Master of Peace

Simon replied, "Master, we have been working all night long and caught nothing.  Yet if you say the word, I will let down the nets" (Luke 5:5).

Master - such power and peace in that word. I can sit and just rest in that word.  Simon is acknowledging Jesus' authority - not just his theological and God given authority but also a knowledge of fishing, something Simon has been doing not only all night, but his entire life.

Each time I read this verse, the word "master" pulls at my heart. It is a balm to my trials and worries. It's an ahh moment. I can rest in the knowledge that he is master, not me.

Simon's first sentence also makes me laugh. I can so relate. "Dude. We have been doing this ALL night. There's nothing to catch. Don't you know, we know how to fish."

Sometimes in life we are not prepared to listen to good advice. Sometimes we have heard it all and then some. With Jocie's illness, so many people have a suggestion. Have you tried gluten free? Have you had your air ducts cleaned? Have you tried a specialist? Is her specialist the best in the nation? Have you heard of probiotics?

And that's without reading the internet.

(And believe me - I so wish a probiotic pill or additive would clear all this up. She's been taking probiotics for years. I don't notice a difference at all. Yet, then I read there's so many different kids of probiotics. Aiyaya!!!)

I know they just want to help. Shoot - I am looking for an answer. But sometimes you just want to say - yes, I've tried it. It's NOT working. Just fix it.

Then there's Simon's second sentence. It matches with his acknowledgment of "Master." "Yet, if you say the word, I will let down the nets."

There is hope and reassurance in this verse.  Jesus is master of not just our spiritual lives but the whole package. He knows how to do our jobs so much better than we can imagine. He actually IS the love we share with others. It's the acknowledgment and release of control to Jesus that brings the peace I so desire.

Lord - when I am tired, frustrated, and out of my own options let me turn to you.  Lord, let me keep my eyes on you even before I run out of my own strength.  I am so limited.  You are so powerful.  Lord, be my peace and strength.  Amen.

Headed to Hogwarts!

Yesterday, John's welcome packet for WPI arrived.  He read the entire letter aloud to me.  His eyes were glistening and his voice shook just a tiny bit with excitement.  He then opened the welcome booklet.  A few pages in he looked up and said,

"This is like going to Hogwarts."

That is one of the best things I've heard in the last year.

I am filled with love and excitement and peace and joy for our dear boy. It assured us that this long road to a college decision ended where he dreamed. I don't think there was any other way John could have conveyed how happy and pleased he is with his decision and the road ahead. Chris burst out laughing with joy himself when I repeated the story to him. Oh, happy, happy day!

Treasures from My Walks

The moss turns green first in the spring.

The largest pileated woodpecker I've ever seen.  It was huge I tell you. I'd say almost 18 inches long if not bigger.  I loved seeing it, and I sure am glad it was pecking on a dead tree in the woods rather than our eaves.

Busy, busy squirrels full of energy and spring excitement.

Three deer that stood and watched me this morning.

Snow flakes that fell on my nose and eye lashes the first day of spring break.

Seeing thousands of trout lilies.  I even saw some of the first blooms.

Another woman doing her yoga stretches by the large turn in the creek.

An eagle gliding above the park as I entered.

A man allowing his very nice dog to run free and occasionally chase the squirrels in the woods.  There was such beauty in their relationship and the freedom to let a dog run knowing she would return.

How spring exploded this week with this bout of unseasonably warm weather.  Cherry and pear trees are blooming, the grass has greened up, and leaves are quickly sprouting.

Jumping from rock to rock up the creek.

Taking what must be a deer trail off the walking path to the creek.  I found the hoof prints where the deer cross the creek and climb up the bank.  I found signs of geese and then finally in a curve that forms a large quiet pool, the geese.  I walked further and found a huge area of sand and pebbles.  Just ten yards from the path everyone walks each day is a totally different landscape never seen.

Sitting on a rock in the middle of the creek this morning, seeing the sun filter through a newly green tree branching across the creek and glitter off the water as it tumbled over rocks upstream.  From my perch I could look up and downstream as the creek gently curved in both direction and flowed over many other rocks.  I was overwhelmed by the beauty of rocks, water, moss, sunlight.   

Peace.  I have found peace.

Who Knew?

Birdie is a writer.  She's always liked writing stories.  One of her favorites was her version of The Mitten by Jan Brett that she wrote and re-wrote starting at age 6.  But recently she shared what she's been writing for her own Fan Fiction page.

I read it with my mouth wide open.  She gets it.  She writes with great detail that brings you into the story.  Me - I'm just journalling.  She Writes.

Who knew that was there???

I shared this new discovery with her oldest brother.  He just took it in stride and said, "Yeah, you guys made some creative kids."

That we did.

The Healing Path

My healing path wanders from our neighborhood to a nearby park. As my soul has craved spring, it has also craved nature.

God speaks through nature.  It's His masterpiece.  I don't have the words to express how walking through the woods, listening to the water rushing through a run of rocks, the rat-a-tat-tat of the biggest pileated woodpecker I've ever seen, the silence of a mallard fishing in the quiet depths, and the smells of falling snow or the freshly turned spring earth scream out the assurance of God to me.

