Wandering Feet

I have what I call "wandering feet". I love to travel. I love to plan. Which means as soon as one trip is over, I'm ready to plan the next. There are so many exciting and exotic places to see, interesting people to meet, new things to try. I want to visit New York, California, Colorado, Missouri, Great Britian, New Zealand, Washington State...a meaningful visit to each of the fifty states, and at least one visit to each continent would be nice, just put it on my tab. Sure, it may never happen, I may end up a pastor's wife in a little town in the south, with just enough money to support us and our eight kids. ;) But hey, it's always fun to dream!

One of the best things about travelling is having a home to return to. Somewhere that everything is familar, where you settle in to your usual routine just as if you had never left your doorstep. But home is not meerly a home with four walls and a roof, it's the people that it holds within. It is the joy of recounting your personal travels to an eager audience, or reminescing about shared memories. Our laughter and our memories are the glue that binds us together. Because no matter where we go, nor how far we wander, wherever those that are closest to our hearts reside will be the most precious spot on this earth.

Wearing Our Masks

"But our wounds are part of who we are and there is nothing left to chance. And pain's the pen that writes the songs that call us forth to dance" - Michael Card

"...the experiences of our lives, when we let God use them, become the mysterious and perfect preparation for the work he will give us to do." - Corrie ten Boom

I've begun to realize more and more how often we have particular masks we hide behind - myself being no exception. The pain, the tears, the heartache are hidden behind the masks we put on when we go out the door. We're hurting, bleeding to death on the inside. To reveal this to others, even our closest friends, can be painful. It's admitting that we are weak and imperfect. It hurts our pride, especially when it appears that everyone else around us has everything together. If only we realized that so often they, too, are wearing their own masks.

The skeletons in the closet haunt us. Even in the deepest, darkest corner, they are glow like the day, threatening to escape into the open at a moments notice. We are ashamed of what others might think if they saw them and are contantly pushing them deeper into the darkness.

The deep wounds we receive always leave a scar. Sometimes it is noticeable, sometimes it fades over time, and sometimes it simply scabs over until there's an opportunity for it to reopen. None of us can make it through life without procuring at least one of these wounds, and some of us will have many. They are the battlescars of life.

The echoing question is "Why?". Occasionally we will receive an answer, though it is not always immediate. Why is there so much hurt and pain? Why does this have to happen to me? The two quotes I've posted at the top have been comforting in the midst of my pain. There is nothing, nothing, left to chance. God has choreographed the dance of our lives, and perhaps the pain is a necessary warm-up for a glorious moment later on in our lives. Or perhaps, as painful as the moment may be, it is the best way for Yahweh to be glorified through us. It could be the supporting beams of our witness to the world for Christ. We won't always know the purpose behind the pain, but one thing we can do is glorify and exhalt Him no matter what happens. Soli Deo Gloria!

Random Ramblings

Every year, just about this time, I become terribly sick with spring fever. Everything gets a cleaning or some organizing, and my blog is no exception. As you may notice, whenever the content starts to change so does the name. (If you see anything you hate, or I remove something that you enjoy/use, let me know!) As of late, I've been rambling on more than usual, which has prompted the title change - a shift from dry writing to hopefully a peek into the mercies of God in my day-to-day life. This doesn't mean I won't be starting anymore dicussion or debates (anyone that know me well knows that I'm always up for a good dicussion!), but that posts related more personally to me will be appearing in-between. Hopefully my readers will be able to look past my ramblings and see the glories of my King. As always, to Him alone be the glory!

Sweet Memories

Memory. It's such a fascinating thing. Our memories are one of the few things that will stick with us for nearly all our lives, the one thing that we can consistently carry (more-or-less) with us through most circumstances. Memory and laughter are also the glue that binds people together. There's a connection you create when you start to spend time with people, stories are lives that will be recounted later on, bringing laughter or tears to those that shared the same experience.

This week was a wonderful time of memory making. I enjoyed the opportunity to attend the Greenville Spring Theological Conference. Originally I was worried that being gone right before the homeschool ball would create problems, but it ended up being the best thing I could've done. Instead of spending three days worrying about ball preparations, I spend three delightful days learning about the Holy Spirit, laughing, and fellowshipping with friends. I'm thankful the Lord worked everything out so that a family was willing to let me tag along. Now I have so many good memories for that week of both fun and serious conversations, random jokes and comments, and shared experiences. I wouldn't change it for the world. The other thing I've made memories of was the homeschool ball. This was the biggest, craziest thing I've ever done, but with the help of the Lord, it was a sucess. God brought all these different gifted people together that really helped me get everything done. I had so much fun before the ball even began, as we laughed and decorated together. Then there was the people helping behind the scenes at the ball, keeping the food trays filled and working the sound. The people way up on my grateful list, though, are those that stayed behind to help put things away after the ball was over, even with the daylight savings time change and living up to an hour away! I was prepared to not leave until after midnight, since I was certain that next to no one would want to stay and put everything away. But Yahweh is good, and blessed me with so many people helping that we were finished up within the hour. I am amazed at the goodness of God, and the selfless people He sent to help me!

