We know in part…

There is so much we can’t see. For example…

 Do you see the giant tree in this picture? 

 Let me rephrase that. 

 Do you see the small portion of the giant tree showing in this picture? It is solid and strong. It has roots going deep into the ground and branches reaching high into the sky. Small plants grow under it and around it. Deer sleep in it’s shelter. Rabbits play in the shade it provides. An annoying armadillo digs holes all around it, looking for interesting things to eat. Under and on and in it there are oodles of insects. In the branches there are a multitude of birds. 

 But this picture shows one tiny portion. 

 That is what was impressed upon me so deeply with that Bible verse as well. 

 “We know in part.” 

 In our modern times with our “search button” allowing us to know more all the time, we want to know it all. We want to see the whole thing.

 But as this beautiful picture reminds us, we can’t. 

 You can’t see both the front and the back at the same time. You can’t see above and underneath. You can’t see inside the tree- you will kill it.

 Sometimes we have to simply look at what we can see, what is visible to us where we stand right now, and have faith that what is on the other side is doing what it is suppose to and going where it needs to. 

 

 We have to trust that our Heavenly Father is doing amazing things on the other side of the tree. Even when HE isn’t explaining it to us, HE is still involved. 

 I am confident. 

Be blessed with faith my friends, even though you can only see one part of the picture!

Made perfect in weakness

 When I was a young girl there was a song sung by Twila Paris that, especially after I was diagnosed with diabetes, summed up my desire, my goal, for everything I wanted to be. Everything I hoped for my future was based around the ability to sing that song and mean it. 

I have pasted a link to YouTube and encourage you to listen to it. It is called The Thorn and is based around 2 Corinthians 12:7. 

“So to keep me from becoming conceited because of the surpassing greatness of the revelations, a thorn was given me in the flesh, a messenger of Satan to harass me, to keep me from becoming conceited.” 2 Corinthians‬ ‭12:7‬ ‭ESV‬‬

 The ESV fits the song, calling it a thorn, but the MSG simplifies the meaning so nicely. 

 “I was given the gift of a handicap to keep me in constant touch with my limitations. Satan’s angel did his best to get me down; what he in fact did was push me to my knees. No danger then of walking around high and mighty! At first I didn’t think of it as a gift, and begged God to remove it. Three times I did that, and then he told me, My grace is enough; it’s all you need. My strength comes into its own in your weakness. Once I heard that, I was glad to let it happen. I quit focusing on the handicap and began appreciating the gift. It was a case of Christ’s strength moving in on my weakness. Now I take limitations in stride, and with good cheer, these limitations that cut me down to size—abuse, accidents, opposition, bad breaks. I just let Christ take over! And so the weaker I get, the stronger I become.”

‭‭2 Corinthians‬ ‭12:7-10‬ ‭MSG‬‬

 That scripture passage has meant a lot to me, always. But for some reason just a few nights ago it was brought to the forefront, heavily, again. 

 I am part of a Wednesday night ladies Bible study group. We are reading a book together, discussing what God is teaching us and sharing our burdens. All different ages, stages of life, backgrounds and I suppose different futures as well. Simply women. In the opening prayer, as a wonderful woman of God was lifting requests and giving thanks, I had impressed upon me SO STRONGLY the need to “thank Him for the thorn” of Covid. 

 Thank Him for Covid. 

 I wrote that, immediately, on a piece of paper in my devotional. 

 

“Thank you for Covid!? It made us be still and quiet for just a moment. Remind us of that.”

 Notice, I had to add a “?” at the end of the first statement. As I wrote that first line I wasn’t sure that I could mean it. However, God never stops with just the first line if we are listening. 

 I have mulled the whole thing over for a few days, and have been pulled back to the verses in 2 Corinthians over and over. That thorn, that handicap, was given for a reason. His strength is made perfect in my weakness. If I think I am strong, if I think I can do it on my own, then I am not letting Him be the strength. 

 Remember that, please, when you have a thorn poking at your side. Remember also thorns come in many different packages. 

 That last line that I wrote, “remind us of that”... I want to mean it. 

