when all is going well. 

It's for the sinners and the downcast. 

For the lost and seeking. 

The broken and hurting. 

We are a people in need. 

When I was a little girl I loved to read. 

I would easily get lost in a book. 

I wouldn't hear my mother's call. 

The world around me faded. 

The characters; real.

The adventures; mine

In my closet I created a space with a pillow and a blanket. 

A flashlight. A journal and a pen (just in case I needed to write)

There I would sit for hours reading by flashlight. 

Undisturbed.

Content. 

Today I long for that quiet space; with pillows all around. 

The safety and holy.

The world is tipped on edge for me. 

And if I am not careful I will tip too. 

The chaos will not go away. 

Life begats life. 

And there is still much life. 

I turn to meet this attack boldly. 

I will face the chaos head on. 

I will look the pain in the eye. 

These circumstances will not change. 

But my response can. 

This is the work it takes. 

Isaiah 40:29

He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak.

We need to consciously turn toward what God has for us. 

Websters definition ~

  turn-to cause (something or a side of something) to face an opposite or different direction

Psalm 119:57-64

I have considered my ways and have turned my steps to your statutes. 

I will hasten and not delay to obey your commands. 

Make an about face today. 

Take the time to turn. 

The breathtaking landscape around us is turning. 

It is shedding the old for the new; hope in Spring. 

We too can shed all that holds us. 

All that brings us down. 

Repent. 

Lay it all at the foot of the cross. 

And turn toward new life, new hope. 

In Christ. 

The struggle will end. 

It may not be this side of eternity. 

But we can meet the holy here. 

We can be filled and strengthened for the work that still needs to be done. 

We just need to turn. 

10th Avenue North. 

 Worn

This Road is Hard, and Long

Psalm 13

How long wilt thou forget me, O Lord? for ever? 

how long wilt thou hide thy face from me?

 How long shall I take counsel in my soul, 

having sorrow in my heart daily? 

how long shall mine enemy be exalted over me?

 Consider and hear me, O Lord my God: lighten mine eyes,

 lest I sleep the sleep of death;

Lest mine enemy say, I have prevailed against him; 

and those that trouble me rejoice when I am moved.

 But I have trusted in thy mercy; 

my heart shall rejoice in thy salvation.

I will sing unto the Lord, because he hath dealt bountifully with me.

I listen to a song, "shall I take from your hand the blessing, yet not welcome anything; shall I love you in times of plenty then leave you in days of drought. . .Let your will be done in me; in your love I will abide, Oh I long for nothing else as long as you are glorified."

So quiet my restless my heart. . in you. . .

The days are growing shorter. The dark comes quickly.

Daylight hours are precious and few.

There is still much to do to ready for winter. 

Many things demand our time and pull us toward the urgent. 

Yet our hearts ache and our steps are slow. 

This new journey doesn't fit well.

We weren't meant for death. 

We were meant for life.

And so all within us groans and tries to fight off the pain. 

We seek God's face.

We plead with him for grace.

We plead with him for strength for this journey.

My farmer works on the fence that he and his boy worked on together.
The pain searing like a knife.
Unexpected.
Death, the enemy, has taken his son, his friend.
And in the evening, with hushed voices,
 we talk of this ache and the purpose God has in our lives.
And how we are going to live with this factured family and
without our Lijy.

I delve into a new book. Desparately trying to use the mind that feels so foggy.

I balance check books, and agonize over 50 cents to get it "right." Something that is concrete. 

It can't be wrong. Numbers are constant. 

And so I find the error. 

Success. 

It is these little areas that I feel some control. 

Shortly after Elijah went to be with Jesus, a friend gave me a cd.

Come Weary Saints by Sovereign Music.

It is healing balm to my soul. 

I listen as I write.

I listen as I cry out to Jesus to please take this cup from me. . .yet not my will but thine. 

And I am reminded. 

We need to thank him for the struggle, for the fire.

And for the strength He gives.

For everyday.
God is still God even in the darkest night. 

I can not do this journey on my own. 

I hide in my Father's arms.

Because I am weak. 

And I long for things to be different. 

So, I turn and give thanks. 

I Count my 1,000 Gifts:

• Blue eyes that haunt my memory
• dimples
• lopsided grins as he turned and said goodbye, that one last time
• Friends
• Hugs
• Needlepoint at the backdoor remembering my red head
• Notes and cards with memories written in love
• College visits and a friend that comes with me to hold my hand
• Steps away from the accident leading closer to our home going
• The deep love of Jesus
• Daughters that love each other 
• A son that is trying to find his way with out his older brother
• A God that fiercely loves us and won't let go
• Friends who bring dinner when I am a weeping mess
• A doctor who still makes house calls and listens to all our fears and worries
• A husband that works so hard to provide for our family and never complains. . .ever

Deutoronomy 31:6

Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, 

for the Lord your God goes with you; 

he will never leave you nor forsake you.”

There is A Season

One of Gary's Uncles drops off an article he has had since 1974.

It is an article about Gary and the farm. 

I sit and read this old news. 

Gary is 18.

The age our son never saw. 

Funny how pieces of the past draw you in. 

Popovers and Oatmeal for breakfast this morning.

Elijah did not like popovers. 

I can't remember how he felt about oatmeal. 

I always had to ask the kids to remind me what they liked. 

I walk out of the bedroom.

It is warm.

We have heat in the house.

Such little things.

Yet so important.

I listen to the messages on the phone. 

I decide to listen to the saved messages. 

The first, is mom.

I sigh when I hear her voice. 

She was just checking in. 

Now, she resides with the King of Kings. 

The next is the message from the State Trooper's dispatch asking us to go to the door. 

There was a State Trooper waiting to talk with us the night of the accident. 

The power had gone out so the phone never rang. 

These 2 messages side by side. Representing time gone by. 

The past.

I am not sure what the future holds.

 Sometimes I do not want to know.

 I am not sure I can take anymore. 

Yet, I do not want to miss the path God has prepared for me. 

Jeremiah 29:11

 For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, 

“plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.

I do not want to miss the grandchild soon to arrive. 

So, while my heart is heavy.

I turn. . . 

Psalm 119:59

I have considered my ways and have turned my steps to your statutes.

I turn the oven on and make popovers.

I turn the stove on and cook oatmeal.

I turn the pages of my bible to seek the only counsel my heart needs to hear. 

I turn the volume up on my phone to make sure I hear a phone call if Lilah is starting her journey. 

Ecclesiastes 3 

To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:

 A time to be born, and a time to die. . .A time to weep, and a time to laugh;

 a time to mourn, and a time to dance;

What ever season you may be in, may you turn to the comfort of the word.

May you turn, to the arms that will never let you go.