I think that loneliness and regret are the two hardest emotions to deal with.
Loneliness can seep in and create a darkness that is suffocating. The silence, the emptiness, the ache for another human to be there can be painful. Physically painful. Loneliness is a hard emotion to handle. Loneliness is a hard emotion to live with.
Regret is just as painful. Only not the same. Regret causes tears, sorrow, questioning. Regret is a hard emotion to handle. Regret is a hard emotion to live with.
But combine the two? And life is almost unbearable. The weeping while questioning decisions that I made in my past haunt me. The sorrow that I feel in knowing how my decisions not only affect me but others as well. Namely my children.
Recently all my emotions came to a head. The loneliness was choking me and the regret of past choices was causing such a physical ache that I almost couldn't handle it.
I would cry myself to sleep. Then I would wake up with a sadness not knowing why...until I remembered. Then the crying would begin again. Throughout my day thoughts would come and go. And tears would suddenly swell in my eyes and trickle down my face at the memories.
My early twenties were the hardest years of my life. I had many things going against me. And through that I made some very poor choices. Choices I will regret until I die. Some choices may seem unmentionable. Yet I carry them within my heart everyday. Some choices I could give good excuses for. But in truth they are empty excuses. I have only myself to blame.
Through my decisions I have hurt many people, and some of these people are still hurting. Its hard to imagine when making decisions how that choice you make will affect that person and the rest of their life. Its hard to imagine when you are young how your choices will affect your future. And your children. My children beg me for a dad. Yet because of my bad choices they are without one.
If I could go back I would. The first thing I would do is to tell certain people how much I loved them and how much their presence in my life meant to me. Maybe it would have changed the course of time. And maybe not. Maybe some would still be alive. And maybe not.
While these thoughts of regret and loneliness have been swimming around in my head I have had healing. Through this healing I have come to understand that I may be suffering for the decisions now, but God can redeem. And in time I believe He will.
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Friday, October 7, 2011
Cake
Most of you who know me, know that I love.love.love to bake. All sorts of yummies and goodies and treats.
I thought it would be fun to have a weekly post, with the recipe and pictures of one of my latest baking adventure.
I'm starting this out out with a post about Rhianna's birthday cake.
Her birthday was almost three weeks ago, but there is a reason why it took me so long to do this post.
I had to get my nerve up to do it. I am a perfectionist to the worst degree. I expect perfection out of myself and nothing less. It gets tiring 'cause I never can really ever obtain that.
Anyhow.
The cake didn't turn out that great. In fact it was pretty ugly. But it was my very first cake that was a shape. And that is something to be proud of. Right?
And why should I be nervous about posting it?
You see. There is a blog called cakewrecks. I follow it daily for my daily dose of the giggles. It has pictures of goofy cakes that are messed up or ugly and they blog about them.
I was terrified someone would take the picture of the cake I am about to blog about and put it on that blog.
Then I figured, who cares, Rhianna loved it and that is all that matters.
So here goes.
My first attempt at a shaped cake.
*Disclaimer*
(Because I am a perfectionist I have to have an excuse when I do something that is not even remotely good)
I was very very tired when I did this cake. I had only a hour to do this cake, using frosting that takes a half hour to make. Did I mention I was very Very VERY tired when I made this cake? Because I was really Really REALLY tired when I made this cake.
Rhianna wanted a princess themed cake. I decided it would be fun to do a crown cake. Originally I was going to do sheet cakes and cut them in the shape of a crown and stack them.
Then one day at work I saw an angel food cake and starting thinking....
Instead of a flat cake in the shape of a crown, I could do a 3-D look. A round cake with the crown wrapped around it.
To start:
Then I kneaded the yellow into the fondant to color it the color of gold. I rolled it out and cut it into the correct shape and size. I carefully placed it around the cake, patching as I went.
Once the fondant was on the cake and I made a poor attempt of smoothing it, I colored the royal icing to make the gems.
Rhianna, being the sweetie that she is, picked green for the color of the icing for her name. "'Cause green is Reagan's favorite color."
And there is my first attempt at a shaped cake. I guess I can only get better from this point on!
At Rhianna's birthday party I had asked my four year old niece Molly to think of a shape she would like for her birthday cake 'cause I want to practice fun shaped cakes. Her response? "I'll take any shape but a rhombus". I 'bout howled with laughter.
*And please don't submit this to cakewrecks...I'd probably cry ;-)
I thought it would be fun to have a weekly post, with the recipe and pictures of one of my latest baking adventure.
I'm starting this out out with a post about Rhianna's birthday cake.