I don’t know, not really, if I meant “remind us to be still and quiet” or “remind us to be thankful”, but I want to mean both. 

 I am choosing to mean both. 

 Beautifully, this verse from Psalm 46:10 was placed directly in front of me as a confirmation of both. 

Be still. 

Know, and trust, that He is God and we can be THANKFUL for even more than we want to recognize. 

As Twila Paris sings, 

Thank you for this thorn   fellowship of pain
Teaching me to know you more   never to complain
Thank You for this love   planted in my side
Faithful patient miracle   opening my eyes.

 Remember to be still and quiet, for just a moment, and then to be thankful for that moment even if it was painful. 

 Be blessed my friends as you choose to trust Him today. Know that you are loved, always. 

A simple reminder

 

Dear restless heart, be still; don’t fret and worry so;

God has a thousand ways His love and help to show;

Just trust, and trust, and trust, until His will you know. 

Dear restless heart, be still, for peace is God’s own smile,

His love can every wrong and sorrow reconcile;

Just love, and love, and love, and calmly wait awhile. 

Dear restless heart, be brave; don’t moan and sorrow so, 

He has a meaning kind in chilly winds that blow;

Just hope, and hope, and hope, until you braver grow. 

Dear restless heart, repose upon His breast this hour,

His grace is strength and life; His love is bloom and flower;

Just rest, and rest, and rest, within His tender power. 

Dear restless heart, be still! Don’t struggle to be free;

God’s life is in your life, from Him you may not flee;

Just pray, and pray, and pray, til you have faith to see. 

                                                               Edith Willis Linn

That picture has been my Facebook photo for several years now. It, quite simply, is my goal. I don’t succeed, but the goal is renewed every morning with the fresh new day. This poem struck me as a beautiful summary. 

 My restless heart forgets the goal, over and over, but we are reminded to trust and love and hope and rest and, most importantly, pray. 

 So, that is my reminder to you. Stop for a moment and let all of those goals be remembered. 

 Trust.

 Love. 

 Hope. 

 Rest. 

 Pray. 

 As always, I will add the reminder of my favorite- seek Joy my friends. One breath at a time! 

One good moment at a time

I tried to write this post several weeks ago but it didn’t have an ending, it didn’t have a conclusion. Andy said that it “was fine”, which is about as ugly as he gets about my writing. So, it didn’t get published. Instead it simply got pushed to the back and ignored. 

It is strange, really, what you discover while you wait. Or perhaps, more accurately, what you learn yet again. 

 I have had John 5, and especially the man by the pool, brought to my attention several times recently. Repeatedly, really. 

 For anyone who doesn’t know that story... there was a pool in Israel where the water would sometimes seem to stir, to move, without any human understanding. The first one who could dunk themselves in that moving water would often receive a miracle. Those who were sick, who needed a miracle, would often congregate around the pool, hoping and praying for the water to stir and for a miracle to occur. 

 However, tradition held that for them to receive the miracle, they had to be the first one in. So, even though there was joy, there was always sadness there too. 

The gospel of John says “One man was there who had been an invalid for thirty-eight years. When Jesus saw him lying there and knew that he had already been there a long time, he said to him, “Do you want to be healed?” The sick man answered him, “Sir, I have no one to put me into the pool when the water is stirred up, and while I am going another steps down before me.” Jesus said to him, “Get up, take up your bed, and walk.” And at once the man was healed, and he took up his bed and walked. Now that day was the Sabbath.” John‬ ‭5:5-9‬ ‭ESV‬‬

When I say this verse was “brought to my attention”, I mean in every way. A Sunday morning sermon, of course. A friend highlighting it on the Bible app so that I see it. It coming up in a devotional I am doing alone and also one with a friend. Then in an actual paper devotional as well, not just the digital ones. Then, just to make sure I was listening, a second paper devotional. 

 

 So, my friends, what am I suppose to learn from the man picking up his bed and being healed? 

 The answer to that is “I still don’t know.” 

 I don’t know what I am suppose to learn specifically from that story. I have had several ideas and I think they have all been “proven” wrong... I still don’t know what exactly I am suppose to be learning right now, from that story. But what I will tell you is that it has made me read more. Search more. Ask more. 

