A Changed Person

Another year is about to begin and this will not be a post about New Year's resolutions. This is a time to walk day by day, sometimes hour by hour, minute by minute. We are surviving the days and the last thing I need is another "to do." I surprisingly have some peace at the moment knowing that the LORD will reveal what needs to be done as I walk one step at a time. Being in over your head can be a blessing at times, because you start to understand that you can't map out the future. All you can do sometimes is brace yourself as  life unfolds and ask that God be mindful of your hopes and pleas. If there is one thing I won't do right now, it is give up hope. My faith is often small as a mustard seed, but if I let go of that mustard seed then what will I have? I will have children without a mother who needs them. And that is not an option. My love runs too deep for that. My Savior's love runs so deep for me.

 

The past few (or several) years have been a time of wondering where God is. For  at least four years I couldn't open up my Bible at all. I couldn't speak at all to God, because my cries just seemed to echo in an empty space. I had been blindsided in a relationship (before my marriage) ravaged by a sexual addiction. My whole world turned upside down when I had done everything so "right" only to have things go so "wrong." This brought to question many things. Where was God and why wouldn't He bring me any comfort when I sought Him through His word, when I cried out to Him, when I had journaled after reading the book of Hosea for a year telling God that I wanted to be satisfied just in Him alone and hadn't entered into the relationship lightly. Where was God when "my heart was uprooted-thrown somewhere into a desert with no place to find refuge"? Where was God when the best option for me at the time was to run from the wolves? And why were the wolves the ones who were supposed to be so godly?  When we follow God and seek Him, He owes us blessing. Or does He?

 

Don't get me wrong. The pain of being lied to and deceived was sharp and intense. But that wasn't the pain that turned into agony. The agony where I could find no rest and no safe place was when my grief was met with judgment. And the judgment came from God's church. I could go into details to try and justify myself, so people would understand the circumstances leading up to my exasperation. Truthfully, the things that were said to me were so far off of from what God would want me to hear in my pain. In many ways I want others to understand the reasons I just couldn't take it anymore and stopped going to church, stopped reading my Bible, was left with so much anger, etc, but why bother. It makes me tired, and now I know that it is okay to hold those people responsible for the things that were said and not blame myself, and I also know that in their hearts where Christ dwells, they do not wish pain for me and never did. God has forgiven them, as He has forgiven my many sins. And one amazing thing I have realized is that Christ commands us to forgive when we have been wounded not only because we have been forgiven so we should in return forgive others, but because He wants us to be free. And how can we be free if we can't let go of hurt and pain. A good God doesn't want to see His children hurting and bitter. He wants to bring us a harvest, not let us shrivel and wither under that tiny plant.

 

Still, the many questions have impacted my little 31-year-old life greatly. Much energy has been spent wondering if God really cares and why  His church is such a mess. The church is supposed to be a reflection of Christ's love to a suffering world, and I can't see that right now. I can't see it. And I can't understand why I was always told growing up that people should want what we have-they should see Christ in our lives and long for it in theirs too. But who wants to flock to a place where there seems to be so much judgment? And how loving is the church really? Shouldn't the church be a safe place in a dangerous world? Isn't the church the place where widows and orphans are taken care of? How much is that happening really???  Really??? God, why do the people who seem to love you the most get kicked around so much?

 

And with those questions, it has been easier to keep a distance from God and church. There are the times here and there where I try. But when I go to church on Mother's Day and hear a sermon where the topic comes up that mothers really should be home with their children, I go home a little more discouraged than encouraged in the LORD. Nevermind that yes, I agree that mothers should be home with the babies they carried for 9 months and think it is just horrible when that can't happen, but at the time I was working because I have an illness and my daughter had and still has multiple food allergies and working alongside my husband helped us manage those expensive needs so I could take care of her and my husband and myself and not depend so heavily on my parents who have already sacrificed so much for me. Most mothers don't want to be away from their children, so do we really need to hear things like this in the Sunday sermon, let alone Mother's Day? Go do this and this and you're not doing this and this and by the way, Happy Mother's Day-Jesus loves you.  And the examples of this type of thing in church after church go on and on.

 

So as you can see, I still have a lot of things to sort out. But in the past 6? months I have seen some interesting things coming to pass. I have seen that I am not alone in these feelings. I am not alone in the anguish of betrayal. I am not alone in enduring spiritual abuse.  And some of the people who have engaged in these ways are being called to account. It is rare to see this happen on earth. It makes me more aware that if it doesn't happen on earth-not to be deceived-it will happen before God and He will set all things straight. He will show Himself to be a loving God who hates pain, sickness, and disease and loves widows, the weak, the suffering, the orphaned, the sinner who knows his need of Him.

 

And despite all my questions  an image keeps popping into my head. There was a day recently when a male driver was behind me riding my tail. And boy did it make me mad. And although at one point many people put me on a pedestal as being so good and nice to a fault , boy has the bitter hurt I've experienced changed me. And Mama Bear came out as she often can. It's funny how fury can make you feel the power of a grizzly and cloud your mind as to how powerful you  really are. And a slew of swearing circled out of my mouth like a car spinning on black ice. And the last thing out of my mouth when I pulled off of the road to let that son-of-a....  go in front of me was not directed at him anymore. It was directed at God. "Oh come on!" I said to Him. "I've got kids in the car!" And then there was that gentle prodding in my Spirit from my conscience spoken  by God. "Yes, Bethany. You've got kids in the car. Watch your mouth."