Her birthday was almost three weeks ago, but there is a reason why it took me so long to do this post.
I had to get my nerve up to do it. I am a perfectionist to the worst degree. I expect perfection out of myself and nothing less. It gets tiring 'cause I never can really ever obtain that.
Anyhow.
The cake didn't turn out that great. In fact it was pretty ugly. But it was my very first cake that was a shape. And that is something to be proud of. Right?
And why should I be nervous about posting it?
You see. There is a blog called cakewrecks. I follow it daily for my daily dose of the giggles. It has pictures of goofy cakes that are messed up or ugly and they blog about them.
I was terrified someone would take the picture of the cake I am about to blog about and put it on that blog.
Then I figured, who cares, Rhianna loved it and that is all that matters.
So here goes.
My first attempt at a shaped cake.
*Disclaimer*
(Because I am a perfectionist I have to have an excuse when I do something that is not even remotely good)
I was very very tired when I did this cake. I had only a hour to do this cake, using frosting that takes a half hour to make. Did I mention I was very Very VERY tired when I made this cake? Because I was really Really REALLY tired when I made this cake.
Rhianna wanted a princess themed cake. I decided it would be fun to do a crown cake. Originally I was going to do sheet cakes and cut them in the shape of a crown and stack them.
Then one day at work I saw an angel food cake and starting thinking....
Instead of a flat cake in the shape of a crown, I could do a 3-D look. A round cake with the crown wrapped around it.
To start:
Next, I iced the cake with a fudge frosting for the fondant to have something to stick to. Rhianna couldn't decide between a white or a chocolate cake. So I made it both flavors (White cake~Chocolate frosting).
The best part about frosting a cake? Licking the spoon!
Next step was to make the fondant. (Sorry, recipe is a secret :o)
Then I kneaded the yellow into the fondant to color it the color of gold. I rolled it out and cut it into the correct shape and size. I carefully placed it around the cake, patching as I went.
Once the fondant was on the cake and I made a poor attempt of smoothing it, I colored the royal icing to make the gems.
Rhianna, being the sweetie that she is, picked green for the color of the icing for her name. "'Cause green is Reagan's favorite color."
Rhianna was thrilled with her cake. She said it was the most beautiful cake she had ever seen. I realize that it is NOT the most beautiful cake that I have ever seen. But it is what it is. It made my girlie smile and it doesn't get any better than that.
However, it does look like she is cringing here. Doesn't it?
And there is my first attempt at a shaped cake. I guess I can only get better from this point on!
At Rhianna's birthday party I had asked my four year old niece Molly to think of a shape she would like for her birthday cake 'cause I want to practice fun shaped cakes. Her response? "I'll take any shape but a rhombus". I 'bout howled with laughter.
*And please don't submit this to cakewrecks...I'd probably cry ;-)
Sunday, October 2, 2011
Quiet Reflection
Sunday mornings I drop the kids off at church for Sunday School and I head back to the cemetery to have a chat with my dad.
I haven't been doing this for that long of a time. About a month ago it hit me that once I move, I won't be able to visit dad whenever I wanted.
And to be totally honest, I didn't make it there as often as I would have liked.
So I decided that a Sunday morning routine was in order.
I have found that I start to look forward to our visits. By Friday afternoon I look forward to the quiet time I have with my dad.
I take a cup of coffee and sit at the foot of his gravestone and just chat. I tell him what I'm sad about. I tell him what I'm thankful for. I update him on my week. I ask him questions. Questions that I would ask if he were alive. I always, always tell him how much I miss him and I don't think I can go another day without him. I.just.plain.miss.my.dad.
Often I pray to my heavenly Father. I ask Him for my needs and my desires. Sometimes I ask Him if He is still there and if He still hears me. Almost every single time, the clouds break open and the sun rays beam down upon me. I know that someday, on earth or in heaven, all the desires of my heart will be fulfilled.
I love my weekly talks with my dad. Its one things I will desperately miss when I'm moved.
A few weeks ago I noticed an older man from our church coming to visit his wife. I don't know him all that well, but we have some connections.
Last week I waved as he drove by. I knew that this was a hard place for him to come as well, yet he needed to come as badly as I did. His wife died 6 months or so ago and he misses her and needs the time to reflect and remember.
After church last week, I went up to him and spoke with him a few minutes about our common meeting place. He smiled with tears in his eyes and said "its hard to miss someone, isn't it?"
This morning was like other Sunday mornings.
I dropped the children off for Sunday School and then headed back the long, private lane to our cemetery.