 And what it has led me to is truth, over and over. 

 Learning that “I don’t know” has, in complete honesty, helped me know other things so beautifully. 

 I know I just used it last time I wrote, but this verse says so clearly what my Jesus is teaching me right now. The Lord establishes my steps. 

 I can try to plan my course, have my goals, dream my dreams. None of those are evil. None of those are against my God. 

 But The Lord establishes my steps. 

 I either trust that or I don’t. 

 I either live that or I don’t. 

 

That leads to one of my favorite verses.

“Trust in the LORD with all your heart, And lean not on your own understanding; In all your ways acknowledge Him, And He shall direct your paths.”

‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭3:5-6‬ ‭NKJV‬‬

 

 “Not on your own understanding”. 

 That sums it up my friends. 

 Trust. 

 Even if you don’t understand. 

 He will lead. 

 If you go back to that first verse I posted, the story in John, there is more to the story. You see, the man who was healed wasn’t brave enough to proclaim it. When he was questioned about technical difficulties he passed the blame immediately, rather than pointing out the obvious good. 

 Perhaps that is the lesson to learn? That one hasn’t been pointed out by any of the devotionals I have read but perhaps that is the one I am suppose to share. 

 Don’t make miracles more complicated, don’t make LIFE more complicated than it has to be. 

 Find the good. Choose the good. Share the good. 

 Jesus makes it good. 

 Be blessed my friends. One good moment at a time. 

What do you see?

 I have been quiet again. God asked me to trust Him and sometimes that happens best when I am just quiet. But to give an example of how I have been feeling... I literally cried on my physical therapist last week, about things having nothing to do with physical therapy. 

 As always, my Savior sent me back to The Word and reminded me that HE has filled it with everything I need. 

 Oh, that simple truth. Trust. The next part of that scripture in the NKJV, how I learned it as a child, says “and lean not on your own understanding.” 

 What is my understanding? What do I truly know? When I take a moment to be still and consider that question I am reminded of truth. My understanding belongs only to me. It isn’t the same as Andy’s or Canaan’s or Zion’s. It doesn’t match that of my mother or my sisters or my best friends. The people that I love the most and that I trust to love me still don’t have the same “understanding” as I do. They don’t see from the same angle and don’t have the same set of memories to match it all to. 

 They don’t understand me, not really. 

 I don’t understand me, not really.

 My opinions have changed over time. My experiences have taught me different things as I have lived them. The only truth I truly have, the unchanging and constant truth, is my Jesus. 

 And this sounds political. Interesting that HE has me posting it the day after election while we wait for the counts to come through, since that isn’t the point of this at all. This is medical, as usual. 

 My truth, as always, is that our bodies are temporary. We live. We die. We leave behind what we have done or not done, and the love we have shared or not shared. 

 It has been a rough few weeks. First; Zion is fine, but some blood work gave us a scare and called for more blood work. Stress for a mommy. 

 Andy’s time in airborne decided to show itself and cause some pain. Once again, back to the doc. 

 I am recovering really well from brain surgery, but memory is being problematic. I am training myself to just write everything down. No trusting the brain to remind me- that is what “notes” on the iPhone was invented for, right? 

 But God decided to make sure I truly meant it when I declared Joy above fear and trust in all things. The “C” word made an appearance. 

 I had a mole on my forearm that had changed shape, size and color, so Andy, amazing, wonderful, bossy man that he is, insisted that I get it looked at. Family doc removed a sample, like the 10 or so others through the years and I expected to be done with the whole thing, but no, this one had to be difficult and have cancer show up in it. 

 So, they cut out the whole thing, plus quite a bit more. I really should have educated myself more because this is going to be a much bigger scar than I expected! 

 Short warning- picture of “surgery” to follow. 

Surgery day

They cut out an entire diamond shape around the mole, then stitch it into a straight line. Some of this skin if far away from where it started! 

What I come back to, over and over, is the promise of this verse. This IS the day that the Lord has made.

 It is. 