I am immensely thankful.

While I desperately need the exercise, my walks have also been reflective and about enjoyment.  Since spring is just now exerting its power, cutting through the woods from the path to the creek is open from the quickly awakening briars.  Many times over the past few weeks I've ventured off the path to the creek.  To listen, to breath, to praise the goodness of water flowing.

Monday, I went further.

My intent was to walk along the bank.  Then there was a downed tree.  I could have tried to climb around it, but the rocks made an easier path through the water.  I'm not sure you can jump from rock to rock without at least of a hint of a smile.

Exercise is good for the body and soul, but slowing down the pace to jump from rock to rock, to dip your fingers in the spring-cold, rushing water - that is a healing experience.  One I hope to take Birdie on later today.

Metaphorical Ramblings

The landscape was black and charred.  What had happened?  Was this a planned burn?  A careless camper?  A strike of lightning? Yet rising from desolation were crisp green shoots and persistent purple blooms.

I'll never forget that first glimpse of Yosemite.  We entered the park through winding roads criss-crossing the smoky remains of a mighty forest.   We never learned how the fire started, but what remained with me was the beauty of spring and new life emerging from the ashes even while large trees still smoked. 

My soul craves such a spring like my lungs require air.

Yet this year winter fights to hold on.  The sun is bright and looks warm, but the wind continues to bite and snowflakes drift just moments after warmth.

There are green shoots pushing through the black night of winter, and they bring me hope.

I never knew I would so desperately wish for spring.  And I'm learning from spring, that healing and growth come spurts and stops.  New growth takes time and warmth.  One day may be warm and sunny, followed by another snowy morning.  Something new will emerge - patience is required.  Like the remains of the forest fire, the big ones still smolder. 

We're coming through this dark season of our life.  Looking back I feel mightily blessed.  So many possible tragedies were simply trials.  What has seemed like a burnt wasteland is enabling new growth to emerge.  

Not Easy

It was 7 am and my two high schoolers should have been at school already.  However…

"The boy is NOT wearing any pants."

"The boy is STILL not wearing any pants."

"WHERE are the boy's pants?"

This was the running commentary from my oldest.  Meanwhile missing pants boy was searching for books, finding papers, signing forms and waiting for the pants to dry.  As I spun in circles trying to get one boy into the missing pants and both boys out the door, my oldest asked,

"Won't you your life be so much better and easier when we move out of the house?"

It was enough to stop me cold.

"No!"

No.  You see I never asked for easier.  I asked for children - children to love with more love than I knew I possessed.  And that's what makes my life better for all time.

These past four months have been the absolutely hardest and darkest of my life.  It's still hard. Things are getting a little better, but I also think we're just getting used to living with the hard things.

I would not trade one moment of these hard moments we've had - and trust me there have been moments I wouldn't wish on anyone - but I would not trade one moment if it meant being without my children.  Even in the midst of the difficult time.

I've learned a few things in the past few months.

• Sometimes when life is hard there's nothing you can do to fix it except pray AND pull up your boots and keep wading through the muck that is now your life.  Not eloquent, and also a PG version of the language I usually use, but true.
• Hard things can be very good things.  Hard conversations can be awful, hurtful, stressful, and at the same time very good for all involved.  I've learned to face the hard conversation and be glad for it afterwards.  Hard conversations don't have to end in fights.
• I know my children.  I've had my confidence shaken in a big way, but I know my children.  And when I consult my gut, God, and my husband, we usually come to a good decision.  
• That I am soooo blessed to be in this parenting thing with my dear husband.  We balance each other.  We support each other.  And as I told the kids one difficult Sunday when we were bickering, "We may drive each other crazy and be on each other's last nerve, but I still want to sit beside him and hold his hand in the middle of it."  
• That I absolutely do not have a brave or poker face.  I have a worried-face, tired-face, mad-face,  and I'm-biting-my-tongue-face, but no brave face to be found.  I never thought I had one, but it has been confirmed.  I cry too easily, and then I proceed to tell everyone I know how much I'm crying.  Yeah, no bravery for me.
• That New Years Day does not bring a change to life.  It's just another day. I didn't realize how I secretly wanted the New Year to bring peace to our lives, but I did. Unfortunately, it was a sad realization that problems don't just disappear from wishing.  Not only that, but more problems showed up the second week of January minutes after I declared I was at the end of my rope.
• Don't ever tell God you've had enough.  He'll decide when you've had enough.  That one's from my dear husband.  I wish he would have told me that earlier.  
• That my God is my lamp and the light in my darkness. There's not much more to know than that, now is there?  We will have troubles. There will be darkness. The darkness is not always about me or for me to understand.  But God will be with me. To this I cling.  

So life and children aren't easy.  But like I said I didn't ask for easy.  I asked to love.  And while I love their independence and dreams of their own futures, I don't look forward to the quiet days when they're gone.  I suspect that form of easy will be quite difficult in its own way.