The Moon

Last night as I took a walk, the moon had grown fuller in sight from the previous nights of it only being seen as a sliver. Life is coming back. This isn’t the end. As I walked I thought about how I couldn’t see the moon for much of the time, but it didn’t mean it wasn’t there. At some point, I would turn a corner and it would come into being. I would see with my eyes what I knew to be true in my heart. I lifted up the promises back to the Father – the very things He has spoken over my heart and life, and I have been witness to it. I imagined what it would be like when I get to see them with my own eyes, coming to fruition. As I gazed on the moon last night, I thought “it’s coming…” Just because we can’t see it yet, doesn’t mean it isn’t there.

"Commit to hope. There’s reason to! For the believer, hope is divinely assured things that aren’t here yet! Our hope is grounded in unshakeable promises." Jack Hayford

The Long Haul

I'm not looking for theological debate. Isn't it something that God took in essence a week to create the world, but He takes a lifetime to continually unfold and develop us? Our bodies take nine months to form but a lifetime to grow into the character God made us to be.

I'm sure if I took a poll, nearly 100% of all people would say they have had some season in their life when they were tired of the wait. Done. Spent. Ready to toss in the towel. It could be something superficial and trite like waiting in traffic, or it could be tremendously profound like waiting for the fulfillment of God's promise over your life. That's where my beloved husband and I are right now -- individually and as a couple. We aren't waiting for eternal promises that God fulfills somewhere in the heavenlies. We are waiting on things that He has affirmed to us countless times over, a word He has spoken over our lives, and we believe them to be true. But just like Abraham and Sarah getting old and waiting for the promised Isaac...twenty-five years in the wait...our wait has felt unbearably long too.

This classroom is very familiar to us. We have had to wait many times before, and each time I am restless. Maybe each time I build up a little more endurance than the time before it, but it is never easy to wait. In fact, I've blogged about it before (entitled "Waiting" -- November archive) and even now, six months later, I am still being stretched by it...further than I was the last time, further than I thought I could ever go.

God has been refining my view of the wait as I grapple with understanding His timing. Heaven knows, I've given Him grief over my impatience with time. The insights He has given me in the past few weeks, though, bring some healing to that. Here is what He has been stirring in me: God's unfolding over time is very intentional, purposeful and rich. It's not a superficial, surface type of being; it is what is most meaningful and beneficial -- willing to go the long haul -- the greater commitment, the utmost quality of results. To me, that is incredibly profound. There is value and worth in that. God works over time because He doesn't want junk. There is something specific He has set out to accomplish in us that can only happen in the wait. There are details that can only be orchestrated with precision -- attention -- and care -- if we wait and let God unfold them over time.

This has been true for me in my counseling experience. I started this journey of healing in January. I wanted to push so hard for growth, insight, and healing -- as if I could accomplish more if I just pushed myself harder to get there. Not so. In fact, I probably could have drown myself in the process and made it unbearable to continue. Instead, it has been a journey and unfolding and discovery over time. Things that started off hazy and uncertain are becoming more clear as I wrestle through them through time. There is a depth in the mystery of it, not just being handed something instantaneously. I'm learning that a lot of ground work had to be established before I could even dive in and really make progress. I had to take the time to get my footing and have a safety and trust so that I could really benefit and be healed. It has been hard because it takes time, but as I've learned to rest in it, I've greatly reaped the benefit of what God has prepared in the process. I can see how He has been laying a foundation and making preparations in me, so that I would be ready for the next step. Not wrecklessly, carelessly, or haphazardly -- but with great attention and care because it was the best thing for me.

The next time we are looking for the short cut, the easy way out, the quick fix, or the answer we've been waiting for...perhaps we are wise to consider what kind of quality we are looking for. God's way is in fact the best way, even though it is often the hardest. He cares too deeply, loves us too much, and is committed to hold onto us for the long haul to give us any less than His very best. He is willing to endure the agony, the anguish, the pain, because He knows the value and the worth of the end result.

When we are tempted to believe He has forgotten, let it be said of Him that ours is a God who will never let go. He is committed for the long haul. He will see you through to the end of your wait.

Mindful

I've been taken with a concept lately that stops my tracks in a fast paced world: Being mindful. I love what I read recently about it. "Mindfulness is at the heart of nurturing relationships. When we are mindful, we live in the present moment and are aware of our own thoughts and feelings and also are open to those of (others)." It is a way of intentionally connecting to someone, being very aware of the heart and the emotions of them. Embracing all that they are, all that they think about, all that they feel. It gives me a picture of holding the heart of another.