 Whether we choose to see it that way, or not, is up to us. Whether we choose to rejoice in it, or not, is up to us. Whether we choose to live life fully, or simply survive, is up to us. 

“In some way or another we will have to learn the difference between trusting in the gift and trusting in the Giver. The gift may be good for a while, but the Giver is the eternal love.” F.B.Meyer

 So, my friends, keep choosing what you trust, and how you live that trust. 

 Show Love. 

 Shine Joy.

 Keep Hope. 

 Make your Faith visible. 

 Let Truth, the kind that cannot be hidden and will not be silenced, lead you. 

 Remember that you are blessed, every single step of the way. Even the hard steps. 

Choices, every moment

 I finished reading Pollyanna today. I started it before surgery and didn’t have time to finish and it has hung heavy on my heart, that need to finish it. I have read it before, as well as seen the old Disney film multiple times, but I knew that I NEEDED to finish the book again. 

 I am so very glad that I listened to that prompting of the Spirit. 

 Once again, as I did weeks ago, I want to suggest to everyone, please, read that book. 

 Please, take a few moments to be reminded to find Joy, to seek the good when sometimes the bad is easier to see, to let go of the ugly and hang on to the beautiful, BY CHOICE. 

 Here is a simple truth. I want to be her. I want to consciously, daily, on purpose, be Pollyanna. Because Pollyanna is making the choice to find the good and the beautiful and the positive around her and to BY CHOICE place the ugly in the hands of her Savior. And she is making the world better as she does it. 

The game...played by choice, every day in every situation. 

An idea introduced by her missionary father, who had already buried his wife and other children, reminding them to seek the good and to find the positive. 

 I have been informed by my older teen that in parts of modern culture to be “a Pollyanna“ is considered a negative and to be called a Pollyanna is considered a slight. That made me cry, again. To know that we live in a world that considers it wrong to seek the good. However, I spent some time mulling that over and I realized that someone who has no Joy would have a hard time appreciating someone else’s. Someone who has not shared Joy would perhaps feel bad about someone who shares it without caution. Someone who only sees the bad would be frightened by the ability to seek the good. 

 I cried, again, in a moment of sorrow for those who are so lacking in Joy that the Joy of someone else frightens them. 

 Then I was reminded that sharing with those who do not understand is the whole point.

 The whole point.  

 

“The point is this: The person who sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, and the person who sows generously will also reap generously. Each person should do as he has decided in his heart — not reluctantly or out of compulsion, since God loves a cheerful giver.”

‭‭2 Corinthians‬ ‭9:6-7‬ ‭CSB‬‬

 So, please, join me in Joy. Sow generously and BE a Pollyanna with me. Choose the hope, share the good, pour out the joy overflowing to others and making the world better. Stop and find something to celebrate. It will not make the bad magically disappear. It will not make the negative cease to happen. I am sorry to say that the world has bad and it will continue. Like Pollyanna, there will be moments when the Joy is hard to find and you and I forget for a moment how to see it. But don’t let those moments win! 

 

 Be blessed my amazing wonderful friends as you choose Joy in as many moments as possible. Keep getting up and doing it again! 

Two choices, always

 That big bold star below, surrounded by the dark night around it, spoke to me today. 

Oh, how beautiful is the light it shines, despite feeling overwhelmed!

 Have you felt what that verse is expressing? Cut off? Alone? Alarmed?

 I don’t think I will believe you if you say that you haven’t, but since I can’t hear you, you are only speaking to yourself anyway. So, don’t lie. 

 And for the rest of us, who have felt all of those emotions and more, this Psalm is breathtaking. 

 Read it again, please. 

 Our Father God hears us, even when we think He can’t. He hears us when we have given up. He hears when we think we are cut off. 

 I had a rough day on Sunday. I had two of my seizures, which are small and wouldn’t be noticed by the world around me but which wipe me out, during opening worship. I then spent almost all of the sermon time trying to figure out who I knew and who I didn’t, and why and how. 

 As I have written on here before, memory is very important and when it decides to abandon you it is problematic. 

