Samwise Gamgee, again

 I have been reading old blog postings the last couple of days. Re-learning the beautiful lessons that God taught me years ago and being so very glad that I wrote them down! 

When I wrote this I had only been having seizures about 2 years. We had never dreamed that I would someday have a service animal, but I am positive, looking back, that God gave Andy this revelation for my future need of my Samwise seizure dog.

(This is just a silly picture of him “dressed” as a super hero after a bath)

So much has changed in our physical world since I wrote this.
I suppose things have changed spiritually too - hopefully we have continued to grow and mature.
But what stood out to me is that this lesson stays the same. We need our supporter, our helper, always.

 Keep seeking that!


Tue, July 13, 2010
We watched Lord of the Rings, Return of the King today - just because. (Truthfully, I need to read the book. I am almost embarrassed to admit that I haven't!)

We had played outside in the morning, before the heat and humidity became unbearable. The boys had worked some puzzles, and later woke daddy up. (He's on late shift again, so sleeping til 12 is the way it works around here...) 

But it was 12, and they were bored, and a movie seemed an appropriate idea for a lazy summer afternoon. 

Daddy watched some of it with them. I got to sit for portions also. But my boys sat and soaked up every minute. 

I am pretty sure that every moment that I watched made me cry. The rallying cry for the men of Rohan to "ride for honor and freedom". The ghost warriors earning their ability to rest in peace after finally fighting as they had promised in life. Arwen stepping out from behind the banner to greet Aragorn, the new king and her true love. 

Near the end, when Frodo is hanging off the edge of the precipice and Sam entreats him not to let go, I commented to Andy and the boys that even though the evil of the ring had captured Frodo's mind and heart for a while, his friend had stood by him. We need our friends to back us up. 

Andy thought about the movie for a minute and said "Really, Sam is like the Holy Spirit". Throughout the movie, he is the quiet voice encouraging Frodo. He tries to help him make the right choices. He carries his food, and blankets. He uncovers his face so he can breathe again when the spider captures him. He even carries Frodo up the hill to the fire of Mount Doom. But -he can't carry the ring. Nor could he throw the ring away. Frodo had to do it. He had to make that decision himself. 

We have an encourager, who travels with us everywhere we go. Trips as simple as the grocery, or as distant as the moon. He gives us advice - what to say, how to respond, reminders to smile rather then scowl and to swallow rather then scream. However, we have to make the decision to follow that advise. We have to "throw the ring". 

The longer Frodo carried that ring, the heavier it got. It left marks around his neck, and began to scar his mind. Sin does the same thing to us. Especially a sin we favor. "It's not a big deal"... "No one really notices"... "It doesn't hurt anyone"... "It's not even mentioned in the Bible"... 

You know what I am talking about. Those little nudges that the Spirit says "stop", and the marks are your neck are getting bloodied from, but still, you continue to do. 

Listen to your Sam. Throw away the ring. 

I really didn't get on here planning to preach tonight. I just wanted to talk about how much I love my hubby's ability to find the Holy Spirit in an action movie. But, sometimes my fingers just type, and someone else is doing the talking - so, whoever needed to hear this, blessings. Throw the ring in, and feel the release from around your neck. 

And remember, not only do you have a friend in your Sam (the Holy Spirit), I promise that you have me too.

At home in My love

My friend Amanda texted this verse to me this morning. 

“Remain in My love.”

 How is it that friends know what we need before we do?

The MSG translation says “Make yourselves at home in My love.”

I have been at home in His love from before I have memories. 

This picture of my parents and I speaks to me so much right now.

 Look how young they are! They have so much still to learn, about Jesus, and each other, parenting and the body of Christ. 

 But they had already given me to Jesus.

I was already “abiding” in His love. (NKJV)

Hold onto that, please, while I change subjects. 

This is my new insulin pump. I got it, and a new CGM, on Wednesday. 

The potential for the teamwork is beautiful, and I am hopeful, but learning new tech while recovering from several other recent medical “issues” is complicated. I might be slightly overwhelmed.

And after a beautiful three weeks off, the seizures decided they were ready to come back early Thursday morning.  

