It’s A New Day It’s been six months since my daughter and her family moved away. My daughter and I used to do so much together. Before she was married, we would go to craft shows, yard sales, out to eat and even go on vacations. After she had her daughters, things changed a little. Instead of vacations and craft shows, it was more like playgrounds and kid-friendly places. At first it didn’t hit me. I was busy flying back and forth visiting down south but now the dust has settled. The weather is getting nice and memories are flooding back. The grief of missing her has been rising to the surface. This week I drove by our favorite coffee shop. The shop is the downstairs of a big old house with a wrap-around porch. We would place our order and sit on one of the many rocking chairs as we enjoyed our coffee. When the girls were born, we would take them in their baby seats or strollers and bribe them with a corn muffin so we could enjoy the peace and quiet. I have many good memories of our times there, but every time I drove by, I felt a sadness deep in my soul and I couldn’t imagine ever going there without them. Today I was in the area and I made a last minute decision to stop. I pushed the memories from my mind as I ordered my coffee and found a rocking chair. I didn’t stay long but it was long enough. It made me realize that there’s a time to be sad but then you have to start living again. Will I forget all the good times? No, I’m thankful for the memories, but there comes a time when you have to push past the pain because you never know what’s waiting for you on the other side. I know this was only the beginning. I have many more places to go and things to do even if I do them alone. It’s not what I'd like, but I know life will go on if I take that first step. My prayer is this, “Lord, help me to remember that I am never alone and that you’re doing something new in my life. It’s never too late to change and You’re not done with me yet. Help me to see You at work in my life. Amen”

Stop crying or I'll give you something to cry about! Ouch! How many of us heard those words growing up or said them to our own children? I'm pretty sure I said it to mine. Crying is prompted by an emotion. God made us to cry. Jesus cried. Could you imagine God the Father telling Him to stop? I rarely cried growing up even into adulthood. The only time I cried was when I was angry or someone died. I used to look at tears as a sign of weakness but no more. All of us were made to show emotion. There's a way to handle it for sure but stuffing them down inside is not one of them. That was how I handled it until I was around 50 and then the dam burst and I thought I would never stop. It shook me up pretty bad because I thought I was losing my mind but it was just the unleashing of decades of pent up hurt, resentment and anger. Now I can cry at the drop of a hat. My kids roll their eyes when they see the tears in mine. I can only imagine they don't know what to do with the new me. I've had to learn how to recognize my emotions and deal with them and most of all, not to be ashamed of my tears. There's definitely a time and a place to cry. If you're a parent, you know that the bulk of your tears will be over your children. Someone once said to me that “you're only as happy as your saddest child.” I poured my heart out before God weeping out of fear until one day, I read this verse. “Refrain your voice from weeping, and your eyes from tears, for your work shall be rewarded declares the Lord, and your children shall return from the land of the enemy.” Jeremiah 31:16 What that said to me was it was ok to cry but there's a time to stop, dry our eyes, lift them up and know that God's got this. He knows. He sees the situation and He will give us the strength to get through it. He'll make a way. So cry my friend. It's going to be ok.

