I'm learning

It seems to be a common two-word statement out of my mouth these days: "I'm learning." I've spent the (almost) last year working in (almost) full-time ministry work and I guess I thought I'd just all of a sudden know how to navigate the ups, downs, conversations, challenges, changes with ease and grace.

But, uh, yep - I was a bit full of it.


In a way, it's good that I'm learning this only a year into the journey... some go their whole lives trying to juggle everything, fit themselves into a thousand tiny little boxes of who and what they are supposed to be, mostly according to the people they lead. 


Thanks to the words of a wise friend, I am moving forward in the journey of realizing that my job description is summed up in a few words: bending only to Him and His voice. That's what I'm called to. My job is to fall so fully in love with my Father, to be loved by Him as I am, and allow Him to transform me more and more into "Ellie", and by doing so, releasing Him to transform those around me too. Here are a few things I'm learning about myself on this journey:


I've got a heart to please. What I'm learning is that He formed this aspect of my personality for His glory, not mine. I naturally want to please others and fit myself inside all their expectations, so that at the end of the day I can rest easy knowing that I am well liked, loved, appreciated. Honestly, it has never been about the good of others - it has been for my benefit. Jesus showed this to me the other day: 

We who are strong have an obligation to bear with the failings of the weak, and not to please ourselves. Let each of us please his neighbor for his good, to build him up. For Christ did not please himself, but as it is written, “The reproaches of those who reproached you fell on me.” -Romans 15:1-3

So that's where the dysfunction manifests itself: selfishness. And the irony of all of this is that I say I'm a people pleaser, but actually, I'm me-pleaser. But I'm so glad He is my example... "He did not please himself..." (vs. 3). 


I need to take time to rest. My passion dies when I'm tired. My compassion dies when I'm tired. I lose my joy when I'm tired. But I also, far too often, listen more to the taskmasters in my head than to Jesus. Jesus, calling me to come and just be with Him for a while. To slow down, take some time to breathe, change things up, have fun creating something I enjoy. I'm learning to practice this: tonight, I'm going home and making some of Granny's Tea Biscuits (courtesy of Ann Voskamp's Granny), just for fun.


Gratitude, in all circumstances. It really works. Two Octobers ago, I began my own gratitude journal. You've seen some of my list - the recording of all these gifts, given freely to me, the thousand ways He loves. I'm learning to really believe it is true: He loves me, adores me, lavishly. But even so, some days I just find it such a chore to open that journal of mine. These are usually the days I end up seeing everything through grey-coloured glasses. Today was one of those days. I struggle so much with desiring to do that which is for my own good. I'm a stubborn and prideful creature. So I write this, in hope, that I would continue to learn to be obedient:

“Enter His gates with thanksgiving and His courts with praise” (Ps 100:4) 

“You are my God, and I will give you thanks” (Ps 118:28)

“Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God” (Phil 4:6)

“All this is for your benefit, so that the grace that is reaching more and more people may cause thanksgiving to overflow to the glory of God.” (2 Cor 4:15)

So, all of this is to say... yep, I'm learning.

The words have been slow coming

It has been a fruitful winter.

I'm seeing now, spring popping up, all over lawns in our little seaside village. The air is less shockingly chilled, and things are warming, surely and gently.

I have close been working, for almost a year, as navigator of a growing ministry that's been a challenge and salve to my heart both.

A challenge because of what I've been learning, and unlearning. Learning grace, unlearning self-sufficiency. Learning trust, unlearning fear. Learning faith, unlearning unbelief.

And a salve because somehow, loving and being loved by children has been His way of showing me that my story is significant and won't return to Him void.

“As the heavens are higher than the earth,
so are my ways higher than your ways
and my thoughts than your thoughts.

 As the rain and the snow
   come down from heaven,
and do not return to it
   without watering the earth
and making it bud and flourish,
   so that it yields seed for the sower and bread for the eater,  

so is my word that goes out from my mouth:
   It will not return to me empty,
but will accomplish what I desire
   and achieve the purpose for which I sent it."
{Isaiah 55:9-11 NIV}

And so it feels a bit like spring is blooming inside of me as much as outside.

