Adoption · Christian Poetry · Grief and Loss · Poetry · Prayer · Uncategorized · Waiting

A Beggar’s Plea

What do you do, when someone you know is feeling the weight of the world?

She’s a middle-aged woman, at a crossroad, her mind: In

a spiraling, downward swirl?

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Bible journaling helps me tremendously to process my feelings.  It is a time of worshipful reflection. Here I was spending some time in Job.

 

She has a good life, husband, house, child…to start,

but what she so misses she thought would be here,

and it leaves an ache in her heart.

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Two times she lost out on what might have been,

yet another problem, a delay comes along.

Her strength, her resolve’s growing thin.

Not again! Don’t do this to her, don’t make it end like this!

She wants another child, that’s all.

Is this so wrong, to wish?

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If it’s not God’s will, in time she’ll understand.

But the years have dragged on and she just wants to know,

What should she do, disrupt it? Move on? What’s His plan?

What would you do, about this woman, about this beggar’s plea?

If you would be so inclined, dear reader, just pray-

For this pleading beggar is me!

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Here today is my honest prayer: Gracious God, you owe me nothing.  You have already blessed me immeasurably.  You know my heart’s desire for another child, and we took this road to pursue another adoption because we thought that was what you wanted for us.  If we read that wrong, then close every door.  But if it is in your will for our lives, please dear Lord, would you bring this to a positive end, soon? I had thought, honestly, there was a little girl that we were supposed to parent. A sister for my boy.  I wonder, was I wrong? Did we mess it up? When it drags on, I have days where I think I can’t do this any longer…I’m too old, our family is set-just the three of us, I should give it up and move on.  But then, for some reason, I find myself still holding on to this dream even when it makes no sense in some ways.   And I find myself coming to you in the middle of the night, down on my knees begging that you would grant us this miracle.  I know you have the power to make this happen.  I come to your throne, boldly, as you have invited us to do, to ask you specifically.  Lord, will you give us a daughter to adopt? if it is not too late, will you help me hang in there just a little bit longer? It is so hard to live in limbo. Yet I know I am not alone, and will never be.  You are always with me, no matter what.  Dear God, thank you for hearing my plea.  I will follow you all the days of my life, no matter what. I love you, Lord.  Amen.

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For you, whomever you may be, I pray, also that YOU may feel the freedom to unburden your heart and spirit “To Him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us (Ephesians 3:20).”

“Let us therefore come boldly to the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy, and find grace to help in time of need (Hebrews 4:16).”

 

 

 

 

 

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/disrupt/

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Christian Poetry · Grief and Loss · Recovering Perfectionist · Uncategorized

Calming Creed (when anxiety threatens)

It has been a long time since I have added fresh content to this little blog.  It is not because I haven’t thought about it.  We have been through some recent transitions: We moved into a new home to be closer to our son, Liu’s new school.  This Fall, he made the move to middle school.

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These changes seemed to have many layers of meaning for me.   Will I hear an added voice in our family within these walls? Is it “too late?”  I had always wanted small children close in age in school together.  Well…that ship has sailed.  I don’t want to be    done with the care and nurturing of small children.  Now my only little one is not so little anymore and we are getting older.  This makes me sad.

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I’ve been filled with these thoughts and feelings and the normal fears that can envelope a parent’s heart when their child begins a new school.  Sometimes the fear of our future and what it will look like masquerades itself in preoccupations with “this place is a mess” and “how will I get this place set up ‘just right?'” Because, well…anxiety is sneaky like that.  When the mind doesn’t know what to do with some big, heavy life issues, it can cause you to hone in on another aspect of your life and OBSESS on it.  And, yeah, it pretty much sucks. Depression sucks. Obsessive thoughts suck.  And so does caring what everyone thinks if they know that you deal with these.  And then there is the  inevitable extra judgment I might get because I happen to also be a chaplain. But here is a news flash: Chaplains are humans, too.  Pastors, youth pastors, ministers…all humans.  And no one is immune to the possibility of mental health struggles.