It seems to me that it is nothing short of a miracle when we can stop and be mindful of someone. Even harder for me to grasp is that someone would be mindful of me when there are so many people and so much to do. I've had this feeling lately that my life is much a vapor, and the world keeps spinning all around me. Who am I in the midst of that? Who holds me in their heart?

There is a psalm (also put to music in song) that I've heard several times lately. "Who am I that You are mindful of me? Who am I that You should care for me?" Psalm 8:4 (paraphrase) The Message words it this way, "Why do you bother with us? Why take a second look our way?"

If we have grown up believing that God loves us, we are blessed for sure. But how much more so when our world is shattered and everything is thrown into question -- and we learn that lesson on a whole new tapestry. What about when we wonder down to the core of our being if God even gives a rip about us? It is a whole new depth when we are so bold to say to God, "I know by faith that You love me, but right now I feel incredibly alone and You are silent." Instead of just ignoring our hurting heart and slapping on our Sunday School answers, we lose all pretense and come before Him in utter authenticity.

I'm learning that the pure honesty doesn't shake up our Almighty one bit. He can take it. As I've gone down to the depths, I've found that He is there. Freeing, really -- that He can handle our wide range of emotion and thinking. His stability isn't based on our ability to give our pat answer. He isn't rattled when we say how we're really feeling. Maybe He is relieved for heaven's sake. Maybe He says, "Finally! They're ready to be real." You know, it's His genius. He created our humanity and loves us in our fullness -- not just when know the right answers or when we are all put together.

I grew up knowing God was there. But it falls afresh on me in this season that He is mindful of me. Why on earth would He be mindful of me? With so many people, so much to do, feeling forgotten or lost or empty -- He stops me in my tracks to say, "JULIE, I am holding YOU in My heart."

I want to make this more tangible for you though. I don't want to offer some remote theology that doesn't hit home. I could tell you that every time I go to the grocery store, I inevitably have God reminding me of something I need to pick up. You think I'm making light of God's vast abilities, but He reminds me of things I never would have realized on my own. This weekend it was the garlic. I saw it there in the produce section, had my attention drawn to it as if God were saying "you need that" -- but I turned away and said no, I think we had some. I'm not even kidding, I went home that night, needed fresh garlic for my guacamole I was making, and opened the frig thinking it was right there. All that was left was the stub, no garlic. This is a frequent occurance for me. My attention is drawn to something (which I believe is God pointing it out to me), I say no we don't need it, and I get home and find out that we do. After this has happened a dozen times or more, don't you think I'd learn?

The world doesn't end when the guacamole doesn't have fresh garlic. It doesn't keep the world spinning either way. But what about when my life feels like it could just disappear without notice? Ever felt forgotten, where you wonder if you really matter? I have. That's when I need to know someone is mindful of me. I am touched when someone calls out of the blue, or when someone seeks me out just to see how I am. But when God Himself gets my attention to let me know He is mindful of me, I'm speechless. He woos me that way, and it's probably the single most reason I'm crazy about Him.

It happened this weekend. I have to admit this soul searching season I'm in makes me feel like I'm so far away I could be on another planet. If it were up to me and my own strength, I would probably fall right off. God reminded me this weekend, though, that He hasn't lost His grip on me. I'll try to share this little story -- little to you, because it isn't your heart that is being swept off its feet. In fact you might wonder why it even matters to me. But I'll give it a try.

I was doing some devotional reading in Exodus. No in-depth study, just God's pure Word. "Years passed...(they have in my life too)...but the Israelites continued to groan under their burden of slavery. They cried out for help, and their cry rose up to God. God heard their groaning, and He remembered His covenant promise to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. He looked down on the people of Israel and knew it was time to act." Exodus 2:23-25 Ever wanted to know you aren't forgotten? How about that God would not only remember, but for Him it means He not only thinks of us, when He remembers, He acts. When the years have passed, the time is long and hard, and nothing is on the horizon...the mere thought that God would see fit that it's time to act brings hope. He hears. He remembers. He acts.