recently

here are some glimpses of where I've been lately ... by way of my list {glimpses of # 180-432}

winter...
|| the liberty of obedience, seeing another live it out
|| green tea in a green mug
|| flexible days and time to study, all given
|| clouds rolling in
|| her laughter, and what it means
|| calm puppy sleepy time
|| not-so-calm puppy sleepy time
|| that he hasn't fully destroyed the house
|| durable trim *sigh*

spring...
|| peeking blue sky
|| "the righteous will live by faith" Romans 1:17
|| the hard decisions
|| the asking for peace
|| the peace that follows humility & servanthood
|| my dancing friend
|| the pride & joy smile
|| new opportunities making clear a new path
|| bosses & supervisors that understand changes of plans
|| that He hears my heart!
|| time and adventures with friends He has called home
|| Patience - truly GIVEN -  it is NOT mine!
|| that He softens me, exchanges my stone-heart for flesh-heart... and yes, that means pain
|| fence posts like soldiers
|| tulips gracing bookshelf
|| family time, how He has unfolded it to be beautiful
|| a friend safely home & healed
|| apple pie for breakfast
|| that I am clean, His child, His friend
|| the Cross
|| a new job!
|| Oh, that He would give this to me! And that He is using me!
|| bravery, prophesied & being fulfilled in me
|| bowling parties
|| "remain in Me, and I will remain in you" John 15:4
|| surprise daffodils
|| an answer to my question... "how can I remain in You?" ... and it is to look, and see Him everywhere, this is the making of my list, gratitude, eucharisteo
|| a year later, a less excruciating sorrow
|| so much love from my Cross-family... scones, cards, kind words, God-words
|| more to give away
|| little birdie held up, and me too
|| a little friend's "I love you SOOOOO much", written in chalk on pavement
|| stuffy nose
|| the continual reminder to not rely on myself
|| "there is no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus"
|| that we are jewels in His crown
|| "that must be a pretty big crown!!"
|| community, being formed, and that we get to be a part of it
|| tears
|| that they are counted and kept
|| the "I know" and "I'm here" of God
|| heads held high
|| "Happy Easter" notes from little friends
|| baby nephew born healthy!
|| beach view and tide out
|| kingdom on Oprah
|| baking soda

summer...
|| lawnmower
|| enough to feed many mouths
|| oatmeal with bananas
|| "a new and living way opened for us through the curtain, that is, his body"
                his body, broken for me
                             take, and eat
|| little rainbows on paper
|| puppy with green tongue :)
|| hot water boiling
|| even the bed He provides
|| the generosity of friends
|| little ones come, all at once, a glimpse of kingdom here on earth
|| that I could step back and see that
|| that He sees details I don't, and takes care of them
|| travel to a far-away land & airplane rides
|| clouds? ice? Greenland? ... that the guessing is okay :)
|| brave mama
|| laughter of him and her
|| cobble stone streets
|| sunshine, out to play!
|| family that cares
|| day spent as princess in a castle!
|| rain on Paris streets
|| the city of love
|| roadtrips across Europe
|| a hubby who enjoys me, and whom I enjoy!
|| laughter and jokes at 1AM, just me and him

and #433: how He has used the story of a far-away sister who I've never met to help hold me up and walk through the unthinkable

"{She} who sacrifices thank offerings honors me, and {she} prepares the way so that I may show {her} the salvation of God." Psalm 50:23

May this continue to prepare the way, Lord!

two years, and approaching the one year

Today marks the second full year I have been {his}...

We haven't had it very easy, we have wrestled and fought and struggled through our junk...but every day I see that he is perfect for me, God's very best.

He is patient with me, and kind. He carries the weight of so much so that I don't have to. He listens to me, like really listens, and offers wisdom... And he has walked with me through the most harrowing valley I have ever known... one which is approaching an anniversary as well.

The pain is less raw these days, less at the forefront of my thoughts. I am missing Dad, yes, and long to see him just once more, but I can feel that the sorrow is being restored to joy.

I was thinking, this morning, about the Scripture we had read at his funeral...

Psalm 27

 Of David.

The LORD is my light and my salvation— whom shall I fear? The LORD is the stronghold of my life— of whom shall I be afraid?

    ² When evil men advance against me to devour my flesh, when my enemies and my foes attack me, they will stumble and fall.

    ³ Though an army besiege me, my heart will not fear; though war break out against me, even then will I be confident.

   

 ⁴One thing I ask of the LORD, this is what I seek: that I may dwell in the house of the LORD all the days of my life, to gaze upon the beauty of the LORD and to seek him in his temple.

 

    ⁵ For in the day of trouble he will keep me safe in his dwelling; he will hide me in the shelter of his tabernacle and set me high upon a rock.