 I had a third seizure very near the end of the service and feel like I forgot most of everything after that. I still knew how to walk, but not well. I didn’t pee my pants, which we will celebrate since that isn’t always true. We will choose to find the good. 

 I was feeling cut off. I was feeling overwhelmed. I was feeling confused. 

 That pretty much sums up Sunday. Memories eventually returned. I finally gave up and asked my kids to tell me a few names of people I love a lot and could picture in my head but simply couldn’t find a name for. I woke up “all better” on Monday. But fear had done it’s dirty little job and snuck back into my safe place. 

 So, the fight against it was renewed! Remember that, please. Fight again, fight more, fight harder. 

 There are two choices:

 You can be afraid, or not. 

 You can be overwhelmed, or not. 

 You can feel cut off, or not. 

 You sometimes have to feel everything. I think it is good to accept and respect all of those emotions in every part of your life. They are healthy and manageable and good when they are just an emotion, just a feeling, just a moment. But they are not the rule, they are not the ruler. Don’t let them be. 

 Remember that He hears our cry for mercy, always.

 March 30 is my next neurology appt. Then, hopefully, we find out the next step in this battle against epilepsy. While we wait join me in the Psalms, in this proclamation of hope.

Rejoice. Make that choice!

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.

Prison songs

This verse is not the beautiful, flowing, inspiring type of verse that you normally post in a picture online. 

 But did you really look at it? 

 They were in the dungeon, in stocks, after being beaten without a trial.

 And yet....

 They were singing and praying and encouraging those around them. Paul and Silas were in prison without trial or reason, but it doesn’t say why those around them were there. Perhaps they “deserved” to be there, perhaps they didn’t. Not for us to say. Paul and Silas definitely didn’t “deserve” it, but they were using their time there for good. They were encouraging the other prisoners, praising their Savior, lifting their concerns to Him. 

 Where are you right now my friend? 

 Feel like you “deserve” to be there? 

 That part doesn’t really matter. It isn’t the point. 

 What you do right now- around midnight, after being beaten, without a trial.

 Wherever you are - in a dungeon, far from home, surrounded by people who disagree with you or perhaps even hate you.

 Sing those hymns.

 Lift up your prayers (and then perhaps let them go?). 

 Encourage those around you- co-workers, fellow patients and the doctors who surround you, enemies, toddlers who exhaust you- whomever they are. 

 The story turns out well for Paul and Silas at this point. But later prison is the end for Paul. We don’t know where we end, or how, or when. But we do know that they were singing right that minute. 

 I want to sing too. 

 Join me! 

 Be blessed my friends, no matter where you are today. Sing! 

The set of the sails

I decided this morning it was time for Job again.  I return to that book over and over, and every time I learn something new. My fabulous Savior teaches me something new.
 This time I am reading a book, Portraits of Perseverance, by Henry Gariepy, along with it. I am only on page 17, so I can’t really say much yet, but this poem struck me this morning.

 One ship drives east and another drives west
With the selfsame winds that blow.
‘Tis the set of the sails
And not the gales
Which tells us the way to go.

Like the winds of the sea are the ways of fate,
As we voyage along through life:
‘Tis the set of the soul
That decides the goal
And not the calm or the strife. 

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

The wind can be strong. The storms can be rough. Sometimes it may feel that we have nothing to say about where we are going and how we will get there.
 And yet...it is still our choice where we set the sails.
 It is our decision whether we try.
 It is our decision whether we trust.

 And trust, trust is the word.

 As the Psalms say so beautifully, we KNOW who stirs the winds. We KNOW who calms the winds.

https://www.bible.com/116/psa.107.25,29.nlt

 So, my friends, take a breath. Be still, and rest.
 Then set your sails, set your soul, and remember that the storm doesn’t have the final say.

The son shining in my eyes...

 I started this post over a week ago, then decided to wait, to let things "calm down" in the world around me. But, they aren't calming down...so here goes.

 There is a lot of angst on the internet lately.

 I suppose that can always be found, angst. But right now it feels as if it can't be avoided.

 During the Inaguration a few weeks ago different tv channels had different points of view and different ways of sharing that point of view. How they reacted to each word, facial expression and gesture was according to how they perceived it.

