Joy comes in the morning

And this morning – I woke with joy. Anticipation for my little boy’s return. I light the tree. Unclutter the front entrance. Sweep the living room. Light the fire. Perk the coffee. Light the oil lamps. The light outside is still dark – the water is calm, the surf is quiet. Was it the eclipse? Wondering what the eclipse did to the surf line.

I turn on Lil Boy Blue (The New to Me G4 IBook) and stream Lighthouse Radio. Nancy Lee DeMoss is on with a word of encouragement. Dave comes on and even apologies for being so peppy at 6:02.  Why apologize for being peppy? I like Peppy.

This morning’s verse is from 2 Corinthians 3 – He reads the entire passage.  My heart swells as the Spirit inside me gets excited as the paragraph comes to an end with the following -

¹⁶But whenever a person turns [in repentance] to the Lord, the veil is stripped off and taken away.

¹⁷Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty (emancipation from bondage, freedom).^(D)

¹⁸And all of us, as with unveiled face, [because we] continued to behold [in the Word of God] as in a mirror the glory of the Lord, are constantly being transfigured into His very own image in ever increasing splendor and from one degree of glory to another; [for this comes] from the Lord [Who is] the Spirit.

Freedom. In the Spirit. Boldness  More bold than Moses – to speak truth. We have freedom to be bold. . . Do we practice this freedom?

I cried my way through the evening last night. Those dratted quiet streams of water that leak. Swelling of sorrow in my chest. Softened by the comfort of my honey and the words of a friend. I fell to sleep early-ish – missed the eclipse. 50 minutes til my sons return.

And yet, It could be moments until The Son’s Return. Are our houses ready? Is our anticipation great? Are our lamps lit? Are our fires burning? Are our words Bold? Is the House ready?

Is it any wonder that God has given the mom the passion and desire to ready the house for company and the return of family? As He quickens our hearts for the return of His Son.

Hebrews 13:5

Let your conversation be without covetousness; and be content with such things as you have: for he has said, I will never leave you, nor forsake you.

My heart Rests in Christ.

The week of Christmas

and my heart is torn and aching a little.

Oh – it’s easy to say we don’t really celebrate Christmas. We prefer a simple Christmas. We like to keep it quiet. We realize it’s not really Christ’s Birthday.

But.

We also live in America. Next to people with double incomes and credit accounts. With commercials on TV and Movies and TV Shows with dozens of presents under the tree.

Its hard to wrap joy. Wrap Bird Watching Every Day. Wrap Bills that are paid. Wrap Rent that is current. Wrap frozen chicken in the freezer, or the Gas for the Heater or the Car. Hard to wrap a checking account that is in the Black – even if by only a few dollars.

We were gifted with cards from church – a gift from a grandmother – and a gift from my parents this year. In my book – we will have a small beautiful celebration this week. There will not be “without”.

But I have a little boy. Who has been exposed for the last 4 days to a world he has never seen. Even in Bend. Where not only is money no object – but the desire for it to be shown is bold. At least in Bend, everyone seemed to hide the money that was paying the mortgages with grungy SUV’s and Snow Board Pants.

I have a little boy with a big heart. Who wants to give. Who has people on his prayer list that have real needs. Power Turned Off. Child Lost in Death. Children without food. And he sees a mother purchase $75.00 earrings for a 6 year old daughter. He sees the extravagance of a 20+foot tree laden with presents for two small children. And he wants to give. His heart hurts. He calls me with a weak small sobbing voice. We cry together on the phone. He will be home Lord Willing in my arms in the morning at 8.

The idea and reality of a simple Christmas is marvelous. I wouldn’t want anything different. If we were laden with abunance in a savings account – I wouldn’t want to load the bottom of the tree with plastic trinkets.

My heart is broken – because my son’s heart is broken. He has seen the World. He has seen self indulgence. How he never seemed to be exposed to it in Bend I’ll never know.  I’ve asked my other son tonight how he handled it in Bend.  He said he was just glad he got to play with all the toys of his friends. He felt co-ownership with his best friend’s abundance.

Hubby came home from work while I was trying to type this out. I got to cry it out with him. There isn’t anything to sort out – we live a very blessed life – just an almost cashless one.

Every day I wake up, watch the Blue Herons dance with the White Egrets over the lake and sip my coffee with my warm feet and feel so everlasting thankful for being in this home, and pray for those around the world – waking to pain and suffering. So please hear my heart. It just hurts. Cause my son’s hurts. Tomorrow morning could not come soon enough.

