Memoria Arts~ Life in the Making

The very happiest of Thanksgiving wishes to you!

 

    This time last year, I was in a quiet, reflective mood. I think I was still caught by the reality of nearly losing my life- time felt so very different. Crisper, faster, clearer. There was this awed grateful acknowledgment of God's grace that I was still living and breathing and moving, that I had children to love and care for, that I could still see my husband's face, and even more miraculous---two days before Thanksgiving, I discovered that a babe grew within me- my dear wee Josiah, who is now four (four! my goodness!) months old.

    Such a year has passed. It has been the scariest year of my life, but also the most amazing year of my life. God is good. He has shown Himself faithful over and over and over again. This year has not been about me. It's been about Him. His leading. His provision. He had to take me out into the desert so that I could hear His voice, still and small, calling on the wind. I can say, from the darkest, scariest, strangest place that God is good. All the time. It is not some trite little Sunday call and response to me anymore. It is the life I've lived for this life-changing year. Friends, don't wait until God has to drag you kicking and screaming into the desert so you can hear. You have a chance right now to believe that He is your everything. He is all you've ever needed, ever will need, all you've ever wanted. No matter how many times you fall down, no matter how dirty, no matter how broken, He loves you. Loves, loves, loves, beyond every measure, beyond what you can imagine, you- from the top of your beautiful head to your very tippy toes. Can you believe that? I do. I know.

    That is what I am thankful for: LIFE. His life. Life more abundantly. Life in a whole different way that I ever knew before. Eternal life. He died, so that I could LIVE. I am grateful for the Love that saved me.

    Have a wonderful, blessed, family-filled day, dear friends! I'll be back on Friday with our adventure to an 18th century Thanksgiving...did you know we can still time travel?

A week of celebration...

It's been quiet here while we slipped away to Virginia Beach to celebrate my husband's graduation. Everyone's giveaway packages will ship in the morning- I didn't get addresses in time to send them off before we left!

--

 I am so unbelievably proud of James. I've watched him work hard through the last two years to finish his degree in a shorter amount of time than it normally takes (he transferred to Strayer from ETSU). He's a daddy to five, runs a technology consulting business, and is active serving at our church. It's been a full, heavy load. Many, many late nights and early mornings, writing papers while cradling a baby...My heart about burst when we found out he would graduate magna cum laude. That was icing on the cake! 

Ben turned seven earlier in October, and David turned two last Monday. Nana (my mother-in-love) had her birthday too. Lots of cake and fun to be had! But we're sorta over cake now. You can have too much. (It's hard to believe, I know.)

Here are my favorite scenes from our week away:

 


 

To see and know...

I never would have thought it would draw to an end like this.

It marks a year, my little scribbling here today. A year since the world turned upside down and right side up and back again.

As I cuddle close Josiah, another baby rests near in my thoughts, cradled in my heart. We said goodbye just as we began to be aware of each other, and it happened so fast.

A year ago, I nearly died.

Three short weeks after that happened, my husband lost his job.

Had you asked me in those intervening days if I had thought we would be here today, I probably would have looked at you askance. I knew in my heart that God was in control, but I remember how dark and scary the way seemed.

Now I look back as I watch this year draw to a close and I see.

Miracles shine like dew drops along the path near the footsteps of the One who carried me through. Grace after grace, mercy after mercy, provision upon provision. In the face of grave uncertainty, every need has been answered and provided for. Every time we thought we were coming to the bottom, our jar was filled again.  I think of all the people along the way too, the ones who loved us, the ones who prayed, the ones who gave of their hearts in our time of need, and continue to bear our burdens with us...I stand amazed.

The blessing journal stands full of stories from this year, too many to count.

...Of health regained

...Of a heart turned towards Home

...Of the miracle of life

In the face of a messy economy and countless other trials, we never went hungry. We never lost our house. We never lost our joy. I watched others I knew lose everything, but we did not. Grace upon grace! I would never have thought that it would be twelve long months of fruitless searches as my husband tried to find a job, that even the gas stations and fast food places and retail stores would close in rapid succession like dominoes. And that he is searching still. I never would have imagined after the horror and loss of last August that I would be holding the most amazing miracle of a baby, counting his fingers and toes and kissing his sweet skin.

And here I stand at the close. What will the next twelve months, fifty two weeks, three hundred and sixty five days, bring?

All I know is this.

My God? He can do anything. He is in control. And I am His. That is all that matters. The rest is grace.

Seeing...