 One station compared Trump's speech to a Rorschach ink blot... saying that most people interpreted it according to their prior opinions and emotions concerning Trump himself.

 That got me to thinking- isn't that true of every single moment?

 Our point of view determines how we view (and react) to many things.

 Our physical point of view can be determined by quite a few different things; Where we are standing, if we are wearing glasses or a hat, if the sun is shining in our eyes, what distractions are happening around us.

 Our emotional point of view is similar. It can be influenced by our family history, our faith, our health, or our joys and pains... if the son is shining in our eyes.  It can change from moment to moment, from situation to situation, just as our physical point of view can.

 I have been paying attention to different approaches to point of view recently.

 With that in mind, I want to tell you two stories, both completely true, just from different points of view. Not serious, or important, but a truthful example of how we choose to look at the world.


 Story one: My husband made absolutely irresistible, delicious, fresh homemade potato chips last week. I was on the phone with my mom, so when he got hungry he left me in peace and started digging. He discovered potatoes that were starting to sprout and really needed eaten, so he washed, peeled and sliced them, then used up the last little bit of coconut oil to fry them up. He knew our growing boys need some protein too, so he found hotdogs and buns, and even got out the condiments to top them with. I am so very blessed!

 Story two: My husband made greasy, unhealthy, fried potato chips last week. He has no respect for my health. While I was on the phone he got hungry, and rather then asking what the plan for dinner was, he started digging around. He made a huge mess, splashed oil all over the stove top, and used the last of the coconut oil, so I can't make the cookies I was planning to make. He even finished off the potatoes, which I had planned to make mashed potatoes with! So much for that meal plan. Argh!



 The exact same thing happened in those two stories.

 Exact.

 And yet, they sound very different.

 The details I choose to point out and the attitude I presented them with changes the story.

 That can be true about almost every single story, and perhaps even almost every moment.

 I am not really concerned with how you feel about Trump, or the very un-ladylike behavior of the women marching with vagina's on their heads, or whether we should have guns, or a ban on people entering the country. That is not the point of this blog. I am not even planning to share how I feel about those things. (although calling someone un-ladylike is about as harsh as I get, so you can guess how I feel about that one)

 What I want to talk about is our personal response to things. Most importantly, my response.

 As I said, angst is everywhere.

 You can't go out without hearing it. You can't stay in without hearing it.

  Because, guess what?! We are all different; each and every one of us. Some of us have more in common then others. Most people who will read this have something in common with me- they homeschool, have children, love Jesus, love my family. Some people even have ALL those things in common with me.

 Still, we don't agree on everything.

 Because we are different.

 Beautifully, amazingly, powerfully different.

 It is wonderful!

 It is those differences that make this world exciting. Differences makes us learn more, feel more, try more. Differences make us challenge what we believe and why we believe it.

 Obviously, I love to hear about things we agree on. But that is easy. Hearing about things we disagree on makes me question the what and why. If I never question the what and why, how do I really know what I think or believe?

 Change always brings fear. That is an absolute and anyone who disagrees, well, they are welcome to their opinion, but I don't believe them. Whether you let that fear control your words and actions - that is the part that is adjustable. The part you have the ability to change.

 During this time of transition, of change, we all have some fear.

 We also have the freedom to face that fear with excitement.

 With HOPE.

 With the desire to bring good, and the strength to stand up and actually do something about it.

 We all have a different point of view. We all have different hope and dreams. We all come from different history, different blood, different desires.

 And yet, we all have something in common.

 No, strike that: Many things in common.

 I am doing my best, every day, to find the common. The make the things that are the same what my point of view notices.

 Then, to take those similarities, those shared passions, and find a reason to pass along a smile, or a hug, or an offer to meet for coffee and just laugh together.

 That is the challenge of the week- find the similar, then make the choice to help it grow!

 Blessings my friends! 

Bethany 

Alexander...