I talk to God all day long. That's how I pray but today I was asked the question, why do I pray? I pray when I don’t know what to do. I’ve been a control freak my whole life. I don’t like the unknown. I like to know what I’m doing. I need a plan. Lately there have been many times that I’ve felt out of control. There are things I can’t fix or change so I pray until I can let it go. I pray when I want answers. Once again, wanting to have some kind of control. I've always felt if I had some kind of explanation, or understanding, I could deal with the circumstances better. I pray when my heart aches . My heart aches when I’m dealing with some kind of loss. It usually involves a relationship whether family or friend. I pray when I’m lonely. I’ve always been around people. I wouldn’t call myself an extrovert unless the situation calls for it, but I like being with others. I admire those who can go to a restaurant or to the movies and just enjoy themselves. That’s not me. I’m always aware of the empty seat beside me. There are many verses in the Bible where God tell us we’re never alone. Psalm 23 says He is by my side. Isaiah tells us not to be afraid because He is with us. So, trying to keep that in mind, I pray when I’m lonely. I pray when I need comfort. When my heart is aching, I need comfort. Talking to God brings me comfort. Sometimes all I need to is just sit quietly. Other times I vent it all out. I pray when I’m afraid. I hate to say it but this is probably 85% of my prayers. Most of the time, I have nothing to substantiate my fears other than a feeling but I’m sure you know that when you live by your feelings, you give them power. That’s never a good thing. I pray when others are suffering. This is a hard one because it involves all of of the above. I hate suffering. I want to fix things and make everything better but there are times there’s nothing I can do. But, I can pray. Why is it we think of prayer as our last resort? It should be the first thing we do in the morning and the last thing we do at night. We’re not talking to the air. Our words are not bouncing off the ceiling. They are being heard by God who is very much alive and loves us just as we are. As I looked at my answers, I realized it was pretty one sided. Prayer is communication and communication involves both sides getting the chance to talk. Prayer is not just about pleading or begging, it's about having an honest conversation with God. It's about letting ourselves let it all hang out and not being afraid, ashamed or guilty. He knows how we feel. He knows our hearts and He loves us no matter what. He wants our conversations to be two sided but in order to do that, we have to sit and listen. I can't even imagine how many times I've missed what He's had to say. To be honest, sometimes I'm afraid to hear what He has to say because my prayers haven't always been answered the way I had hoped. The Bible says that “the prayers of a righteous man are powerful and effective.” That's how I want to pray. I have changes to make but in order to do that, I have to be willing to accept His answers even if they don't match my own…if not, I'm just wasting my breath. Father, may I pray in faith knowing I can trust You with the outcome and grow in the knowledge that You are good and Your love never grows cold. Amen

Last night I happened to look at my Facebook page before going to bed. I saw a post from a friend that made my heart ache. Her beloved husband passed away suddenly at 40 years old leaving her and their nine year old daughter behind. They are numb with grief and shock. Grief is no respecter of persons. It comes like a thief in the night. Twenty-two years ago I was in that place. People meant well but I found the ones who truly brought comfort were the ones who had been where I was. They were the ones that knew what to say and sometimes they didn’t have to say anything at all. They were just there. Grief affects everyone but each of us will process it in our own way. First comes the shock and then you go numb. After that a myriad of emotions will surface such as sadness, loneliness, anger and depression. You can stuff everything inside, but the best thing to do is feel the emotions. Recognize them for what they are. They are not a sign of weakness. They are necessary for healing. The news of my friend’s husband brought back a flood of memories of how I immediately kicked into survival mode. I remember telling my children that we were not going to be mad at God. That was denial in its greatest form. Little did I know it was exactly what we needed to do. It was bound to happen and it didn’t help to deny it. Many years went by before I realized how angry I really was. I was angry at the doctors, myself, and my husband, but I was mostly angry at God because, after all, couldn’t He have prevented it? I was good at telling people how powerful He was and I believed He could do anything ...so why didn’t He?  I wrestled with this for a long time. For the first ten years, I couldn’t even pray. My faith was so shaken. My children were crushed. I was crushed. All I could do was go through the motions pretending I still believed. People would come to me and ask me to pray for them and I felt like a hypocrite. As I said before, each one of us processes differently. My children were grieving and I didn’t know what to do. Laura was 10 when Rob died. She was her Daddy’s little girl and suddenly there was a void I couldn’t fill. Laura and I would get helium balloons and write messages to Daddy on them and then go outside and send them to heaven. We'd watch until they disappeared above the clouds. One of my other children shut down emotionally. He cried the day his father died and never again. Every fiber of our faith was tested and some of us walked away from God for a long time. Some are still trying to figure it out to this day and I can’t help but wonder if they will ever reconcile with their grief. Recently someone reminded me of this verse, “He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief; and as one from whom men hide their faces, he was despised, and we esteemed him not.” Isaiah 53:3 It's talking about Jesus. I never gave much thought to His human side. He has emotions just like us. He grieves, just like us. He knows what it's like to be sad and suffer pain. Somehow, this brings me comfort. It reminded me that everything we go through, He did too. He understands our pain and our grief because He's been there. He didn't have to but He did it for me and for you. I don't know anyone who would do that, let alone God. He did it out of love. If anything I said resonates with you, I encourage you to grieve. Talk with someone, write out your thoughts. Feel the emotions and then lay it all at the feet of Jesus because He understands. If you need support, there's an organization called Grief Share. They will come alongside you. It doesn't matter how long it's been. Grief has no timeline. You'll never get over your grief but you will get through it.