    ⁶ Then my head will be exalted above the enemies who surround me; at his tabernacle will I sacrifice with shouts of joy; I will sing and make music to the LORD.

   

 ⁷Hear my voice when I call, O LORD; be merciful to me and answer me.

    ⁸ My heart says of you, Seek his face! Your face, LORD, I will seek.

    ⁹ Do not hide your face from me, do not turn your servant away in anger; you have been my helper. Do not reject me or forsake me, O God my Saviour.

 

    ¹⁰ Though my father and mother forsake me, the LORD will receive me.

 

    ¹¹ Teach me your way, O LORD; lead me in a straight path because of my oppressors.

    ¹² Do not hand me over to the desire of my foes, for false witnesses rise up against me, breathing out violence.

   

 ¹³I am still confident of this: I will see the goodness of the LORD in the land of the living.

 

    ¹⁴ Wait for the LORD; be strong and take heart and wait for the LORD.

(NIVUK)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It's just floored me, how the Lord has used this word to speak into my life over the last (almost) year. Yes, truly.... I am still confident of this: I will see the goodness of the LORD in the land of the living (v. 13).

And so I give thanks; for this year, this journey that I didn't ask for, this man who has braved the barren valley with me...

This is how I am seeing the goodness of the LORD even still...

|| husband love

|| that smile of his

|| the snow capped peaks that I get to drive through each day
|| polite paws crossed
|| pretty blooms emerging all over lawn
|| a car that doesn't get stuck in snow
|| runny noses and little ones who need them wiped
|| snuggles with puppy
|| friends who read my words and encourage me to keep them coming
|| connections... the kinship of grief and loss
|| the ones who tenderly show me that they remember the one year
|| His peace, over and over again, His peace
|| His beauty here, now, and that by looking I can see it

on giving thanks

in joining with the many, many women practicing gratitude
inspired by her & her story
being transformed and healed through the looking...


i give you some glimpses of
my list... as it is this moment


|| evening light on water
|| a certain doggy all covered in white snowflakes
|| the leash that makes him a dream to walk and...
|| the treat that keeps him occupied


|| the knowing... how she can just know when i need an ear
|| friend time... always laughter
|| His provision in ALL things
|| a box of free apples
|| a sink full of dishes, because it means we have eaten
|| fridge full, cupboards stuffed


|| my home with him
|| deep love
|| that He teaches even through impossible seasons difficult with strife -- Yes, He teaches!


|| His peace
|| His grip on my life, on daddy's life
|| the healing that comes in the pain of reminiscing
|| "how great Thou Art"


|| the asking, "please speak to me through your Word"
|| the speaking
|| Christ the wisdom & power of God

|| the good conviction all the way through a sermon
|| a man's 'thanks so much' and what it means... a heart opening to God's people


|| "life is not an emergency" (-ann voskamp)... that I can slow...

|| black branch silhouette against cobalt skies
|| tiny twigs
|| salty beach breeze

a new year

2011 is here. It has been a while since I have had time to write.

Christmas was bittersweet. Seven days spent on the beach in the blazing Mexican sun, with my 'new' family -- my wonderful, warm, compassionate in-laws. It was a gift-trip, a Sabbath week, a time of grace given to us by my husband's incredibly generous grandparents. They are getting on in years, frail and fragile people, but so kind and I do feel like I am their's - their granddaughter, and loved.

Also awkward conversations that birthed insecurity and sadness, followed by tears alone in our hotel room in my husband's arms, but then grace. Grace upon grace, and good, encouraging conversations... Grace gives us room, room to heal, room to let go - grace gives me room to be myself.

Our time away was just what we needed. And I asked Him throughout if He would give us excitement, anticipation for coming home. He did.

What followed upon our return was a handful of really hard days. Call it a woman-thing, call it grief, call it stress... whatever it was, I was sad. I bawled for several hours one night, frustration and suffocation and sorrow and anger collided and left me in the fetal position. But my husband held me again, and let me cry, and told me we were going to be alright, that I have been hurt and so the wounds can tear open again with even a small thing. He is right.

I love him.

I am having better days, now. I love my job, my little buddy is a joy to work with and it is so rewarding to see him succeed. What a gift.

I am learning that it is okay to be vulnerable, and it is necessary in order to connect in community. I want to be a whole-hearted person. {Click the link and watch the video. It is worth the 20 minutes}

Already I have seen the answer to my prayer for a friend -- He has given many.