Now it is time to move forward. To fill that gap that ball planning used to fill. To prepare for the next big thing. But still, I'll look back and smile when I think about harps and heaven, drink out of a water fountain, sing Psalm 98A, see a lamp post, look at my Narnia quotes and posters, think of Sharon Presbyterian, or when some random memory from the past week suddenly pops into my head. And I'll thank God for His good gifts towards me, because I certainly don't deserve all this.

Rambling Nonsense Induced by Hospital Stays

Wait, wait and wait some more. I've never really been the most patient person to begin with, but when you're holding a sick loved one with no idea exactly what's going on, it is one of the most difficult things in the world. You can't make cultures grow rapidly. But then when they do finally come back, and things look rather fine, everyone is confused as to exact what is going on. Maybe we'll never know exactly what is going on. But it is a comfort to know that there is one who that know exactly what is going on, and He is overseeing everything.

It is easy to feel discouraged and hopeless. They keep poking and looking, poking and looking, but a decent vein is hard to come by. There are desperate, pleading prayers rising from the bedside. Usually they will end up finding something. If not, I know Someone has a better plan.

I look for wisdom from the doctors, hoping they will know what to do. But when they shrug their shoulders, I realize that wisdom must come from on high. That is where trust must be placed, not in man.

I'm tired of choosing meals, lack of sleep, not being together as a family, missing out on church services, and seeing my baby brother look so skinny. I want to go home, back to regular routines and normal life. But God is working here. How exactly, I don't completely know yet. I may, in fact, never know. One thing I know is that God wrote the poem of my life, and I will excitedly wait for each new step as He leads me closer to Him.

Another Trip Around The Sun

Reading over my journals from this past year, it's hard to believe that only a year has passed by. It has been a full year, full of both sorrows and joys. Probably more than anything else, it was a year of firsts. I rode in an ambulance. I had my first paid calling gig. I enjoyed my first Greenville conference. I visited breath-taking Lookout Mountain for the first time. For the first, and hopefully last time, I got stuck in a parking lot on a concrete barrier at Covenant College. I watched the first of my siblings get married. For the first time, I was the administering shots. It was my first time staying at the hospital for over a week straight. It was the beginning of the Tummas Dance Group. Of course there was the other highlights like finishing Les Miserables (the book), seeing the play Les Miserables, dancing at Fandango, enjoying food and friends numerous times, finishing my JT400 quilt, and countless other memories that were made over this past year. I spent many lovely hours chatting with my dear friend Hannah, who is always there, willing to talk with me about what's going on and always giving me new ideas and inspiration. I enjoyed getting to know the sweet, godly Londa better through her blog and emails, and looked forward to each long email as she willingly befriended me even though I am several years her senior. I was stretched through Isaiah's blog and our occasional discussions as he helped me see both sides of the issue. I enjoyed getting to know Amy and seeing how well she complements Jason. I had fun going to conference with Jason and all the discussions we were able to have. Then of course there was the late nights Jen and I would spend talking about everything and anything. I met new people through our dance group. There were many good times, but there were many hard times too. That is one thing that Yahweh has really taught me this year - trust. To trust in Him for the future. To trust Him when I worried about my youngest brother. To trust Him when things didn't go the way I wanted. To trust Him in everything - everything. It hasn't always been easy, but by God's grace He has taught me to trust in Him more deeper and fully than I ever have before. As I stand on the edge of 2011, I look forward to (Lord Willing) Greenville, BWSC, surgeries over with, getting medical training, and hopefully hosting Nor'easter, just to name a few. But even more than all that, I can't wait to see what the Lord has in store for me and what He will teach me this coming year as He leads me heavenward.

I open the blinds. The day is dark and dreary. I glance over at crib to see if its precious cargo is still asleep. I watch him sleeping peacefully and soundly. It is no wonder he is sleeping so well considering everything he went through in the ER last night. Strange how he can quickly drop from good to bad.

This visit started with Jon having breathing problems. He was breathing hard and fast, and it was after-hours, so we were advised to go ahead and take him to the ER. The emergency department can be a scary place. There is much waiting, and plenty if time to wonder when you will be able to go home and how sick he is. If he is sick enough to be admitted, then it will most likely be close to 7am before you will be able to go to bed. You wait - for the next procedure, the next test result, the next doctor to discuss options.

Here in the hospital room is one of the loneliness places to be. You are by yourself with the patient much of the time, left to worry about their condition, until a doctor, nurse, CNA, or other medical personelle come in and draw you - temporarily - out of your ponderings.

You often can't do much else than hold his hand while he cries during a painful procedure. I ponder how difficult and excruciating it must have been for Mary to watch her Son suffering so much, yet only able to stand on the sidelines and watch as He gave up His life.

The single most comforting thought is not that he receives such good medical care (though it is excellent at Levine), but that he is in the best hands possible - Gods. I recognize that it is all in His hands, no matter what the outcome is. So I put my trust in Him and watch Him work all things together for good. No matter what happens, may His name be glorified.