Faith, hope and love,,,and the greatest of these is love. Love. It means one thing to some and different things to others. One definition that most of us are familiar with is “attachment or deep affection for another person.” We mostly use it as a verb and attach it to people, places or things. We even have a national holiday in celebration of it. Lately I've been thinking about another kind of love. It's the kind that never changes and has withstood the test of time. It is gentle and kind. It is patient and doesn't hold a grudge. It gives second chances and is deep and unconditional. I've been looking for this kind of love all my life but it has always been beyond my grasp. I didn't know why…until now. I've been looking for it in places it couldn't be found. I thought I had to earn it to be worthy of it. This has left me disappointed and heartbroken. 1 John 4:18 reads, “There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear. For fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fears has not been perfected in love.” Perfect love can't be earned. It needs only to be received. Sounds simple but it wasn't for me because something was standing in the way. In this age of self-awareness, I became aware of several things. First was a fear of rejection followed by fear of abandonment. As I've been dealing with them, I hoped to have a breakthrough in knowing the love of God. Fear just kept rearing it's ugly head. In His mercy, God didn't leave me there. I'm learning that breakthrough comes when we exhaust our own strength and give ourselves to God in total surrender. That's where I found myself today and it was at that point that He showed me what's been standing between us. It's the fear of not being loved. In that one moment it was as if the scales fell from my eyes. It explained all the performing, people pleasing and control. It showed me how that fear touched every area of my life and why I've always felt unworthy, especially with God. I've been so consumed with trying to earn His love while all along He was waiting for me to freely take it. Going forward, I don't know what it's going to look like. All I know is a weight lifted off of me and I know I don't have to strive to be loved. His love is perfect and as I receive it, the fear will leave because He said it would.

Growing up in the Catholic Church, I learned a prayer as a child. The words became repetitive and rote and they never had much significance…until now. I am currently enrolled in a course through my church. We are given assignments which involve reading various books, watching videos and writing papers. One of my latest assignments was to take a look at this prayer and pray it for 15 minutes a day for 7 days. On day 1, I didn’t get past the first two words. Day 2, the same thing happened. By Day 3, I knew something was happening deep in my soul. These are the first two words….Our Father. Father takes on a different meaning for different people. For me the word “father” brought up negative memories. As an adult, I began taking my faith more seriously and now that I looked at God as the Father, I couldn’t grasp the concept that He was “my” Father. As I prayed those first two words, I felt for the first time that God was my Father. The revelation hit me that Jesus, God’s only son, gave us this prayer. He told His disciples, “This is how you should pray…” He could’ve begun His prayer with just the word “Father,” or He could’ve said, “My Father,” but He didn’t. He said Our Father. God isn’t just the Father of Jesus, He’s yours and mine. We have the same right to come to Him as Jesus did because a high price was paid for it. The price was the life of His only Son and He paid it willingly for all of us. Those two words have changed my life. It has changed the way I pray and the way I think. I completed the assignment going through the rest of the prayer. I had a deeper understanding of it than ever before but it all started with the first two words. If, like me, your father wasn’t a good role model or maybe he was absent altogether, I’m willing to bet there has always been an empty place inside of you. I encourage you to try this assignment. I’ve talked with others in the class, and everyone came away with what they needed the most. Mine was knowing the love of God as my Father. As Jesus said: "This then is how you should pray: Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name, Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done, On earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our debts, As we forgive our debtors. And lead us not Into temptation, But deliver us from evil."