 Last week, like Alexander, I had a "Terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day." Truly, it just kept getting worse. My cycle started, which is probably TMI, but when you know you are never going to have another baby it just seems such a waste of time and energy. The heater in the bathroom suddenly quit working, so it was cold when I got out of the shower. Zion spilled his milk everywhere as we were trying to run out the door for homeschool co-op. My blood sugar went sky-high (over 300!) because somehow my pump was not attached correctly. I forgot the library books, so I couldn't return them. The line was humungous when I stopped at the pharmacy to pick up my Synthroid. But we finally made it to the commissary. I just needed to pick up a few things - to get Andy through the week while we were gone. But of course I grabbed a few things on sale, and several for which I had coupons that were about to expire. Still, we made decent time, saved $25 dollars in coupons and tried to pay.

 No luck.
 Card rejected. 

I suppose a back story is needed here. Just a few days later my credit card had been hacked. As in someone tried to spend $1000 on it, and didn't have the expiration date. My bank caught it, called me immediately, and it was cancelled.
 But that left me with no card.
 We use ours for everything, then pay it off at the end of the month. (I refuse to pay interest on something I don't have to) But now my system was messed up.
 I only keep enough money in the checking account for a few basic things.
 And now that the credit card was unavailable I used the debit.
 And forgot that moving money to the proper account is sort of useful.

 Especially if you don't want to be standing at the grocery with over $100 worth of groceries and not be able to pay.

 I got online to my bank and transferred the money over. But by then I had gotten the password wrong on my debit several times (when I was first trying to figure out why it wasn't working) and the line behind me was horrendous.
 So the cashier dug through her drawer trying to find my coupons, and I sat there in complete embarrassment.

 We finally got the coupons back, got out the door with a small amount of my dignity intact, (but still no groceries), and went to the truck. At which time I started to feel just sick. So I checked my blood.

 27!!

Anyone who knows anything about diabetes can wonder why I hadn't passed out yet. But I hadn't, so I sat in the truck trying to find things to stuff in my face. I was seeing spots and things were blurring, but we found raisins and cranberries. A chocolate, down in the bottom of my purse.  And a moment of quiet.

 Canaan was as upset as I was. He is just old enough to be concerned about being able to pay the bills, and figuring out where money comes from and that it isn't un-ending. So I think he was also a little afraid. I realized that I was teaching them the complete WRONG way to respond.

 I stopped, and as he said, "This was the worst thing that could ever happen", I was able to give the proper response this time.

 "Not at all"

 I reminded them that we have each other, and they are all healthy and strong. My blood sugar was returning to safe levels as we spoke and we still have food at home.

 Then Canaan made it a special project to come up with disaster scenarios that would be worse then our day.

 "Lost in the desert, covered in boils and about to be kidnapped by aliens."
 "Already kidnapped by aliens and thrown into a pit with the (some monster from Star Wars) while still covered in boils and starving."

 And the list got even more creative then that!

 My blood sugar went back to normal, we got off base before rush hour, and we made it home with time to make dinner.

 But as we unloaded the truck from all the co-op supplies I realized that my little bag with a neatly organized box of coupons, divided by theme - well it wasn't there. Anywhere. After going to all that trouble to get my coupons back, I had lost the entire box.

 I think I may have cried at that point. 

 Ah well, what is money? Obviously with out CC being hacked and our debit card not working (because of my own failing), perhaps I was supposed to be learning a lesson about money.
 About dependence on it. 
 About trust in it.
 About living without it, or at least without as much of it. 
 About being reminded how very blessed we are, because our "living without money" was going a few days having to rearrange our accounts, rather then not having a job.

 Lessons are hard to learn. Sometimes they are even hard to find. Like, why in the world did the rest of my day have to be so difficult? So I could teach Canaan that there could always be worse and we have to trust no matter what? So that I would be better at finding the good, even in the moment I am most annoyed? Sigh

 But we are always learning. Sometimes we think we are "grown up" and should know everything we need to know. I have known Jesus my entire life. How in the world did I forget to trust Him for something as boring as groceries?

 So, a small moment of inconvenience in order to re-learn a lesson. I really can't complain.

 Although I did that evening, poor Andy! He loves me enough to sit and listen.