I was also reading a book that Todd gave me for our anniversary 11 years ago. Yep, I'm still reading it. Still haven't finished it. It's 850 pages, for crying out loud! Let's just say I'm savoring it. It is Walter Wangerin's Book of God. I just happened to pick it up this weekend (I read it for awhile, then table it...hence why 11 years have passed and the book is yet unfinished). This will have no meaning for you, but it reaches me in so many different layers. Let me simplify it to say that these words speak to the depths of some of what is at the core of me. Wangerin writes, "Yet, on that same afternoon Jesus uttered a word so holy and so consoling that Mary's fears were drowned in a private flood of gratitude....Oh, sheets of glory fell on Mary now! Radiance and gratitude...she was conscious of none but her master and herself -- so high past fears! Lifted higher than loneliness, she had been elevated into the family of Jesus! Truly, Mary from Magdala had a family, and she would be home wherever the Lord was present, forever."

Jesus met with me in those scriptures and narrative. It spoke meaning to me that would take hours to unfold in heartfelt conversation. I wish I could share the fullness here. But if nothing else, hear this: God is mindful of you. He knows what significant word you need to hear. He knows the act of kindness that will most reach your heart when you feel like it is hard to hold on for another day. He knows how to stop you dead in your tracks until you realize how profoundly He remembers you. Let God woo you with His tenderness. Let Him find you in the details.

My Man

I've described him as the cream in my coffee, my sunrise and sunset, my sun, moon and stars, my walk on the beach, my favorite, my delight. He is the twinkle in my eye, the skip in my step, my knight in shining armor, my hero, my best friend. Todd is the one who most deeply shares my heart, my dreams, my fears, my depths, my life. There is no one I'd rather spend my time with and be connected to. He has shown me more of life, more of Jesus, and more of myself.

When did I realize I loved Todd so? I knew I loved him when we were in high school. He had a bucket of ice at youth group and gave me that look that said "Dare me." So I did. He did. I was covered in an entire bucket of ice, but my heart was dancing in love with him.

I knew I loved Todd when I went to England for a semester my junior year of college. We had spent years of riding a roller coaster where Todd was the driver. It was time for me to get off the roller coaster, swim across the ocean, and spread my own wings so I could fly. It was the first time I really let him go. I loved him enough to pursue God more and to get him in the right place in my heart. He pursued me relentlessly and showed me a picture of Jesus who never gives up on me.

I knew I loved Todd when I had wedding jitters. I sat in my room at my parents' home, filled with shower gifts and wedding gifts, but we had no job and all kinds of uncertainty. I was the doubtful bride I never thought I'd be. My man didn't convince me we had to get married. He said if I needed to, he'd wait.

I knew I loved Todd when we were on our honeymoon. It was a far cry from what we had thought it would be. We wanted a quiet getaway in the mountains, but didn't know our room that overlooked the beautiful mountains would be so paper thin we could hear the conversations of the people who walked by. Not quite the best place for honeymooners needing a bit of privacy if you know what I mean. Todd took out a map and said "anywhere you want to go -- we're there."

I knew I loved Todd when he held me in our miscarriage and watched the c-section when Samuel was born. I knew he loved me when he was by my side for Noah's VBAC (the less medical term without too much description would be a more traditional birth not requiring surgery), and when he delivered (literally!) our surprise girl. I knew he loved me when he went clear across the world, hand in hand, to experience a whole new kind of delivery and miracle of God.

We have history together. Our story goes back over twenty years of being best friends, laughing, playing, working, striving, crying, grieving, praying, living. What means so much to me right now is that the story is still being written. We are still living into the thing. For as much as Todd continues to grow older and wiser and better, so does my love for him.

I love him even more now because of what we've walked in this season of anguish. It has been the hardest agony, but the greatest redemption. I've gone places in grief I never knew I had to go to and places I never thought I'd survive. I've seen sides of myself and God that I didn't know existed. I've seen new depths, new adventures that have opened my heart wide to receive more of God. I haven't walked it alone. I wouldn't be here without him.

Today is the day God made him. Without him, my world would be completely different. I'm not entirely sure how to put it into words when it is beyond description. I could fill volumes of detail, but it would all share the same point. Todd means everything to me. No other person on the planet has been a greater gift than he has been to me.

We have a standing joke that it seems every time I have a birthday, Todd gets something. One year it was a coat, another year it was some other big thing he needed. We teased that it wasn't even his birthday, but he got the gift. Well today isn't my birthday, but I trumped him. I got the gift. I couldn't have asked God for something more perfectly tailored to be everything I've ever dreamed and more than I could have ever hoped for. Lately I've been thinking of what a mystery God is -- how unfathomable are His ways. Is He really good? As I reflect on Todd's birthday, I think I've got my answer. Oh yes, He's good. I praise Him that He gives the greatest gifts.