My blood sugars have been ALL OVER the place, and this new machine is set to “tell me” every time. The seizures were more exhausting then usual, just because I am weak after a few weeks off. Mom was having trouble with her heart, again, and a relative of Andy’s passed away yesterday and my nephew was having some sort of allergic reaction, over and over, at 5 months old. 

I was discouraged. 

I was letting discouragement win. 

Then, I greeted this morning with that first verse in a text and very shortly after the verse shown on my insulin pump picture popped up in my reading.

“Haven’t you learned to trust (me) yet?”

I laughed.

I might have cried a little too. 

I think my Jesus might have to be frustrated with me. 

“Still no trust Bethany?”

Then I looked up at the mantle, at the sign Andy bought me just a few days ago, the reminder that I can do this...because I don’t actually have to do anything. 

Just let faith be bigger than fear. 

Remember that I can trust Him. 

Hold onto that promise that I am “at home” in His love. 

That is so simple. 

It is enough.

Stay on the boat?

The story of Jesus calling to his disciples, pulling them away from what they knew and what they were comfortable with, has always been exciting for me. The chance to go and follow Him is beautiful. Stirring. Inspiring. 

 I wanted to be James and John, Simon and Andrew, walking away from the boat that I already knew how to navigate. Learning something more. 

 But until yesterday I had never given Zebedee much thought. I respected him, for raising men that were willing to walk away and brave enough to try something scary, but truly, I hadn’t really given him much thought. 

 Yesterday this verse reached out and grabbed me when it was on the “highlight” list of a woman I respect a lot. It made me ask questions of myself. 

 Then, when it was a part of my “assigned” reading this morning, I figured it was time to really give it some attention. 

 When is it time to be Zebedee? 

 Sometimes, are we supposed to just stay behind, on the boat? 

 My boys are becoming men. At 16 and 14, their ability to make decisions isn’t fully mature and the strength of their convictions is not done growing. They have so much more to learn still, about Jesus, and people, and right vs wrong and the blurry place in the “middle” that confuses us all at some point. 

 But they are becoming men. 

 Right this minute I think I might be having a Zebedee moment. 

 The book of Mark doesn’t say if he argued with them, encouraged them, or simply sat quietly while they walked away. Did he want them to be brave? Did he know they were about to be part of something that changed the world?

 I have to assume, knowing the rest of the story, that he was a man who was seeking after God. What could he do other than hand those boys of his over to Jehovah?

 I have always wanted to be one of the disciples, but right this minute I just want to be strong enough to be Zebedee. 

 When are we called to stay on the boat? 

 I don’t know the answer to that question, but I want to learn. 

 I want my boys to be each a “man after God’s own heart”, like David. 

 Not perfect. None of us find perfection. 

 But aware of their calling, aware of their faults, aware of their Savior. 

 I will continue to pray over them, forever. I will offer them advice when they are willing to hear it, forever. But I cannot be what makes them. I cannot be what holds them. I cannot. 

 So I will seek to be as strong as Zebedee, and listen to my Savior when I am called to stay on the boat. 

 Join me?

Visible love

People are beautiful.

Truly. 

We have so many different personalities, opinions, passions and interests.

But visible, tangible love is just so beautiful.

The body of Christ here in Troy stepped up and poured love out on us my first several weeks home from the hospital. 

And it was sooooo hard for me! 

I want to BE the hands and feet. I don’t want to need them!

Oh, the beautiful things God teaches you, and the beautiful people HE uses to help you learn. 

I was struggling. Obviously, my body really was fairly messed up the first several days. 

I needed help...whether I wanted to accept it or not.

But the last two days I think that, perhaps, I didn’t really NEED it any more. 

I could make something to eat. 

We could eat frozen, or fast food, or make do with sandwiches. 

What I did NEED though, was the amazing peace that comes from love poured out over you. 

I was “down”, feeling useless and without purpose when I was reminded that I am still serving Jesus.

My words could be filled with His words. 

My hands weren’t very capable, but that didn’t make me useless. 

Thank you, amazing people who poured love out on me, and amazing people who asked me for love. I needed you both! 

Tomorrow is the WADA. We will hopefully learn enough to answer some questions about surgery. 

But, even if we don’t learn enough still, I have love pouring over me, and I have love to give back to others. 

That is enough. 

Now, go out there and pour love out, in whatever way God had asked you to share it. 

Be blessed my friends! 

The first year

 Today is an anniversary.