(This is a part of continuing poetry challenges over at LL's blog, Seedlings in Stone)

Slumber comes
inward floating down
dancing waters
rhythmic turn reaching
against starry night
stretch and grow

but in the darkness
fear and betrayal swim
swirling tempests
threatening to overcome

tossing and turning
flail I against the
emptiness
bedclothes tangle and catch

arm encircles
comforts, draws in
husbands heart beat pounds in ear
soothing slowing

tears wend ribbons
across skin down face
round curve
as I slip into sleep again

The scope of history...

 Watching my children watching our newly elected 44th president, I was finding it hard not to get emotional. I have heard my parents and grandparents talk of moments of history that they can never forget- Pearl Harbor, the day JFK died. In my own lifetime, I have experienced the horror of that day on 9/11/01. But today, a happy note has been added in that litany. Years from now, I will tell my grandchildren- "I remember when the first African American President was elected." Although I do not agree with the President on many factors and issues, I am deeply amazed and grateful to finally see this day come to fruition. I wish Dr. King had been alive to see it- and as I watched the wizened faces of the Tuskegee airmen on the platform, I wondered what they must have been thinking. I am thankful to see it happen in my lifetime. How proud I am to be an American today, and to witness this moment in history.

O LORD our Governor, whose glory is in all the world; We commend this nation to thy merciful care, that being guided by thy Providence, we may dwell secure in thy peace. Grant to THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES, and to all in Authority, wisdom and strength to know and to do thy will. Fill them with the love of truth and righteousness; and make them ever mindful of their calling to serve this people in thy fear; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who liveth and reigneth with thee and the Holy Ghost, one God, world without end. Amen.

                                 1928 Book of Common Prayer

Hello 2009! This New Year's was very unusual for us- normally we sort of muddle through, try not to fall asleep, and crawl into bed a minute past. This year, we were at a family reunion over the holiday. All 28 of us. The four siblings (of which my mom is the oldest), their spouses. Three children in my family, eight children in my aunt's family, two in my eldest uncle's family, and then one child of the youngest brother. Then, two spouses in this generation, mine, and Kim's. (My cousin.) Then my four kiddos.   Three generations. It was pretty cool, all in all. Except for the loving stomach bug we passed from family to family. That, we could have done without!
    On New Year's Eve, we had a family communion time. All of the heads of households shared a verse or two, and what it had meant in our family lives that year. After that we spent some time in prayer, and then celebrated communion. It felt right, for the change of the year. I remember sitting there thinking that there was nowhere else I would rather have been at that very moment. I couldn't help but think of the legacy of my grandparents, and how God has bound up the broken places in our family, and how it was amazing that we were all sitting there, not only getting along, but praising God together. That's a miracle in and of itself much anymore!
    It's really gotten me to thinking about the ties that bind us together, both as biological families and as spiritual families. The people we are in community with on a day to day basis. Those people who love and support you and cheer you on. I know that I tend to take these people for granted- it's easy to do in the day to day living of life- but, man, what an effect they have each had on my lives over the years. It was nice to have this time set apart to remember and appreciate my own family members, but also the 'lights along the path' of my life. I've been thinking about Hebrews 12:1-3:

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured such opposition from sinful men, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.

It is such a fitting verse for entering into a new year, filled with new possibilities, dilemmas, races to be run. Here's to cheering you on in 2009!

Photo by G.B.C. Used with permission. 

All things connected...

You repair all that we have torn apart and
You unveil a new beginning in our hearts and
We stand grateful for all that has been left behind and
All that goes before us
-Watermark, "Mended"

Broken toys are a common sight around here. A wheel missing here, an arm missing there. Shattered pieces of a play thing much loved and much abused often pepper the floor of the playroom. Woe to the unsuspecting parent that happens upon these land mines of play- feet cry out in pain as the Legos dig deep into flesh.
    It sounds familiar to this woman made of clay. Broken dreams, broken thoughts, broken pieces of life, much loved and much abused. Scattered like emotional land mines, upon which an unsuspecting loved one or friend happens upon, leaving scarred and wary of the path they walk with me.
    The broken moments happen in the midst of living life. A choice here, a choice there. A decision made. Then, unsuspecting, a shard catches, tears at the fabric of life, and I am left holding tatters and rags that barely semblance the life I led before. Gathered up with grief, I work at slowly stitching back together the fabric of my life. The stiches are odd, uneven, rough. Sometimes, there are gaping holes which I cannot repair. And eventually, I remember that I am not the tailor, and I take it to the One who is. The Master leans over His work, lovingly repairing the broken places with a deft hand, gentle and true.
    There is so much to be repaired. Prayers for restoration and forgiveness for years seem to go unanswered, a relationships falls into a black hole of disrepair that seems to have no resolution. And I despair. I despair of my foolishness, of my failings. The holes, rent and torn, seem to grow larger.
    Reconcilliation and forgiveness is an interesting process. At first, it is so painful, that the pain seems larger and fresher than it was during the first go-around. The gashes seem to grow till they nearly overcome. Like a seam ripper, it tears through the stitches of your life. The anger and hurt, the reasons for the gash in the first place surface, and it's all you can do to hold on through the pain. And then, the fabric starts to come together. The stitches fall, even and true, and grace abounds. Peace abounds. Memories of the good things fall like raindrops, salve upon the fresh stitches, healing, restoring.
    I don't know where it goes from here. This journey is fresh upon the path.  I am amazed that God could have restored something so broken and bereft. It is gift enough. 