2011 is here, and I am here. I have a good Father who hears what I ask for even in the silly, back-of-my-mind desires, and speaks to me in ways that I can hear.

And all the time, grace.

Grace upon grace, and He sustains me.

christmas

My dad's birthday is on Christmas day.

Yep. It's true.

See the birthday balloons in the background?

That means however awful the holidays were going to be, multiply that by an impossible number and you'll get the what's-left-for-us-to-celebrate-anymore heartache that I am overwhelmed by often.

Perhaps it sounds insensitive, but I never thought I would be one of them: the ones who just can't do Christmas like everyone else because it hurts too much.

But now I am one of them. I miss my dad more than I even knew I could ever miss someone. I often find myself desperately looking for him, seeing a truck from a distance that looks like his (and sometimes with a driver who resembles him closely), going places I once went with him, wishing that just one more time, he could be there.

And Christmas is never going to be the same. I want to say that it won't ever be good again, but I am hoping.

I'm hoping that though the pain is so real, this will be redeemed.

The void left in my family. The destruction left in the wake of destruction. The hurtful words that have been spoken to us by those who should have spoken love & grace. The what's-left-for-us-to-celebrate-anymore heartache that hopefully, won't always overwhelm. The incredible abyss of loneliness, and the fear of community that keeps me from reaching out.

I'm holding on to my precious, valiant Jesus, hoping.

I am struggling, this is true. But I'm holding on, for dear life.

peace

I was at my church several weeks after that day for a fundraiser and my pastor made eye contact with me for a short moment. I was trying to mill about and keep busy, while pleading silently for someone - anyone - to ask me how I was.


You might know how that goes - wanting to be alone and to be noticed & cared for all at once.


He walked over and answered my silent pleading. "How are you doing?" he asked. I was standing with my sister, and so I looked at her, wondering if she would answer first so I could dig for words. My heart was so raw, but looking ahead somehow, hopeful. I think I answered something akin to "so-so".


Then he asked us what he could pray for, for us.


"Peace," I answered.


It has been such a fleeting thing over the last eight months.


But I think I have just realized it.


I have been so awful to be around. I'm convinced I inheirited my dad's restless nature, and that thing - whatever it was - that made him on edge all the time, and hard on people. I get nasty if I am under stress, I get resentful if I feel under-appreciated. And wow, I blame other people for everything that goes wrong. It has been the root of dishonour and disunity in our home, in my relationship with my husband and our housemate. I have allowed things to get ugly.


One morning a few days ago, I read this:

"Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid." John 14:27

My heart softened as I was reading His words, His promise to me.


My peace I give to you.


I've allowed my heart to become troubled. But really, to be able to extend grace to those around me (which perhaps is a part of the issue here, I have forgotten how to give grace), I don't need anything more than what He has already promised and given. His peace.


His peace in the midst of chaos... dirty dishes, dirty floor, dirty bathroom, dirty laundry.


His peace despite the profound pain of never knowing why my dad did what he did.


His peace as a balm for my very broken heart.


And so, I ask for it again & again & again.


Will you join me?

acknowledged

After a conversation with a friend on frustration and alone-ness in this season, she passed on to me a post from To Write Love on Her Arms from November 20.

November 20 was National Survivors of Suicide Day.

Along with the post, she had found a list of resources on suicide, way more than I have ever been able to find. And at the top of the list were several online support groups for survivors.

Sometimes I feel like hiding what has happened - talking about it is just too huge and painful and awful. Perhaps that is because almost anyone I can potentially talk to has never lived it.

But somehow, the thought of opening up to others who know this grief, it came as a relief.

To know I am not alone, that my family is not alone, that our grief is different and that's okay... it helps.

And what Reese Butler says in that post..."The greatest honor and tribute I could give [her] was to become as healthy and productive as possible and use the power of that loss to help others not suffer the same fate. Loss can trigger in those left behind powerful emotions that if channeled can move mountains."

When I read that, something clicked.

I don't have to keep dwelling on the pain, although that is legitimate and good for a time. I want my emotions and my grief to be used for something. I want to be healthy and productive and - as trite as it may sound - happy again.

So I guess that starts with the opening, the honesty, the community.

why i write

I don't know if the title of my blog is curious to you.

But I want to speak to it, my writing of words and how this is a healthy new season for me. Or at least the first steps toward it.

I have always loved writing.

