***The names have not been changed to protect the innocent. There are none innocent.***
It has been seventeen years yet I can still see the sights and smell the smells.
The sanctuary looks bare. An empty tree stands tall and fluffed in the corner of the stage. Glimpses of the brightest red and deepest greens can be seen speckled across the pews.
Fresh evergreen cuttings and a hint of cinnamon are in the air before the waft of mixed colognes and perfumes overtake its gentle aroma.
Dad stands and greets the crowd. The excitement of the day is palpable. This was his most favorite of Sundays - the Greening Service.
First, the candles are lit and tree is lit. We read the scripture of the light that led the way. Then the garland is placed - in windows, over pews, draped over the balcony. Green everywhere. Like the new birth of the greens, we read of the new birth of Christ. Next, we bring our gifts like the magi. As the congregation brings gifts for the Lottie Moon offering they are given in return delicately handmade Chrismon ornaments to decorate the bare tree with. Finally, the piece de resistance - the fire red poinsettias make their appearance. They are placed in memory and honor of loved ones, but really they are pointing us to salvation. Christ carried a cross like the wooden stem and bled fierce red blood like the blooms. The real beauty, however, is the center. The golden crown shining like the one Christ is wearing now as he triumphs over death reminds us of the promises of salvation for his people.
We all sing "Joy to the World" with gusto and leave joyfully.
Until.
The church is basically empty and I hear shouting - raised voices. One I know well, my Dad's. I turn and bursting from the back sanctuary door and down the stairs is my Dad being pushed and shoved by Terry and Tommy with poor old Alton tagging along. I watch them grab my Dad's arms and proceed to ambush him up two flights of stairs to his office. Closely behind are my dad's two best friends, Rick and David; Wesley, our youth pastor's husband; and my brother David. Shouting can be heard through the floor and my brother is soon escorted back into the nursery where the families of our friends and staff are gathered.
The afternoon goes by in a blur until the staff children are sent away to the home of Wesley's parents out of fear that physical harm would come to my Dad and the church staff. That night the entire staff resigned and no one attempted to protect us.
It is amazing how quickly my most fond memory of Christmas in the form of a Greening Service can become my worst nightmare and what would bring me to a hate of Christmas and the church for years to come.
****************************************************
This is a difficult, yet necessary piece of my story to tell. One of many. Each year on the first Sunday in December these memories come flooding back. The symbolic beauty of the coming of Christ displayed among each other was turned into deep rooted hurt.
If you see any of us during this precious season and we are not exuding the glow of Christmas, know there is a piece of us missing in the physical form of my Dad but also in the spirit where we have seen the evilest of evil first hand. This is a joyous time; please help us remember that.
Saturday, November 30, 2019
Friday, November 1, 2019
Sabbath
sabbath:
noun
a day of religious observance and abstinence from work, kept by Jews from Friday evening to Saturday evening, and by most Christians on Sunday
Am I the only one who feels like this is a hot topic/word in our culture currently?
Let me make this perfectly clear before going any further - SABBATH IS IMPORTANT!
What I am speaking of is more of a seriousness to rest. Unbelievers are sabbathing and taking in rest in the physical form only while believers are learning more about what it is to rest in the Lord and sabbathing their heart and physical bodies.
After our failed adoption of #bsd in May, Derek and I felt a strong sense to rest. Rest from people. Rest from things. Rest from business. Rest in the Lord with our heartaches. Just rest. During the month of July we said "no thank you" to anything and everything that was not already on our calendar. If it was not a "have to" we weren't doing it. We didn't get any birth mother summaries. We spent time in prayer and seeking the Lord's healing.
It. Was. Glorious.
Growing up as a preacher's kid Sunday was a work day. Let's be really blunt right now --- MINISTERS HAVE NO OFF DAYS! Likewise, ministers' families have no off days. If you think otherwise, you are sadly mistaken. But I digress.
So, Sundays weren't a day of rest for us. The thought of having some time, let alone a full day, where we got to just be and rest without a church call was unthinkable so Sabbathing fully was never something I even thought to be possible.
