falling into grace

"This is not the way my life was supposed to be. This was not part of the plan." Hearts ache for what has been done, those things we cannot change. Those things we did not plan.

Small shoulders sag under the weight. How did this happen? How could this be? I was so careful in my plans.

A wet piece of paper holding up a bowling ball, this is how ones life can feel at times. What happens when the paper tears and the ball is dropped? Where do we fall? When the pain is too much, what then? At first glance it appears that we have fallen right from grace.

But such is not the case. In fact it is the self-constructed pedestal of pride from which we have fallen - and it hurts . . .

The son, not quite a man, but no longer just a boy, fishes with his father. They bait the hook, attach the lure. The trap is set. Then father teaches son all about lures. To entice is their purpose. To entice is also his, that one who truly fell from grace and wants to drag us down with him, bound with flaxen cords. "There are different kinds", he says, "For different fish like different things. But his tackle box is full, and he knows which lure to use." Beware the deceiver.

A fish is dropped between the planks of the dock, left there to die by someone else who could not be bothered - that life, so seemingly insignificant. It is only a flounder, after-all. Trapped between wood and styrofoam, unable to save itself. But the son sees purpose. His line is put down the crack in hopes that the fish will bite and then be pulled to safety. It will not take the bait. Doesn't it know we are trying to help? No. For this is the plan of the father of all lies. The lure is not safe, we have learned this. We have been burned in the past. We would rather risk the unknown than to take that lure. Sometimes something that looks like hurt is actually help. And sometimes we do not even see it anymore. Hopelessness can be so blinding.

There are many lessons for us to learn. The lessons of forgivness and tolerance and love, pure love - these are not easy lessons to learn. 

We pray for what we know, for those things we can easily understand, but God's ways are not always familiar. He takes us through depths we never asked to go. He knows what we can do, and how the seemily insurmountable task it is to be done. When fog clouds our vision, only He can see through. He shows us the way because He is the way. Some parts of us may have to die in order to make place for something so much better to live and grow.

It is at times such as these when someone so much stronger than ourselves must pull on that board - that cross and those nails - lifting it free from its hold over us. And a hand reaches down. It wraps around us, warm and strong and secure. That flounder is literally scooped up - up out of the pit - and placed back into living waters.

The Son sees purpose.

Even in this.

Even for me.

This is Christ's mission. This is what He came to earth to do, this is why He bids us to come unto Him. He is the fisher of men. He came to rescue all us flounders stuck in deep mire, unable to free ourselves. No matter the cause. Maybe we jumped in. Maybe we took the bait and bit that lure, only to be cast aside by the one who would leave us for dead. Maybe we were placed in the cracks through the actions of others. And now we cannot see the way for the way seems impossible. How will we ever get out? Can there really be one mighty enough to save?

No one can come unto the Father except by the Son.

Because there is no "supposed to be". We have only what we are given. That is all we have to work with. And all our "supposed to be's" no longer matter. It is not what was supposed to be, it is simply what is. And when tough times come bringing pain and sorrow with them, we want to shudder and shrink from the weight of it all, we would do well to remember that we will not be left to flounder. Even when we are a fish out of water and breathing burns like fire, their is hope of rescue.

The fisher of men does not use lures. He will not bind, but sets us free. Back to sea we swim to carry on in our mission and purpose. We are lifted out of sin, out of temptations snare, even out of heartache that threatens destruction of all hope. And we fall into grace. One more soul is saved.

fair weather friend

It has been months. But tonight I actually got out for a run, and I was reminded that I LOVE to run - especially when the sun is shining . . .

. . . And, I get to run in an incredibly beautiful part of the world.

I should have known not to run right after eating a big dinner, but the sun was out and Darren encouraged me to go, so I went. I couldn't run as fast or as far as I could a few months ago. In fact I was as slow as molasses and my knees gave out way before I did. Instead of the dull ache that I could push through last year, this time it was a definite pain that forced me to stop running on the way home and walk. Nevertheless, I will persist (carefully and with much strength training) for the love of the thing. I need to remember that as hard as it is to get out there sometimes, I ALWAYS feel better once I do. I love what running teaches me about myself. I may never run marathons, my knees may never allow it. I am a fair weather runner, the sunshine is definitely a big part of the enjoyment for me. I am not a superstar, I am doing only the best I can do . . . and I am perfectly okay with it all! I compare myself, not to other runners, but to where I was before I started and what I thought I was capable of.

"That's the thing about running: your greatest runs are rarely measured by racing success.

They are moments in time when running allows you to see how wonderful your life is." 

- Kara Goucher

orchid appreciation

Lately my days have been filled with endless opportunities for me to increase in patience and long-suffering. Children have had their share of quarrels - and then some. And instead of expanding in virtue I feel as though I have been letting it get the better of me. The other day when Darren told me that he had yet another church meeting, I groaned. He has been working away long and hard at his many obligations, and where normally I support him, especially in regards to church responsibilities, I must confess, at that moment I thought only of myself. 

Later that night, after children were finally tucked in bed and the house was in some sort of order, I fell into bed. 

That is when he walked in with orchids. 

I do not need to be noticed. I do not need to be praised. I will carry on because that is what has to be done. And I remember: It was I who chose this life with 5 kids and all kinds of crazy. And when I step back and priorities are put back in proper place, burdens are made light, not because they have been taken from my shoulders, but because I see, once again, the value of my mission. Days that feel empty of any sort of production, yet filled with guilt and exhaustion, are not so at all. My efforts, whether great or meager, are vital to this small world of which children think they are the center - and they are! These are the things of eternity. 

Even though efforts seem to go unnoticed, all these unseen tasks that fill my days, they are not. He is grateful. 

Now, everyday, when I catch a glimpse of my orchid, I remember his appreciation and I feel buoyed up. So although I do not need these simple, lovely gestures, they make a world of difference.

Thank you Darren. Love, your adoring wife.