I love the sweet memories of my children when they were little. I remember one time when Joel was about 4. He.was up on a stage where he was fighting some monster and celebrating his victory as it was defeated. He thought no one was watching. Now that he's older, the monsters are bigger and the battle more intense. He gets so tired and weary that he forgets to celebrate the victories and he wonders if anyone is watching. Joel is a resident emergency room doctor. He chose that profession because of the suffering he's had to face in his own life. He just wants to help people. Last night he faced a terrible trial. At one point in his shift, someone was brought in with a life-threatening condition. My son found himself running alongside the gurney performing life sustaining measures as they rushed the patient into surgery. Despite all efforts, the patient didn't make it. Joel now had to make his way to the waiting room where a group of family members were praying and hoping for a miracle. As he broke the news, their world shattered, and people started screaming and wailing in grief. Joel went to back work also grieving. When I heard this story, I started to cry. Not just for the bereaved family but for my son. It's beyond me how anyone would want to put themselves in a position to witness such a loss over and over again when you've tried everything you know to prevent it. My heart aches for you Joel. There's nothing I can do to relieve your pain but pray. I went to my Bible to the book of Lamentations. I needed some hope and this is where my eyes landed: “I called on your name, O Lord, from the depths of the pit; you heard my plea, ‘Do not close your ear to my cry for help!’ You came near when I called on you; you said, ‘Do not fear.” Lamentations 3:55-57 Reading those words gave me comfort. They told me that God hears our cries. He's not oblivious to our pain. He cares and He will always come when we call on Him. So that is my prayer for you Joel, that you would call out to the One who loves you and is always there for you. You don't have to do this alone. He was there as you ran beside the gurney. He was there when you walked in the waiting room. He's there with you now. If you have a loved one or maybe it's you that are struggling through a hard time, I encourage you to call on God. He'll hear you. He will be with you and He will make a way to get You through. God never said it would be easy, but He did promise to be with us.

If you don't laugh, you'll cry. That has been my motto. Well, this was one of those times. Recently I was on a trip down south to visit my kids for the holidays. Since my kids are spread out in four different states, I decided to get the most bang for my buck and see as many of them as possible. The journey began as I flew to see my son and daughter-in-law in North Carolina. From there I took a bus to South Carolina to visit my daughter and her family. What should have been a four hour trip turned into 6-½ hrs as the bus broke down halfway there. There's a Bible verse that says, “‭‭Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds.” Needless to say, not one of my favorites. Joy is a choice and with joy, you can laugh. So, when the bus broke down, I decided to make the best of it, even when the lady behind me chose to change her daughter's dirty diaper and the fumes were overwhelming and when I hobbled off the bus with my bad knee to go find something edible in the dollar store. I ended up finding a generic lunchable with bologna and cheese. I couldn't bring myself to read the ingredients. (Actually part of me enjoyed it but that's our secret). What got me through was keeping my mind on where I was going…being with my family and seeing the smiles on my granddaughter's faces. For that, I would've climbed a mountain. The next leg of the journey involved another bus ride to Georgia a week later. After a nice visit with my oldest son and his family, he dropped me at the airport and this was where the “count it all joy” was going to make or break me. Since my knee was in rebellion, I arranged for a wheelchair to take me to my gate. If any of you have flown from Atlanta, you know this is one of the biggest airports in the world. When I arrived at the wheelchair assistance area, there were many people in front of me. I literally sat there until 10 min before my flight was boarding waiting for an escort. My panic level was very high even though I was assured I wouldn't miss my flight. When we arrived at TSA security, the line wasn't terribly long but the woman in front of me didn't have an acceptable ID and the line stopped moving. It gets better. We finally got around her to another agent and proceeded up to the conveyor belt where I placed my shoes and suitcases so they could be scanned. I stepped through the body scanner and waited for my things. My plane was now boarding. As my belongings came out of the machine, I quickly grabbed them only to find one of my shoes was missing! I think I went into shock. I searched other bins coming down the belt but my shoe was nowhere to be found. I was on the verge of hysteria. Count it all joy? Since I didn't have any other shoes, I knew leaving was not an option. Thankfully, they searched the machine and found it a few minutes later but the clock was ticking. We had to take two elevators, a train and race through hallways. As we rounded the corner to the gate we found an empty waiting room. All the passengers had boarded. As soon as she saw us, the agent at the gate said, Oh I thought my ladies were going to miss their flight! We made it with minutes to spare. Count it all joy. When I arrived at my assigned seat, there was a gentleman sitting in it. At this point, everything in me wanted to grab him by the shirt collar. Count it all joy. Instead, I politely informed him he was in the wrong seat. After giving me a deer in the headlights look, he moved over. I sat down and took some deep breaths to calm my racing heart. I've told this story many times. I realized I could share it with the frustration and anger that I felt at the time but it wasn't going to do me any good to revive those feelings. Instead I decided to count it all joy and bring joy to others by giving them a good laugh…the part about my shoe was the highlight. Life is hard. There's no way around it. We are all on our own journeys, some longer than others. Our stories are being written but we can choose how they end. If you know me, you know mine has been of paralyzing anxiety and fear. I don't want my story to end that way. God doesn't want it to end that way. My pastor said yesterday we need to say this to ourselves, “I'm not where I want to be but I'm not where I was.” A year ago, I would've never thought I would be flying all over the country let alone by myself. For me, it's about accepting the hard things I can't change and knowing I'm never alone. It's about believing there's always a light at the end of the tunnel even if I can't always see it. “The light shines in the darkness and the darkness has not overcome it.” John 1:5. The light is Jesus and because of Him, I can count it all joy.