Fast forward to today and my pastor is speaking on it on Sunday morning, my current favorite podcast is talking about it, and there are new books everywhere about the Sabbath.
Derek and I are homebodies for the most part. We like to spend time with the people we love but we also like our 4 walls too. We do home errands on Saturday so Sunday is free and not so filled with Honey Do's. And Sunday we church. We prioritize nap for HW and have gotten quite a bit of flack over it. A cup of hot tea in my hammock while HW plays on his treehouse is the best part of my Sunday afternoons. That is what my life currently looks like to Sabbath, but is there more to it?
How do you Sabbath? How can I and my family better Sabbath? How can we take a lazy Sunday and turn it into resting our spirits in the shadow of the Lord's wing? We have seen a taste of the blessing of the Sabbath in the continued healing of our hearts and marriage and my appetite is growing for more.
noun
a day of religious observance and abstinence from work, kept by Jews from Friday evening to Saturday evening, and by most Christians on Sunday
Am I the only one who feels like this is a hot topic/word in our culture currently?
Let me make this perfectly clear before going any further - SABBATH IS IMPORTANT!
What I am speaking of is more of a seriousness to rest. Unbelievers are sabbathing and taking in rest in the physical form only while believers are learning more about what it is to rest in the Lord and sabbathing their heart and physical bodies.
After our failed adoption of #bsd in May, Derek and I felt a strong sense to rest. Rest from people. Rest from things. Rest from business. Rest in the Lord with our heartaches. Just rest. During the month of July we said "no thank you" to anything and everything that was not already on our calendar. If it was not a "have to" we weren't doing it. We didn't get any birth mother summaries. We spent time in prayer and seeking the Lord's healing.
It. Was. Glorious.
Growing up as a preacher's kid Sunday was a work day. Let's be really blunt right now --- MINISTERS HAVE NO OFF DAYS! Likewise, ministers' families have no off days. If you think otherwise, you are sadly mistaken. But I digress.
So, Sundays weren't a day of rest for us. The thought of having some time, let alone a full day, where we got to just be and rest without a church call was unthinkable so Sabbathing fully was never something I even thought to be possible.
Fast forward to today and my pastor is speaking on it on Sunday morning, my current favorite podcast is talking about it, and there are new books everywhere about the Sabbath.
Derek and I are homebodies for the most part. We like to spend time with the people we love but we also like our 4 walls too. We do home errands on Saturday so Sunday is free and not so filled with Honey Do's. And Sunday we church. We prioritize nap for HW and have gotten quite a bit of flack over it. A cup of hot tea in my hammock while HW plays on his treehouse is the best part of my Sunday afternoons. That is what my life currently looks like to Sabbath, but is there more to it?
How do you Sabbath? How can I and my family better Sabbath? How can we take a lazy Sunday and turn it into resting our spirits in the shadow of the Lord's wing? We have seen a taste of the blessing of the Sabbath in the continued healing of our hearts and marriage and my appetite is growing for more.
Thursday, October 24, 2019
A New Journey
I have always loved writing. I wrote to release frustration or to express joy or a prayer. When I couldn't say what I needed to out loud, I wrote it down. While in counseling, I've always been encouraged to write it out.
If you've been around for more than a minute, you know my life has been anything but a cake walk. Now, don't get me twisted, I've had many great tragedies but I've also had oh so many great joys that outweigh those tragedies or at least help ease the sharp edges of them.
I've thought and had many others tell me I should write a book. My thoughts go to "no one would want to read this" and "I'm not good enough to write a book" and "nobody knows me so why would I write out my life".
The past two years have been a struggle at many times and I keep coming back to "tell your story" and "write your book". Who knows where this will go, but here is my attempt to get my story out there. You, my blog readers, will get chunks of raw story bit by bit as I make my way through it all. Some of you will know parts all too well because you were there and lived it with me. Some of you will only know bits and pieces. In the end, I hope to express myself plainly, full of vulnerability, and transparency. I hope to bring glory to God because in the good and in the bad, He is sovereign and deserves all praise.