The gift of sight...

Gratitude is truly a process, a practice, a way of seeing.

I've been a wee bit too busy to sit at the computer and type my list of gratitude out, or even to write it out longhand in my journal. I know that there are gifts that have slipped through my fingers. Even without the words, though, I know that my perspective has changed from where it used to be.

I pause.
I savor.
I acknowledge.

The fleeting rays of golden orange and royal purple, a glorious sunset finishing out a day.

Birds flying overhead to their nests each day, reminding me that "His eye is on the sparrow, and I know he watches me."

The gentle drip of a coffee maker as it starts the day, reminding me of rhythms.

The delicious scent of my sweet baby's neck, which if I kiss just right, sends David into fits of giggles and laughter, that reminds me to rejoice in the simple being here, in the right now.

The smile on Ben's face as he finishes his math. He drinks it in, those numbers. He loves to tell me how it fits together, how many of this and that. I smile and remind him and myself that the God who made those numbers will always be True, always add up.

Isaiah jubilantly shouting lyrics of much loved hymns from the back seat of the car- this one truly understands the joy of the Lord, and reminds me to just sing and praise!

The lisping, happy speech of Lorelei, as she blesses each of us: "pitty mommy", "lovey daddy", "ooo a tay Ben?" (You ok, Ben?). She makes us want our speech to be honorable and honey-like.

Did I mention David's smile?

For the strong, soft arms of my husband, as he has sheltered me in the emotional upheaval of this last month. I am so safe there. So many prayers has he whispered into my hair as I have grieved.

For friends, new and old.

Friends with whom you've just met, but you talk well into the wee hours of the morning, like long lost sisters. Who challenge you and remind you to put on the armor of righteousness and gird your loins with His truth.

Friends who share your loves...friends whom you've prayed for, for nearly eight years. Prayers answered.  And prayers answered in ways so far and above anything you could possibly imagined, that you know that their coming is a gift only from God's hand.

I've caught myself a few times. I get rough, sharp. Angry a bit. And then the old song whispers through my cluttered, broken thoughts:

"Count your blessings,
name them one by one,
count your blessings,
see what God has done."

It is changing my life. He is changing my life. He is changing my blindness into sight. Blessed indeed.

Waiting...

  The blood tests came back yesterday afternoon...the hormone levels increased only by a half instead of doubling. The uncertainty is clawing at the corners of my heart. The grief...it seeks to overwhelm. I am leaving for the doctor's appointment that will answer so many questions. I don't know what these next hours hold. But I do know that my dear Abba is Faithful, and that He is holding me close in this tempest. This is, this is, my  God's Plan A for my life. I will cling to Him. He will carry me through.
In my darkest hours, I have found myself praying, crying, and creating. Visual prayers, visual promises. This is my offering, my tithe. The paper, so thin, so fragile, the paint running where I would will it not...how it echoed my heart in these moments.

Searching for words...

Dear One, I didn't even know you were there. I don't know if you are there still. The doctors aren't sure. We are waiting and watching. I don't know if I have lost you already or if you are just starting to grow. I am scared, dearest one. I bled internally, and something is wrong with my right ovary. But my blood says you are within me, even though they cannot see you. They want to watch, to see if my HcG levels double, meaning you are still with us. They wanted to do surgery to evaluate the bleeding, to make sure if mommy was okay. But they wanted to wait. To give you a chance to grow... you and I are resting in God's Almighty Healing hand, dear one. I love you.

*******

Please pray for my health, for the unknown baby's health, for healing within the ovary, and that no more bleeding into the abdominal space occurs. That the doctors will be given wisdom in my care, for the emotional upheaval happening within my heart, for my husband and children...

We wait in hope for the LORD;
he is our help and our shield.
In him our hearts rejoice,
for we trust in his holy name.
May your unfailing love rest upon us,
O LORD, even as we put our hope in you.
Psalm 33:20-22 NIV

{Picture from November 2005, pregnant with Lorelei}