There’s a book I read many years ago. It’s called “Hinds Feet on High Places.” It’s an allegory written about a little girl named, Much Afraid. Much Afraid was a member of the Fearing family. She had issues…some were physical but most of them were not. Her name says it all. Much Afraid worked for the Chief Shepherd who one day asked if she would like to go up the mountains to the High Places. He told her He would give her two companions to accompany her. Their names were Sorrow and Suffering. He said He would be with her all throughout her journey and she need only call out to Him and He would be there. In her heart, Much Afraid wanted to go but she was terrified of what could happen as she tried to climb with her disabilities, let alone hold the hands of Sorrow and Suffering. Her Fearing family tried to prevent her from going and almost succeeded but in the end she broke free of them and started the journey. Much Afraid encountered many obstacles as she climbed up to the High Places. Her Fearing relatives pursued her and her worst fears became a reality. Several times she tried to drop the hands of Sorrow and Suffering but each time she did, the fears would attack. Every time she felt there was no way out, she called out to the Shepherd who came immediately to her side as He promised and His perfect love cast out all her fear. Oh, how I identify with Much Afraid. I am that little girl who has been trying to climb the mountains of life to get to the High Places where there are no more tears. The difference between us is that for most of my life I have refused to hold the hands of Sorrow and Suffering. They’ve been with me all along but I felt that to embrace them would show weakness and admit defeat. What I didn’t realize was how much I needed them to reach the top. If you relate to this, you’ll know it’s not just a matter of embracing the pain and suffering in our lives but crying out to Jesus who will give us the strength to go through it. Personally, I am experiencing a season of incredible loss. The grief is so intense that I don’t know how I’m going to get through it but when I look up and cry out to Jesus, I feel a comfort that I can’t explain. I don’t understand why everything is happening all at once, but I do know that God knew it was all going to happen and has been preparing me for this time even though I don’t feel it. This week I flew out to Colorado. I have family here that I haven’t seen in eight years. We talked many times about me coming to visit but it never materialized until now. I was originally supposed to come last month but life happened and my trip was postponed. When I was on the plane, it felt surreal. My family has a home near the foothills of Pike’s Peak. If you go out on their deck, there is a spectacular view of the mountains. In fact, I took the picture posted in this post. On my second day here, I received the news that my dear friend had passed. That, with some other loss was too much to bear. I didn’t think I could handle it all. I went to the window and looked up at the mountains and I heard this verse, “I lift up my eyes to the hills. From where does my help come from? It comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth. He will not let your foot be moved; He who keeps you will not slumber” (Psalm 121:1-3). Is it a coincidence that I am here at this exact moment of time? What are the chances that I would be physically standing looking at one of the most breathtaking mountains in the country at a time of great sorrow and suffering? I have gone out to look at those mountains many times this week when the grief was threatening to overwhelm me. It’s been hard to wrap my head around the fact that God loves and cares about me so much that He would orchestrate time and events just to comfort me but He did, and He does, and He will. Each time I look up at those mountains, it gives me hope. In case you were wondering about Much Afraid, after a perilous journey, she reached the High Places where she was met by Jesus, the Chief Shepherd and Lover of her Soul. She still bore the scars of the journey but she was transformed. The Shepherd gave her a new name. She was now Grace and Glory. Her companions, Sorrow and Suffering, also received new names. They were now called Joy and Peace. As she headed back down the mountain, she knew she’d never be the same. She was a new creation. What I learned from this story was that Jesus always saw Much Afraid as the Grace and Glory she would become. That’s how He sees me. That’s how He sees you. Years ago He gave me a new name but it’s only been as I’ve held the hands of Sorrow and Suffering that I’ve seen it coming to pass. I am Freeindeed. What’s yours? He who the Son has set free is freeindeed.” John 8:36