But I am also a perfectionist, and want what I create to be good. The best. I love being the very best.

I set myself up for failure because I can't always be that. And my words run dry because I can't write up to my own expectations. Or perhaps I can, and do, but in the process I lose the gift that expressing myself in the written word truly is, to me. I get so distracted by impressing others that I completely forget the necessary: making myself small and seeking to meet God in the gifts he has given me. Instead I tend to make myself big and seek a name, a reputation, an applause.

So, and unintentionally I think, about a year and a half ago I took a break. I lost my words for a season, or at least the motivation to put them on paper.

And in the midst of that season, I lost my dad.

I was the strong one in my family, for the first few months at least. I was the strong one, for everyone else, and then when taken away from people, the sadness would overwhelm me completely. I pretended to be okay, thought I was grieving in a healthy way, but I. Was. Not. It took a couple of visits to a counsellor to really get this through my thick skull.

My confession is this: I don't think I started this blog with the best intentions. I really don't. I wanted to use it to commend myself, to build myself up. And I don't think I am ever really that great at being honest with others about what I'm feeling and instead try to put a pretty face on it in an effort to convince them that this life with Jesus, it is what they need -- and even more so, that I am great, worthy, talented, the best. I am tired of trying so hard!

So I have begun giving those efforts up. Letting go.

And I want this place to be one where I am free to put my thoughts, sorrows, and joys into words without fear of what others may judge about me. I want this to be a freeing place. I can't think of a time when my expression and creativity has actually been freeing. But I know that it is possible.

And that is why I have subtitled this blog "learning to live, love, walk & WRITE on the other side of tragedy"... I want to learn to write, again, and in some ways, for the very first time.

May Jesus use this to restore & heal & give freedom.

Photo: http://www.kings.uwo.ca/pt5/assets/Image/academics/write_place/quill.jpg

these days

It was my birthday yesterday, my 21st. My husband schemed secret plans with friends I didn't even know were in town and got me out of the house long enough to move in a brand new sofa! 'Twas very exciting, and just such a good day.

It was hard to watch it end, though.

I find myself really clinging to these good days, because the bad ones just seem much more common, and magnified.

I know that God has made each one of my days before they come to be. I know... and remembering this, finding and listing blessings each day, it helps me.

But the bad days can just seem so bad.

And even in the midst of a good day, there is still a nagging sorrow that hangs over my heart.

I can't escape the fact that my dad is gone, and he chose to go.



I listened to the audio recording of the funeral the other day. I was alone in the house, and just sat with my journal and listed things I was thankful for in the midst of all of this... otherwise I may have lost it. Gratitude...

One of the things God brought to mind, was something I think He began bringing to mind shortly after the initial trauma wore off - and it was just a deep hope that Jesus knew him, He really knew him. I honestly don't know how all of this works, if dad is with Jesus right now, and I don't know what you believe about that so I hope no one takes offence when I talk about this.

(Please stay with me as I try to stammer this out.)

I think my dad knew Jesus, but I don't think you could say he walked with Him. I've thought a lot about this, and I will be frank in saying that I don't know what that will mean for eternity for him.

But I do, I do, trust the character of my Jesus. I trust that He is just, and I trust that He is mercy. And as much as it hurts, I trust Him to decide what He needs to decide about my dad's life.

What I am trying to say, though, is how thankful I am for the way God unfolded the seasons of my dad's life on earth, and how He drew him to Himself. I am so thankful for his childhood in the church, and even though he spoke to me about how he grew up experiencing confusion about salvation, I have a deep hope He placed his faith in Christ during that time.

And I am so thankful for the season we spent attending church as a family, and how his faith was solidified and nurtured during our time there.

His doubts, struggles, and confusions notwithstanding, Jesus knew him. He really knew him. And that comforts me, deepens my hope.

This post didn't really turn out the way I thought it would, but there it is.

there is goodness

There is goodness in this
life, pain, suffering,
having to walk through a thicket of grief,
grieving my father, my daddy, and the hope I had for his life,
gone, gone, gone

and there is good here?!

there is,
that's the promise


oh Your promises, Jesus
to restore, to heal, to perfect

that is the goodness in this
life, pain, suffering

because You are here, here, here

the first post

so, i am not new to blogging

but i have been waiting to begin this, waiting, waiting
because I don't want to exploit my story,

and perhaps i will share it soon

but until then, this is a space where I can
write
because i'm told
that writing
is good for the soul