Re-Fresh Button

I came home from a large event yesterday and fell to my chair in an exhausted heap. I can share that I have given my all – everything I knew to give – and now the project is over.  I slept for a couple of hours – and then got up to hit the refresh button on the house.

Straightening the building that has been used for gatherings each week, and lovingly tending it back into a home – a nourishing – refreshing home.

I can not express in few words – or maybe even in much words – the growth and change that has occurred in my heart these past months.

I have been side tracked by Blogs, Facebook, Twitter, Lego Clubs.

In spending the evening going from room to room, straightening, cleaning, purging,

My mind was continually drawn to the Blogs – Online Time -

Wondering, what other things in my life have I allowed to come in, take time, and side track.

I enjoy reading the blogs, and commenting. I enjoy the comments I receive. I enjoy knowing what my friends are up to on Facebook. I enjoy sharing my  life.

But I am constantly pulled to realizing – that in the focus of sharing the life, I have stopped living mine. I know. It doesn’t make sense.

I don’t seem to have the energy, prioritizing skills, or knowledge to know how to participate in other’s lives, and still have a really fun cool, growing, refreshing life of my own.

I’m going to take the next 3 weeks to get ready for January.

To reflect and slow down.

To become a hermit of sorts.

To pray and Seek His Face in the next steps of my life.

Knowing that the steps that I take deeply and everlastingly effect those of my family.

I am reminded this morning of John 10, 3-4 and Psalm 139 – that He calls us out. He leads us. He has us Hedged In on All Sides. He knows, and I am unable to understand.

I am feeling the pull to change my blogging style back to that of where I started. When I only had 2 readers. When I wasn’t aware of format and grammar and too many pictures, or too few pictures, or writing for sponsors or writing for memes. Just writing. Because I woke up every day – like today – with words. and Typing at over 100 words a minute comes easier than italic handwriting in a small notebook.

This morning I logged back into my Pebblekeeper.spaces.live.com site – to remember where I’ve been – and it asked to merge with my wordpress blog. There is a new category bar on the right hand side there. I’ll be moving those old posts around.

You may not see much of a change as a reader, as you have already seen the amount of blog posts may decrease.

My brain is mud today. So many thoughts. I have a desire to be transparent on this site – but boring you with the inner workings of how I transition -

I am going to be deleting more on

Suffering–Identifying with Christ

Knowing the full picture, having a simple solution, sharing the skills of how to – yet, those you share solutions with have their own ideas. They come to the table thinking they know. Based on what has gone on before – not knowing what is coming ahead. Some will head the wisdom of those who know, and some will not. In the Judging, some knew the truth and chose not to use it. Some knew the truth and chose not to speak it. Some were unable to articulate what they had learned. It was clear that several had not found joy in the journey. And I think of Christ. Knowing the full story. Knowing what the end is to be. Trying so desperately to to tell the disciples, and yet, when they heard it, they asked other questions. Brought up selfish pleadings, slept when they should have stood. And Christ, The Holy Spirit, Drew me a beautiful but heartbreaking picture of Suffering this morning. Suffering isn’t bank account amounts, flat tires, lost jobs, frozen spring plants, dry fields, or hurt feelings from friends.

Christ’s suffering is in the knowing – the sharing – and seeing full picture. Knowing who is soaking it in, remembering it all, and sharing with others. Knowing who is listening but not taking it. Knowing who will not share the information with others. Knowing who will take everything He has said and twist it into their own path, based on their own self perceived need. Knowing – that they will stand before judges here on earth, and before his Father in Heaven. And that the earthly judges will only bring condemnation. They will never understand what really happens inside the heart. They will see a slice of life and judge harshly, or praise too easily. Only the Father in Heaven will know, will ever know what the person truly believes. Christ, in this knowing and sharing, giving his very life to share the Good News that His death and resurrection is the path to the Father, no matter what anyone thinks they know, or read, or have been taught  - and seeing –through to the end – the rejection by unbelieving people – the Ack. I can’t type it out.

The Suffering. Of Christ. For what He Did. What he Shared. What He taught. How He loved. Knowing Those whom rejected Him before Death. Who Rejected Him After Death. Who rejected his follower’s teachings. Who slaughtered His followers. Up and into this very moment, in America Culture to the Impoverished 3rd world countries.

Wouldn’t it have been easier – if the “Walk this way” speech would have just come with a control button?

I think the Suffering Of Christ – is in His desire that No One Should Perish, yet, watching those whom He created choose Perishing to Life.

Why is that. I choose life.

Have you ever lost it all?

