Happy Birthday Logan!

I thank my God every time I remember you. ~ Philippians 1:3 niv


Nineteen years ago today, I was on my way to the hospital.  My first son was about to be born and I was only 5 ½ hours away from holding him in my arms for the very first time.  Ten perfect fingers and ten perfect toes, chubby rosey cheeks, the bluest eyes and a perfect Apgar score of 10.  He was a great baby, a determined toddler, a spirited child and as far as teenagers go...well, he was above average.  I think that most parents of teenagers can agree, if you have more good than bad, then, even though we do, can we really complain?


Over the years, we have had our ups and downs, and by no means am I trying to paint you a picture that there was always a halo and never two sprouted horns above his head.  I had to change out the crib for a toddler bed when he was ten months old because he would climb out of it.  I was terrified that one day he would fall out and break his neck.  When he was 18 months old, he discovered that he could climb to the back of a living room chair and when I would turn around, he would jump.  My heart stopped every time even though he would always, somehow, manage to land on his feet.  Mischief has always abounded.  He has done things that have made me want to bang my head against the wall, but he has also done things that made me so proud I cried tears of joy.  He is someone who I can pray with and laugh with.  He is someone who encourages me when I feel defeated and challenges me with his own opinions and ideas in a discussion.  He is someone who amazes me with his spiritual knowledge, insight and understanding.  I have marveled at words of wisdom and groaned at words uttered at the most inappropriate of times.  I know as a mother, I have often wondered if the decisions I make as a parent are the right ones.  As parents, we often struggle with the decisions we make because we know that the outcome many times can have a ripple effect that invades their future and the obvious hope is that the lasting effect is a positive one.  The older he became, the more time I spent on my knees in prayer and still often wonder if I can ever spend enough time there.  I know that the reality is, no, I can not.
Of all the prayers I have prayed - general and specific - the most important was one of relenquishment.  Five years ago, I was at a place of exasperation.  Nothing I did as a mother seemed to be right and this wonderful relationship we had always shared seemed to be falling apart.  A crack had appeared and seemed to be ever widening.  I knew it was more than him just growing up.  I struggled with what God wanted me to do and learn.  Discernment of the situation eluded me.  The fear of losing him, physically and emotionally, persecuted me.


Yet, God was speaking to me. The story of Abraham seemed to be everywhere.  I would hear it at church, it showed up in my daily devotional readings - in e-mails and in my books.  It even showed up on the two Christian radio stations I listen to.  One day, I finally got my bible out and began to study about Abraham and his faith.  It was only then that I really understood.  I had to relenquish Logan to God because he had been entrusted to me.  He was a gift to me.  Logan is really God’s child, not mine.  I am just a steward.  A guardian.  It is my job to seek God’s instruction on how to pray, teach and raise him.  Most importantly, to have a faith like Abraham’s, I had to not only know but trust that God’s way is the only way, and so I might have that same strong faith, I must trust and be obedient in all situations.  This was the day my prayers for Logan changed.  I knew when I began praying, no matter what happened in his life,  God  would handle it His way and that even though in my field of vision it might not seem it, God had the situation under control.  This does not mean that I always stay calm.  It does not mean that I do not have moments of distress and worry.  Nor does it mean that I do not spend time in disagreement with God because I am human and sometimes I think that I do know best.  In those times, I am sure I give God great amusement with my plans of how it should all be handled.  However, I have learned, it is when I stray from God’s way that I mess it all up and when I walk in His ways everything is right and perfect and good.


I thank God for this gift of my child, in good times and in bad times.  The law says a year ago he became an adult.  I know at 19, he is a man, but to me, he is still that wide-eyed child ready to jump from the high back of a chair just to see the surprise on my face.

Thanks for the Blessing

As the deer pants for streams of water, so my soul pants for you, O God ~ Psalm 42:1

Each May, our church’s women’s ministry hosts a retreat.  It lasts from Friday evening to Sunday afternoon.  It is a wonderful time of reflection, spiritual reconnection with God and for many, a time of healing.  The first year I went, I was nervous.  Never having been to a retreat, I had no idea what to expect.  I also had a non-committal attitude.  I did not want to lead prayer, a small group or be involved in anything administrative.  If I went unnoticed for the entire weekend that suited me just fine.  I remember praying to God, “Just make me anonymous”.  At the time, I was a newer member to our congregation and I was a back-pew-dwelling-slink-out-as-the-last-word-of-prayer-was-uttered kind of Christian girl.  On Saturday night of our retreats, we have a Prayer and Healing service.  The lights are dimmed, soothing voices whisper scripture and the worship team softly plays and sings hymns.  That first healing service I sat adamantly glued to my chair.  I wasn’t going to a prayer corner.  I refused to be prayed over.  However, this was as far as God would allow me to go and remain anonymous.  I knew I needed healing.  I knew why.  I knew for what.  Still, I made every argument to God about why I shouldn’t have to go and He made it impossible for me not to obey.  As I stumbled over my own two feet, tears streamed in a river down my cheeks.  I couldn’t speak, but it did not matter.  Prayers began to be lifted up to God, hands were laid on my shoulders, my back, my head.  I was anointed with oil.  I can not tell you how long the praying lasted, but when it was over there were so many women around me that a chain had been formed so that the women in the outer circle were linked to the women touching me.  Before that night, I had never experienced the Holy Spirit in such a mighty and all-consuming way.  And make no mistake, I was consumed.  For the next year, I spent time exploring how God was transforming me, how He was preparing me, and for what.  I no longer wasted time questioning the whys.  I questioned the whats.  Constantly on my lips was the question, “what’s next God?”