 

And I think I chose to write about this, because I see a new lesson unfolding for a New Year and all the years God chooses for me. And it's not a lesson that is saying take your new resolution and run with it and then feel guilty when you are left flat on your face and it has steamrolled over you. It's a lesson that is saying, "Bethany, I'm with you and we are on a journey together. And I want you to let me walk with you. And who knows better than me what it is to be betrayed? "My God, my God, why have you forsaken Me?" Who has endured the greatest wounds? Who, ironically, suffered from "spiritual" abuse? Did you or did you not betray me and have I not forgiven and hurled those offenses and wounds into the deepest ocean ?"

 

  And ready or not I will walk undeservedly into a New Year with LOVE, a God that promises to be with me and keep me and change me, the author of my faith, finding a way in the desert to nurture that mustard seed.  

All A Blur

 

 

Little Girl got a Fisher-Price Camera for Christmas. What a cool present! She will be quite the photographer.

 

 

 

And her pictures seem to sum up our crazy life pretty well right now.

 

 

Everything is a blur. We celebrated three Christmases because we are lucky enough to have lots of grandparents. Which kind of made me feel like this...

 

 

 

Especially if you know all the preparation it takes for me to have food my kids and I can eat while we are traveling or going to someone else's house.

 

 

 

But many things are CLEAR.

 

For example...

 

 

 

My Little Pony never goes out of style.

 

 

 

 

And one can never have too many horses.

 

 

 

 

Little girls bring out the very best in Grandparents. And little girls especially bring out the best in men.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Little Brothers are the best teachers for learning how to share.

 

 

 

 

But life just wouldn't be as good without them in the picture.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Christmas Time is Oh So Much Fun!

 

 

 

And Mommy and Daddy still love each other even though life sometimes throws messy, blurry, unforeseen things at them with uncertain days ahead.

 

What more could a little girl need? I can't wait to see more of her pictures!

 

 

When the Picture Doesn't Fit the Frame

 

 

 

      With the rigid creaking of plastic I have posed many Barbie doll visions. Some of these visions, like  childhood dolls, have long been outgrown. Some have been stashed away in a box in the dark corner of my closet as the house full of toys became cluttered along the way. Some are still engaged in a game of peek-a-boo.

      But realistically, many, many seem to have been tipped belly-up in an adult sea of suffering. The suffering that we know comes to us all, the righteous and the unrighteous, although it often appears that the unrighteous fare much better. The suffering that alters our vision accordingly in a fallen world with a risen Savior.

 

     And with a twinge of pain in my heart, and blurry tear-filled eyes these visions-these combined pictures, like a string of paper dolls,  have made their way into other boxes to be discarded. At times I agonize over what to keep. But the truth of the matter is that I only have so much space in my house, on my walls, and only so many frames. Many of the old pictures simply do not fit very many of my frames. And all the clutter only weighs me down more. And as I am weighed down I walk outside and sink my heels into the autumn earth-the autumn earth that is a reminder to me of death and ashes.

        My arms are like brittle, sagging branches bracing for heavy snows to come.  But that is where my Custom Framer comes in. He gently pries open my hands-the hands that I had no idea are clenched so tightly with dry, cracked skin and white knuckles. He whispers in my ear, "Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland." And with those words, I am taken aback with a breath of crisp air, and I watch as more of those clutched pictures, like falling leaves, drift peacefully underfoot. He takes my hand and together we walk over crunching leaves  and together we dream new dreams and see new visions.  He tells me that these are the times when hope is planted and assures me that He already sees the harvest and wants me to see it too. And before it is time to go back inside again and tend to my dolls, a little girl and little boy, we crouch on the ground for a moment. He beckons me to stop and rest and gaze upon the one picture that will never fade, that never has to go in the box, that never disappoints, that always fits the frame. The one picture I can go back to when I'm stuck in my pain and misery, the grief of chronic illness,  the past, or guilt. The picture I can see when I ask myself where was God when I made the seemingly unforgiveable mistake or where is God when my suffering feels  insurmountable? It's my God, hanging on the cross taking my suffering from me.  He lived it; He felt it; He understood it;  He grieves with me; He sees it; He conquered it.  I trade my earthly vision for an eternal one and store up joy for the coming winter.

Celebrating



I am so thankful God has given me a little girl and little boy to celebrate the simple joys in life. These are the moments that bring my heart joy, and I want to revel in and be thankful for them before the skirts stop twirling and the fairy dust settles.

It's the little things.
 Like...

 Time spent in Fairyland.

 

Paper Dolls.



 

 Tea Parties.

 

 



 A window ledge and a train.

 



 

Roll-out cookies to make together. (Recipe from Recipes to Nourish Blog)

 

 

  Big sorrows cannot take away my little joys.