Have you ever sold everything you owned to move somewhere? We did last year. I was glad to be rid of our thrift store belongings – to have the monies to move – and to take care of our Landlord’s belongings in their home.  I didn’t expect to miss any of the things that went to the garage sale and the thrift store. A couple of books – a blow torch that we used for weeding the fence – and a school table got put on the truck or sold at the garage sale that wasn’t meant to be – but other than that – no thought of what we had.  What I wasn’t expecting – is the response from others. Friends and Strangers. 

You Can’t Do That! I stare at them with disbelief as they stare equally back at me with horror and disbelief. 

This week we have had a cold bug go through the family – so the little details of cleaning have gone undone. This morning I woke up with the joy to clean – which is my favorite way. Tucking little items back in their spots – wiping and straightening. Caring for my home is caring for my family and guests. As I sorted out my reading stand – I saw that it needed a little Old English Lemon Oil Care. 

As Jon brought me the bottle I got to tell him more stories of Nana and Grandpa – and of how I love each book in the little shelf.

I did keep a few pieces. Not of value necessarily – but of memory. As I rub the oil over the wood – I remember who gave it to me. I remember the time they spent in prayer for me. I remember the grandparents that spent so much time with me as a child. I am thankful to my parents for seeing that I was well cared for as a baby.  There was a time as an infant – where my birth parents could have given me up for adoption – or to another family – but they gave me to my grandparents.  Most of who I am and how I think came from the time I spent with my Grandma Ruth and Grandpa Oliver.  Simple. Basics. A Quiet Life. A Love for the Word. A Love for My Lord. A Love for working with my hands in the dirt, with cloth, and with a pen.

This morning, as I brought back fresh life into those few pieces. My mind pondered. My heart swelled. The Love breathed fresh and full for those the Lord laid out to care for me as a child. I look at my little helper today, sweeping and wiping with his little dish rag. And I smile. Knowing – that whatever mistakes I perceive to make in a day with him- that the Lord is in control – and He has just the right helpers in my path for my boys.

I could loose all of the pretty things today – and would not loose my Christ. Would not loose my wonderful childhood memories. Would not loose my desire to make a mean biscuit. Grow the best Flowers or largest zucchini. Love the open air on my cheeks driving 70 on the back of a motorcycle. Love the spark of interest in book keeping and organizing from time spent on a lap in a big ol chair at  a big ol desk. Hours spent playing games at a little table. Time spent listening to the Word be read by the fire after a mess of bean soup.  What more could one need? What more would one want? I hug my precious memories tight this morning. :) Thanks for sharing them with me. :)

The Secret of Living a Life that is Full

The past two weeks I have been reflecting over the year of change. From a community with over 1400 homeschoolers to 2 families. From a yahoo group of over 200 like minded families to cater to my every whim – to zero. From several activities every day to have the burden of choice – to dishes or mow the lawn.

I walked through several months of grief. I was sure that the Lord moved us here for the better. I heard  promise from Him that this was going to be better for our family. I clung to that promise – while shaking my fist defiantly and stubbornly at the Lord as my heart was ripped up inside from the grief of leaving my friends, adopted family, church family, loved activities. As I watched my children grieve over the loss of their friends. It felt like death. Over and Over. Loss. Pain. Greif. Deep Aguish. Sorrowful. Troubled. Distress. Sad. Sore Hearted. Heavy. and Deeply Depressed.  Finally, in December – I had a walk on the beach. Tears flying. Understanding gone. But a promise heavy on my heart. I cried out to the Lord. I admitted that what I thought we would walk through – I could not see. But I would look daily for what He as doing – for the better for my family.  Sound dramatic to you? Rolling your eyes at a silly drama queen? 

Christ knew. He knew what it felt like that day on the beach in a December Storm where the Salt from the Rain and the Salt from my tears mixed even.

http://bible.cc/matthew/26-37.htm   - “and he became anguished and distressed.”

The link above will bring to you a parallel translation site – to see how those words were choosen. To try to reflect what Christ – as a human – as man – felt.

I had an attack constantly through those months. Guilt. Shame. I thought I should just look around and see what I do have. And Feel Better. The enemy made me want to crawl under a blanket in a dark room in the basement. The Enemy made me to feel that I was wrong. A Christian would not feel this depression. Everyone around me is used to a Mary Poppins – Joy Seen- Glad Tidings exterior. For a time. It just wasn’t there.

Fast forward. A Year later. And I am trying to write out a post. Of where we’ve come. Of How it Feels. Of how full I feel. Of how much I love this crazy tourist town and its people. Of the Church who has adopted our family as their family. Of friends of all different family backgrounds who have invited us into their homes. Of a home, physically in itself, is as near to perfect of what I’d order myself up in Heaven as it could get.  Maybe with bigger bathrooms, if we um, need showers and such in Heaven. . . . .