So….here we go...instalment #1
There are three things that have been a constant in my life: faith, food, and family (the biological kind and the friend as close as a brother kind). My earliest memories are of my Dad being in ministry. Church was a staple. If you aren't on your deathbed, you were at church and even then you should be so people could pray for you. Dad was always singing and going to school to finish his MDiv (Master of Divinity). On mornings after being up all night studying Greek or Hebrew, I would walk to the kitchen to find loaf pans filled with bread dough covered with every tea towel we owned waiting on them to rise.
Okay....that's all so far. It's not much, but to me it is a huge step. Stay tuned!
If you've been around for more than a minute, you know my life has been anything but a cake walk. Now, don't get me twisted, I've had many great tragedies but I've also had oh so many great joys that outweigh those tragedies or at least help ease the sharp edges of them.
I've thought and had many others tell me I should write a book. My thoughts go to "no one would want to read this" and "I'm not good enough to write a book" and "nobody knows me so why would I write out my life".
The past two years have been a struggle at many times and I keep coming back to "tell your story" and "write your book". Who knows where this will go, but here is my attempt to get my story out there. You, my blog readers, will get chunks of raw story bit by bit as I make my way through it all. Some of you will know parts all too well because you were there and lived it with me. Some of you will only know bits and pieces. In the end, I hope to express myself plainly, full of vulnerability, and transparency. I hope to bring glory to God because in the good and in the bad, He is sovereign and deserves all praise.
So….here we go...instalment #1
There are three things that have been a constant in my life: faith, food, and family (the biological kind and the friend as close as a brother kind). My earliest memories are of my Dad being in ministry. Church was a staple. If you aren't on your deathbed, you were at church and even then you should be so people could pray for you. Dad was always singing and going to school to finish his MDiv (Master of Divinity). On mornings after being up all night studying Greek or Hebrew, I would walk to the kitchen to find loaf pans filled with bread dough covered with every tea towel we owned waiting on them to rise.
Okay....that's all so far. It's not much, but to me it is a huge step. Stay tuned!
Sunday, June 9, 2019
What If
I am queen of the "what if" game. Truly. I even read a book all about different "what if" scenarios and it was utterly fascinating.
We have recently been chosen by a birth mother to parent her child. We were elated. We were nervous. We were amazed at how quickly we were chosen. We were emmensly thankful.
We drove to meet our birth mother, which was new territory because we haven't had the priviledge to meet HW's birth mother. We spent a couple of hours holding this precious miracle and talking to his birth mother and grandmother. We got to know her. She loves sushi like me. She was in labor for three days before going to the doctor to find out she was already 3cm dialated 2 weeks early. She was eating pizza when the pain was too much and decided to go to the doctor. Her favorite color is blue. She has an infectious laugh and beautiful tattoos, one being of sunflowers going down her arm. She fights like cats and dogs with one of her siblings but only because they are so much alike. She's never been on a vacation in her life. She gave this baby a name based off of men in her life who meant something to her. She has been hurt deeply in her life. She loves this baby. She showed us the picture that made her choose us from our profile.
We held this precious child with long fingers and a head full of hair. He cooed at Derek's touch. He calmed the moment he got into Derek's arms. He wiggled and slept soundly. He is beautiful.
With mere hours left in her relinquishment time we learned she decided to parent.
We changed family plans to prepare for this baby. We discussed how to take pictures at my brother's wedding so he could be in them without violating the legal standards. We prepared. We dreamed of what life with two boys would be like.
We were left broken and empty. I could not sit in the same spot where that picture was taken. It pained, still pains, me to go into the nursery. I began the what ifs. What if I hadn't said we are dairy free knowing she loves pizza? What if we had chosen to use the name she picked? What if we had never met her? What if...
My big brother got married a week later. It was beautiful. It was perfect. I cried all day out of joy for him but also out of loss for all of us. We gained a beautiful and sweet sister but there was a void two-fold, Dad and baby boy.