The next day on his way home from work, when Andy stopped at the commissary to pick up the few things he really needed while we were gone, he asked if anyone had turned in a bag of coupons. It was slightly mangled, and looked like it had probably been hit by a car, but it was there.
 The whole box, scissors and calculator included. Unable to be used, but full of all my saving potential.
 He stopped again on his way home, running into the local Walmart to buy me a newer, better box. He helped laminate dividers and label them clearly. The finished product is far better then the box I lost, and has the added bonus of being filled with love.

 I love that man.

 Money - an unfortunate necessity for feeding and clothing our children.
 Love - the best earthly thing imaginable.
 My Savior - The one who helps me remember how both those things rank.

 Hopefully I can be more organized for emergencies next time. Hopefully I can avoid blood sugars of 27 in the future. Maybe we'll go without spilled milk, broken heaters, and lost coupon boxes for the rest of time.
 But I doubt it.

 And you know what, that's okay!

 Because I know, and hopefully my children know now as well, that it sometimes feels like a "horrible, terrible, no good, very bad day". But within that moment is the reminder to take a moment and give thanks for everything we take for granted.

                                              Blessings my friends,
                                 Bethany

A flash in the pan

Today I had to deal with something that is rare for me.

 I, Bethany Ruth Freeman, quiet, soft-spoken, laid back and easy going, (although slightly hyperactive and definitely NOT shy) was angry. Anger is a rare emotion for me. 

 Seriously. 

 I not trying to be "holy holy" or anything - it's just not my personality to get angry. I get discouraged, and frustrated, moody or sad along with the rest of the world. But good old ANGER is a rarity for me. 

 Today I was plain old mad. 

 I was disappointed, and discouraged, and confused - unsure of what was next, and how to get there - but over all of that was just plain anger. 

 I guess I should back up a step and explain. 

 Andy has been working on his package to become an officer in the AF. He has worked really hard to finish his college (only two classes left, and he will graduate in March), has done lots of extra paperwork trying to prepare himself, and just recently took the AFOQT, which is a test, similar to the SAT that tests you on lots of different things. He got his score for that yesterday, and although it wasn't brilliant, it was sufficient. We were thinking positive thoughts about his package being accepted. 

 Today he had a meeting with a higher ranking person who told him that he does not feel that Andy's package is worth submitting. Every six months in the AF you get a "grade" basically. A number from 1-5, with 5 being the best. About 18 months ago, when Andy was last deployed, the person who was over him gave him a 4, rather than a 5. Andy was deployed - he didn't even find out about his "bad grade" until it had been turned in and was not able to be questioned. He did not give him a chance to ask why. He did not give him a reason for the 4. There was not "fix this, and I will give you a better score". Nothing. 

 That 4 has already been a huge bone of contention for us, because it was what kept Andy from getting Staff Sgt. last year. He had to wait another whole year for that rank, simply because of that 4. But, we dealt with it, and survived. But now, once again, because of that 4, we are being told we cannot have what we want. 

 So, some idiot, that I have never met, and never will meet, because he isn't even in the AF anymore - some idiot has been able to basically destroy the plans we had for our future. Without even giving a justification. If he had written out "Andy is awful at this, and failed at this, and deserves this 4 because...." I think I could handle it better. But he didn't. Or, if Andy had been in the same country with him when he wrote it, that would have made it easier to bear. He had worked with him in the past, but at the time it was written, they weren't even in the same country. 

 But when I stop, and take a deep breath, and read what I have written the part that stands out the most is "the plans WE had for our future". That is the part that makes me stop and think. And pray. 

 Obviously, Andy and I have prayed about this officer package a lot. Over and over we have prayed about it. But have we listened for an answer, or merely asked God to do what we wanted Him to do? We have asked Him for wisdom, but I can't be assured that we have taken the time for listen to that wisdom. 

 Right this minute, we have no other choice. Wait - Listen - Pray - and at least on my part, Forgive. That idiot, whoever he is, wherever he is, maybe he was just making it possible for God to get our attention. 

 I wish there was an easier way for God to get our attention, but while He has it, I hope I learn what I am supposed to learn. Please God, teach me. 

 Teach me.