Last year was my second opportunity to attend our women’s retreat.  I was asked to help with the art committee and I agreed.  Then I said, “Ok, God, I’ll give a little, but not too much ok?”  Later that night, as I lay in bed, I was flooded with the memory and emotion of the previous year’s retreat.  God had required nothing of me, but had given me a priceless gift of emotional healing.  I changed my prayer and offered myself up to God, “You tell me what you need God.  This time I want to be there for you.”  Now, this came with an unspoken disclaimer - I am no public speaker.  God knows this, but of course, God has a sense of humor like no other.  Over the next few weeks, I assisted the art committee with this and that - nothing special, just filling in with small things that needed to be done.  Finally, the weekend of the retreat arrived and by then, I had also agreed to lead a small group.  I assumed this was the extent of God’s request of me and I went about my business.  I thanked God for the opportunity, but begged Him not to let me screw it up.  He honored my request.  Then, He his fun with me began. Everywhere I turned it seemed, someone wanted me to speak about something.  Could I speak about how Secret Sisters had impacted me?  Could I lead morning prayer?  As my head screamed, “No! No! No! This requires public speaking”.  My heart said yes because I had promised whatever He needed.  It was important to me that I prove to God He could trust me and it was also important that I understand that I could trust God to work through me in the tasks He chooses for me to accomplish.  If memory serves correctly, there were about 43 women there and most, seasoned and eloquent “public” speakers and prayers.  But He asked me.  If He asked me, He had confidence in me.  And if God has confidence in me to complete some task He has asked me to do, then who can change the course He has set.  Who can change the words He wants spoken?  So with His words on my lips, I spoke and I prayed and through the weekend I was quietly told from other women how my testimony blessed and about the sweetness of my morning prayer.  And that was enough confirmation for me to know that God was pleased with my obedience.  

But here is the real blessing.


On Sunday morning, after our service, I quietly slipped out.  The retreat center is on the other side of a neighborhood.  Between the two is 100 yards of a connecting asphalt.  I left the parking lot and rounded the corner turning onto this connecting road.  It had been raining all weekend and the morning was misty and cold.  Through the mist, I saw a deer standing in the middle of this road.  I stopped the car.  I waited.  From the side of the road, two more deer appeared and they all crossed together.  I was so happy, I said a quick prayer of thanks.  I love to see deer along country roads.  I always get excited to just see one and here were three.  I slowly eased forward sure that I would be able to watch for a moment as they foraged for food on the other side.  As I pulled forward, more deer began to emerge.  I was so happy at this point, and a little embarrassed to admit, that I actually squealed with delight.  One deer kept looking back from where they had come.  I followed its gaze.  In the edge of the wood were eight more deer waiting for it to be safe to cross the road.  I turned off the car and waited.  A moment later, they all crossed together.  All total, there were twelve deer.


A gift from God because He delights in my happiness.


Yesterday, I drove to the retreat center because I had a meeting since - you guessed it - I am head of the art committee.  I took a friend along for the ride.  Yesterday morning, as I was contemplating my blog entry, I was telling God, “I remember the deer from last year.  Maybe it would make a nice post.”  And wouldn’t you know it, when we were leaving the retreat center, I was telling my friend, “this is where I saw those deer last year”.  And she smiled as she looked past me.  I turned to look out my window and there were 5 deer standing at the edge of the road amongst the trees and snow.  We stopped and watched and they watched us back.  This time I had my camera.  This time I have pictures.  As I drove away, I was given a new revelation into the depth of God’s character - when I speak, God listens.  Not just when I am asking for a prayer to be answered.  Not just when I have a need or I am venting frustration.  He listens when I speak because He is the ultimate friend.  Always there in good times and bad with a heart to share joy and a shoulder to catch tears.  Yesterday, He gave me joy.  Not because I asked.  Just because He is God.  And God is good.

In the Stillness

I love the beauty of the seasons, but if the truth is to be admitted - I am a summer girl. I love the warmth of the sun on my skin, the bluest sky above as the clouds float lazily by, the coolness of the green grass under my bare feet. I get lost in those summer days. Every moment I am able, I spend them outside basking in the gloriousness of the season and during each winter month that passes, I ache for the return of my blessed summer days.

This year we have been presented with an unprecedented snowfall. It is always exciting to see those first few snow flakes fall in the early morning hours through a tree’s bare branches illuminated by the street lamp - God’s gift of beauty for me through the unbearable cold months as I await the first warm spring day. But I have realized, it is in the waiting and longing that I find God and His splendor in the little gifts He deposits along the way. Our four foot total accumulation of the last few weeks has slowly melted to less than a foot. When my husband came home from work on Friday, he excitedly told me, “I saw grass today. A small patch. And it was green.” I was filled with joy because we both knew what this meant. The warm weather is creeping in. This morning, I saw my hyacinths have begun to push through the hard winter soil and in the last remnants of snow there was a spot of green at the top of the bulb - a word from God telling me to “hang on, Spring is almost here, and Summer will soon be yours to enjoy.” And so I wait, for a little while longer, with anticipation of another summer to come. Patience may be a virtue, but it is not one of my finer qualities. God knows this all too well because He made me. He instilled this quality in me for a future purpose that has yet to be revealed to me. For now, He teaches me.

It is in the waiting I am learning to be still. It is in the stillness I am learning to hear Him and it is in the hearing of the words that He speaks to my heart that He tells me He knows what I need to be happy. In the patches of green still surrounded by the melting snow, in those hyacinths pushing through the winter ground, in the lengthening of the days - I realize our lives are filled with seasons of advent and it is those seasons that teach me the patience I need to wait on God in my daily life. This patience matures me so that God’s purpose for my life will be more complete. The blessings come from my obedience to Him, but it is through these gifts, I understand that I am His child and He delights in my happiness.