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Don’t get me wrong.  Most days I’m doing well.  I am in remission from full-blown depression from many years ago.  But there are so many skills I must employ to ensure my continued health.  I must watch my pattern of thoughts lest they stray back to the overly negative zone. I have to make sure I get exercise and don’t neglect self-care and activities that bring me joy or I could slide back into being depressed.  Daily devotions and prayers help me focus my thoughts on HIM.   There are  many more pieces to the puzzle which involves caring for my body, mind, and soul.

The transition of moving was hard, but it is getting easier.  The life transition…well, that is something I still grapple with.  In the toughest days when we were moving and Liu was starting school, I had a few panicky, emotional mom moments.  Not just about the “only child” issue, but about Liu in the middle school environment. I had thoughts like, “will he be okay?  Will he be a target for bullies with his special needs?”   I began making up a little poem in my mind to help calm me when I needed it.   I designed it so that much of it would be easy to memorize, and then repeat over and over and over again.  I found that it gives me great comfort.  I hope that you might find it comforting or useful, as well.  Without further ado, here it is.

 

It’s okay.

Remember who you are.

Remember “whose” you are.

You are God’s.  He loves you.

He made you.  He forgave you.

Even died to save you.

He is with you right now.

His Spirit lives in you.  His angels surround you.

Protecting, watching, guiding your mind toward Him.

He longs for you to be filled with peace,

with thoughts obsessed with only Him.

The chaos around you, it’s NOT WHO YOU ARE.

It is merely outside of you.  It cannot hurt you.

Not with your eyes fixed upon His beauty, His glory, and His all-encompassing love.

 It protects. It surrounds. It wraps you in safety.

 Of you, He will never let go.

You are at peace.

You are okay.

Remember who you are. Remember “whose” you are.

 

Christian Poetry · Grief and Loss

The Day After Good Friday

I wrote the following piece on Good Friday 2012.  Like countless other things I’ve written over the years, it was scrawled out on a tiny piece of scratch paper and buried in a box never to see the light of day! Until now.

One of the things I always treasured about my upbringing in the Lutheran Church was the Lenten Season.  I really did take it seriously even as a wee youngster.  I participated fully in several church services, especially during Holy Week.  First the Maundy Thursday Service which commemorated Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane as he contemplated what was about to happen and prayed to His Father that “this cup would pass from him (Matthew 26:39)” And then, a candlelight Good Friday Service where the seven sayings of Jesus were read aloud by the pastor,  followed by extinguishing each candle until finally every light was snuffed out.  This was a dramatic moment of silence to signify that Jesus had in fact actually died.   Following the service we were all ushered out in silence.  I took this so seriously that, if anyone dared whisper on the way out, I was sure to give them the evil eye (in the nicest way I could).  And then, the vigil…waiting for Easter.  I always wondered what that must have been like for Jesus’ followers, after his death and burial.  Their whole lives had become about following him and now he was dead and buried in the ground.  For they did not yet know what was really going to happen.  Without further ado, here is the piece.  I hope you enjoy it on this night before Easter.

 

“What now, Oh Lord? What Now?”

Must have been the disciples’ cry

After all their dreams had died.

Hopes shattered, trust broken, or so it seemed.

“Nothing left for us,” they cried

The day that Jesus died.

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Image courtesy of Pixabay

This man they followed, giving up their lives,

Believing he was Israel’s special son.

“Now it’s all over,” they cried, “it’s done!”

They must have thought, “our beliefs were for naught…

We’ve been played for fools, all…

Where will we go?  On whom will we call?”

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Image courtesy of Pixabay

With all of their sadness and hopeless hearts’ plea,

They dispersed and ran off their separate ways,

The day after Good Friday.

If you’ve ever felt this way:

Broken, lost, betrayed,

With no more hope to find,

Then we’re all the same in many ways.

Or maybe you’re in a fog waiting for light,

what’s to be your next move?

which way is right?

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Image courtesy of Pixabay

If you’re like me you want to jump to the ending,

and see how those things all turn out, the ones pending…

You see one door closed, a dream’s door slammed shut.

And you wait with great hope to get out of this rut.

Still, we know, there can be no resurrection without first, a death.

And quiet. And wondering. And waiting.

So we wait together, longing….for our own Easter Sunday.

Don’t rush to an ending just be in the silence

and go on this journey with Him.

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