 The anniversary of my father’s leaving us, of joining with Jesus, of passing away. Of Death.

 I suppose every day is an anniversary of something. Memories come and remind of the past. Words come and bring both sorrow and hope.
 My amazing Jesus has been so very involved today, using those words for hope in the midst of sorrow. Please, please, don’t ever lose sight of the strength He gives when we aren’t expecting.
 This morning as I prepped for the day a new song came on, at least new to me. It is called “Show Me”, and sung by Audrey Assad. Listen, if you have a moment. I interpreted it to be about mourning. Maybe not only mourning a person, but a dream or a hope or a desire.
 The line it starts with, “You could plant me like a tree beside the river. You could tangle me in soil and let my roots run wild...but for now just let me cry,” fit so perfectly with the words of Emerson, which had already reached out and struck me this morning that I had to stop and catch my breath.

 This Emerson quote is long, but I can’t find it in my heart to subtract anything.

  “And yet the compensations of calamity are made apparent to the understanding also, after long intervals of time. A fever, a mutilation, a cruel disappointment, a loss of wealth, a loss of friends, seems at the moment unpaid loss, and unpayable. But the sure years reveal the deep remedial force that underlies all facts. The death of a dear friend, wife, brother, lover, which seemed nothing but privation, somewhat later assumes the aspect of a guide or genius; for it commonly operates revolutions in our way of life, terminates an epoch of infancy or of youth which was waiting to be closed, breaks up a wonted occupation, or a household, or style of living, and allows the formation of new ones more friendly to the growth of character. It permits or constrains the formation of new acquaintances, and the reception of new influences that prove of the first importance to the next years; and the man or woman who would have remained a sunny garden flower, with no room for its roots and too much sunshine for its head, by the falling of the walls and the neglect of the gardener, is made the banyan of the forest, yielding shade and fruit to wide neighborhoods of men.”

— Self-Reliance and Other Essays by Ralph Waldo Emerson
http://a.co/5xwkdFX

Oh, that last line! Don’t be sad if you are no longer able to be a peaceful, quiet, pretty little flower in a garden. Know that God is taking you farther, making you grow into a tree, and thus providing shade for the world around you. Like the blog I wrote recently, about the verse with the lines “so that”...this struck me the same way. God is using every moment. Even the hard ones.
 Perhaps you need to ask Him for a moment just to cry, but don’t get stuck there. Don’t be content there.

 The chorus of the Audrey Assad song says, “Bind up these broken bones. Mercy bend and breathe me back to life...but not before You show me how to die.”

 How to die.

 What do we need to die to, so that we can be a tree, rather than a flower? What can we mourn and then let go?

 Seek truth. Find the pain that makes you better and stronger and more of what HE has called you to be and then celebrate it. Cry those tears, then rejoice in what they create.
 Blessings my friends.

The next step

A small moment of truth, that I don’t really want to share, but think I am supposed to. 

You never reach perfect. 

Duh. 

You all know that. 

But have you accepted it? 

God is not done with you. 

God will never be done with you. 

God is not “done” with me.

God will never be “done” with me. 

I don’t get to find my purpose and just be good at it. 

I have to keep learning, and keep growing, and keep letting HIM lead. 

Some days that is harder than others. 

Spiritually and physically.

I am struggling with words. 

I want to have depth, and meaning, and bring growth to your life. 

I want God to use me dramatically.

I want to have a purpose that changes the world. 

 Instead, I have a headache, and some fear of what comes next. 

This is what comes next.

https://www.epilepsy.com/learn/treating-seizures-and-epilepsy/surgery/tests-surgery/wada-test

Next Friday, Valentine’s Day, we move to the next test. 

The week in the hospital revealed a lot, but some of it brought new questions. 

How much of my brain do I use? (Perhaps more than they expected?)

How much of it can I afford to do without?

Definitely questions I want to know the answer to before we decide to cut part out. 

On a happier note:

Last day with staples! 

Don’t they look cool?

27 of them, all over my head, ready to come out tomorrow!

Rejoice in the Lord always, again I say, rejoice!

Philippians 4:4

Make that choice.

Accept that you aren’t perfect, Spiritually or physically.

Then get those staples yanked out and take the next step, rejoicing as you go!

Be blessed my friends!