I have been spending these Indian Summer afternoons with the boys outside, as the temperatures past 80 in the house with the western facing windows heating our rooms. Baseball. Kayaking. Walks on the beach. Skate parks. Swings. Walks around the neighborhood memorizing the names of all of the dogs. Patting our friend Joe on the head as he runs out to greet us. Friends calling to take us hiking and adventuring. Neighbor sister friends praying with us, guiding us, laughing with us.

And I feel another sort of guilt. One that I wasn’t sure how to write about.

The Fullness Of Life. The amazingness of my life. The Glory of where God has put us physically. The Amazing transformation of our Marriage. The Unity of our family and the boys.  The Direction of our Learning Studies. The Support on line and in town of our studies. The Group of Lego families. The Godly Spiritual Truth of our Church Family. The Joy of discovery each day.

One year later. Sitting in the same chair. Same Spot. Same grass. As last year.

I read a verse this week. A familiar verse. And yet, It hit me. One of those – Think about this. Really Think. Chew. Talk. Digest. This is for you. Verses.

It is the rest of the verses from Matthew 26. Where Christ pleads, in this sorrow – for the cup to be passed over him. For it to be another way.  For it not to be at all. And for the first time I heard and felt the sorrow. Of his friends who did not stand with Him. Of his closest church family who fell asleep when he needed them most. Who did not even walk up the hill with him.

And It hit me. The Secret of being full. Even in a valley of time. Drinking.

Christ finally tells the father – When his soul was crushed to the point of death – vs 27 – that in vs 42 – he bends. Takes it in. Agrees.

“If this cup – cannot pass – unless I drink it – Your will be done.”

Without knowing it – that was the basic prayer of my heart that December afternoon on the beach.  Drink from his cup. Take His Yoke. Put your fork down. Lay your burden down. and pick up His.

I have spent alot of time in prayer these past few months – learning about healing. And knowing that God wants to heal my discouraged heart. That he wants reunion and joyful fellowship with the fullness of my being. That His Spirit longs to play happily with my Spirit. Without long sideways glances of remembering wounds. But eyes ahead at the prize of salvation and joyfully awaiting His return. Are you joyfully awaiting His return? Are you standing up to the lies of the enemy with Truth of the Word?

If you are struggling with the same soul – wounded to to the point of death like Christ’s – cry out to him. Tuck a comment here and I will promise to pray for your healing.

Remembering and Seeing

I am working through the A Woman After God’s  Own Heart, Workbook an DVD by Elizabeth George for two weeks. She is encouraging us to keep a prayer journal.

For the past year,  have glanced at my journal. Written little. I think the pain of separation from the people in the journal was too much, and the thought of buying a new one an moving on was something I wasn’t ready for yet. 

This morning I pulled out my bible journal and prayer journal.  One – I write down my thoughts as I read the Word. Sometimes passages of scripture from the Psalms and Proverbs. I read

Ps 94 that I had written in 2008 – He that planted the ear, shall he not hear? he that formed the eye, shall he not see? He that chastiseth the heathen, shall he not correct? He that teaches man knowledge, shall not he know?

I read many of the passages that the Lord brought to my attention during a year that my husband was unemployed, our church was completely changed over, my friends were in upheaval, my priorities were completely off.

Now, even only three years away – I see his protection. I see the peace of the words of comfort that he brought to me.

I read through the prayer journal.  I pray through the Lord’s Prayer, taking each section of the prayer as a section in my notebook. I see the prayers. I remember the tightness of heart going through some of those entries. I see the answered prayer. Except for one ongoing thorn in the side – they have all been answered. Greater and more abundant than I could have ever seen back then.

I read through two or three dreams and visions. One from before 2008 that was fulfilled this year. What was a mystery then, written in obedience, is now a telling of what has happened to us this year.

I have seen the fruit. Of writing it down. I have spent this past year sharing quite a bit of my thought and pondering journal with you.

For the most part – I am going to go back to writing it down in my journal. Kept. Peaceful. Left in His Hands.

I will still ponder and bore you here – but I am feeling healed. Whole. Ready. Standing at the Gate, Standing in the Gap. For the broken hearted. For those without hope. For the hurting. For those without healing. For those who lead us. I feel re-charged from the Spirit, after this year of rest, reflection and remembrance.  

Leave is over, the battle is still raging about me, I must stand as a warrior child of the King.