A Whole Life

Stretching can be uncomfortable and down right painful if we don't relax into it.

Right now, a friend of mine is being stretched. Sadly, she is fighting it, and it hurts. This morning she found out another thing she wanted is not happening, and she is angry "with the powers that be".

I am not terribly sympathetic.

First of all, I have grown weary of the spoiled brat mentality that the world--and God--is supposed to give us what we want, how we want it, and when we want it. Since when is it about us? I have yet to read anywhere in the Bible where we are promised cushy lives filled with all that makes us happy. On the contrary, Jesus says in this world we'll have trouble, but don't worry because He's overcome the world.  In other words, life won't always be what you want, but He can turn it into what you need! It may feel like hell and leave you on your knees gasping for air, and He's still going to make something amazing out of it. This is not about us having it easy. It's about His being faithful.

My friend said she shouldn't be dealing with the situation she is. My question is simple: why not?

In her circumstnace, she made choices, and this is where those choices have led. This is not something personal against her. It's LIFE.

Life has its moments and seasons that are all warm fuzzy, and life has its seasons that are hard and hellish. BUT, even in those, LIFE flourishes. It all is life, and no one gets out without going through all of the above. Everyone is entitled to love and lose, to rejoice wildly and to hurt like hell.

A good life, a flourishing life is one that embraces all the wonder and the war, the joy and the pain, the hope and the disappointement, and trusts God to do great things even when it isn't what you would have chosen.

And if I sound like I am being unsympathetic, I'm not. I know it is hard, and a person has every right to feel like it is hard, but I don't do the "I don't deserve this" or "this shouldn't be happening to me". There are people dealing with disease, death, war, and prosperity that did nothing to deserve those things.  Life is not about what we deserve. It's about life just being life.

People ask how I can walk through the separation from my husband and my mom's diagnosis of terminal cancer with such joy and excitement for life. It's simple--I choose to. I choose not to play victim, and I choose not to have pity parties. I accept the hard moments, and I accept that I cry and hurt so bad I can't breathe. I also accept that there are amazing people who do kind things every single day, and I refuse to let those kindnesses go unnoticed or unappreciated. I refuse to let the joy of their giving be lost to either them or me. I can choose to wallow in the pain or look up and move forward. I choose to look up and keep moving.

I know our society and even Christianity as a faith teaches that we are entitled to daisies and chocolate. It's a lie. Life is hard. It'll make you so high that you dance wildly and knock you to your knees in the next moment. You can fight it, but it won't stop it. It just makes it impossible to enjoy it.

And if I am going to be on this adventure, I plan to enjoy every second. Why shouldn't I? After all, it's my life.

Yet Another Change in Plans

I did not watch the sun come up this morning as I had expected.  Instead, I slept till 8:00 and was awoke by a text message from a friend when the phone buzzed on my bedside table...and not the one in my camper.

I expected to greet the day with a strange mixture of peace, melancholy, and joy. Instead, I met the day with a deep sigh and the question, "How did life get like this?" 

Last night's happenings don't cross my mind. Next week's do. Unless there is another major change in plans, my mom will come to live with the children and me next weekend.

A list of "to do's" longer than I care to consider resurfaces from last night. Instantly, more is added to it. Plans for next week are quickly factored into the situation. Social activities. Non-negotiable appointments. A writing deadline. Some things will simply have to go. I can't do everything. What is necessary? What is first?

Within seconds a plan is formed. The list is rearranged into an order based on priority and prerequisites. Time estimates are made. A list of resources, including people who can and will help, immediately comes to mind, and I start placing them where I need them and when. A different list of emails and appointment rescheduling is created in my mind, and I ponder the logic of resheduling right now at all. Some planned events are not easily categorized, and I weigh the cost/benefit ratio. They are slipped into "We'll see." A sublist of things that simply need to be nixed is made as well. I simply don't have time for them.

A deep breath. I know what has to be done and how to do it.

Less than two minutes have passed.

I blink at the ceiling and feel the cushion of the mattress under me. This time next week this won't be my room. My bed will be in storage, and my "new normal" will be eradicated yet again. I chuckle as I wonder how many new "new normals" we will go through before this rollercoaster slows to a halt...but then, I'll have bigger emotional concerns than moving back into my then empty bedroom.

Tears don't come this time. I hear a mental door slam. I don't have time to be emotional right now.

I have a job to do.

Six days to get it done.

And time is ticking.

I'll have to enjoy the luxury of my bed...and my emotions...later. Right now, a to do list awaits.

Growing Faith

This morning I was thinking about my garden. It looks pretty puny. We've tried gardens before, and they were flops.

This year I felt like the Lord said to plant a garden because we would get a good harvest from it, so we did. We put in tomatoes, peppers, onions, and a variety of seeds...along with a lot of our money. So far...well, I'm really learning to see with faith on this.

This morning I was so frustrated I wanted to quit, just walk away and give it up to the hot Texas summer. Then the Lord spoke to me, "What about my promise? Do you not believe my promise just because you can't see it?"

Ouch.

So once the sun comes up and before it starts to get too warm, I'll be out there watering again, praying over the okra, corn, tomatoes, peppers, and beans. Sowing into His promise...praying as I go...asking Him to remind me of other promises that the desert sun has assaulted and praying for the faith to believe again for what I do not yet see.