For the past two weeks I've done everything to keep my mind and body busy knowing that I couldn't think on any of the joy or pitfalls at that moment for a myriad of reasons. I now sit at my computer with music playing in the background and Laura Story's "Blessing" comes on.
What if your blessings come through raindrops?
What if your healing comes through tears?
What if a thousand sleepless nights are what it takes to know you are near?
What if trials of this life are your mercies in disguise?
Man, those what ifs are not what I had in mind. Those what ifs are oh so accurate though.
When darkness seems to win,
We know that pain reminds this heart
That this is not our home
It's not our home
What if my greatest disappointments
Or the aching of this life
Is the revealing of a greater
Thirst this world can't satisfy
The ultimate answer to all of my what ifs is just that, there is a greater thirst this world can't satisfy. My healing does not come from having a baby in my arms or my Dad to walk down an aisle. Days are sometimes dark with sorrow of loss, but praise God this is not my home. Praise God Dad is feasting at the ultimate wedding reception and joined with our savior. Praise God that despite the pain this birth mother has been shown the one who can satisfy and baby B has been given life.
We have recently been chosen by a birth mother to parent her child. We were elated. We were nervous. We were amazed at how quickly we were chosen. We were emmensly thankful.
We drove to meet our birth mother, which was new territory because we haven't had the priviledge to meet HW's birth mother. We spent a couple of hours holding this precious miracle and talking to his birth mother and grandmother. We got to know her. She loves sushi like me. She was in labor for three days before going to the doctor to find out she was already 3cm dialated 2 weeks early. She was eating pizza when the pain was too much and decided to go to the doctor. Her favorite color is blue. She has an infectious laugh and beautiful tattoos, one being of sunflowers going down her arm. She fights like cats and dogs with one of her siblings but only because they are so much alike. She's never been on a vacation in her life. She gave this baby a name based off of men in her life who meant something to her. She has been hurt deeply in her life. She loves this baby. She showed us the picture that made her choose us from our profile.
We held this precious child with long fingers and a head full of hair. He cooed at Derek's touch. He calmed the moment he got into Derek's arms. He wiggled and slept soundly. He is beautiful.
With mere hours left in her relinquishment time we learned she decided to parent.
We changed family plans to prepare for this baby. We discussed how to take pictures at my brother's wedding so he could be in them without violating the legal standards. We prepared. We dreamed of what life with two boys would be like.
We were left broken and empty. I could not sit in the same spot where that picture was taken. It pained, still pains, me to go into the nursery. I began the what ifs. What if I hadn't said we are dairy free knowing she loves pizza? What if we had chosen to use the name she picked? What if we had never met her? What if...
My big brother got married a week later. It was beautiful. It was perfect. I cried all day out of joy for him but also out of loss for all of us. We gained a beautiful and sweet sister but there was a void two-fold, Dad and baby boy.
For the past two weeks I've done everything to keep my mind and body busy knowing that I couldn't think on any of the joy or pitfalls at that moment for a myriad of reasons. I now sit at my computer with music playing in the background and Laura Story's "Blessing" comes on.
What if your blessings come through raindrops?
What if your healing comes through tears?
What if a thousand sleepless nights are what it takes to know you are near?
What if trials of this life are your mercies in disguise?
Man, those what ifs are not what I had in mind. Those what ifs are oh so accurate though.
When darkness seems to win,
We know that pain reminds this heart
That this is not our home
It's not our home
What if my greatest disappointments
Or the aching of this life
Is the revealing of a greater
Thirst this world can't satisfy
The ultimate answer to all of my what ifs is just that, there is a greater thirst this world can't satisfy. My healing does not come from having a baby in my arms or my Dad to walk down an aisle. Days are sometimes dark with sorrow of loss, but praise God this is not my home. Praise God Dad is feasting at the ultimate wedding reception and joined with our savior. Praise God that despite the pain this birth mother has been shown the one who can satisfy and baby B has been given life.
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