I walked through the wet, muddy grass to dad's resting place. I squatted down in front of the stone. Staring at the words "Our Loving Father" printed so clearly on the top. As much as I want to fight it, tears come to my eyes and begin to fall down my cheeks. I know I shouldn't be so surprised to see his name etched into the stone. But every time I see it I gasp for breath. "It can't be true" I think to myself. "I can't be sitting in front of my dad's grave. This cannot be happening to me." One would think that after ten years I would have come to accept this fact. But I haven't yet. The thought of it still stuns me and stabs my heart.
As I sit in front of the marker, telling Dad about my week and the wonderful news that Tricia was being announced for peace at church. I knew how happy he would be at this. And I wanted to tell him. As I sit there in the bitter cold, sipping my hot coffee, I see a truck pull in the lane. It comes around the gravel drive and pulls up to my car. The older gentleman steps out and begins to walk across the grass. My dad was his great-nephew. So he knows why I'm there.
He stands a few feet from me as I walk towards him. He throws his arms around me and weeps on my shoulder. He says "We are both here for the same reason aren't we? We are here to remember and to reflect." We both cry for a moment while we hold each other. He then patted my arm and slowly turned to go. He needed to visit his wife and knew I needed to finish talking to my dad.
Later I saw him at church and he looked my way and smiled. While I always knew we had familial connections, I never had a personal connection with him before. Now I do. And I'm thankful for that.
Next week, on a Sunday morning, I'll expect to see him. We'll probably stop for a moment and grieve together. I'm thankful we will have each other on those mornings so it won't seem so empty and lonely.
Pray for us both, won't you?
I haven't been doing this for that long of a time. About a month ago it hit me that once I move, I won't be able to visit dad whenever I wanted.
And to be totally honest, I didn't make it there as often as I would have liked.
So I decided that a Sunday morning routine was in order.
I have found that I start to look forward to our visits. By Friday afternoon I look forward to the quiet time I have with my dad.
I take a cup of coffee and sit at the foot of his gravestone and just chat. I tell him what I'm sad about. I tell him what I'm thankful for. I update him on my week. I ask him questions. Questions that I would ask if he were alive. I always, always tell him how much I miss him and I don't think I can go another day without him. I.just.plain.miss.my.dad.
Often I pray to my heavenly Father. I ask Him for my needs and my desires. Sometimes I ask Him if He is still there and if He still hears me. Almost every single time, the clouds break open and the sun rays beam down upon me. I know that someday, on earth or in heaven, all the desires of my heart will be fulfilled.
I love my weekly talks with my dad. Its one things I will desperately miss when I'm moved.
A few weeks ago I noticed an older man from our church coming to visit his wife. I don't know him all that well, but we have some connections.
Last week I waved as he drove by. I knew that this was a hard place for him to come as well, yet he needed to come as badly as I did. His wife died 6 months or so ago and he misses her and needs the time to reflect and remember.
After church last week, I went up to him and spoke with him a few minutes about our common meeting place. He smiled with tears in his eyes and said "its hard to miss someone, isn't it?"
This morning was like other Sunday mornings.
I dropped the children off for Sunday School and then headed back the long, private lane to our cemetery.
I walked through the wet, muddy grass to dad's resting place. I squatted down in front of the stone. Staring at the words "Our Loving Father" printed so clearly on the top. As much as I want to fight it, tears come to my eyes and begin to fall down my cheeks. I know I shouldn't be so surprised to see his name etched into the stone. But every time I see it I gasp for breath. "It can't be true" I think to myself. "I can't be sitting in front of my dad's grave. This cannot be happening to me." One would think that after ten years I would have come to accept this fact. But I haven't yet. The thought of it still stuns me and stabs my heart.
As I sit in front of the marker, telling Dad about my week and the wonderful news that Tricia was being announced for peace at church. I knew how happy he would be at this. And I wanted to tell him. As I sit there in the bitter cold, sipping my hot coffee, I see a truck pull in the lane. It comes around the gravel drive and pulls up to my car. The older gentleman steps out and begins to walk across the grass. My dad was his great-nephew. So he knows why I'm there.
He stands a few feet from me as I walk towards him. He throws his arms around me and weeps on my shoulder. He says "We are both here for the same reason aren't we? We are here to remember and to reflect." We both cry for a moment while we hold each other. He then patted my arm and slowly turned to go. He needed to visit his wife and knew I needed to finish talking to my dad.
Later I saw him at church and he looked my way and smiled. While I always knew we had familial connections, I never had a personal connection with him before. Now I do. And I'm thankful for that.
Next week, on a Sunday morning, I'll expect to see him. We'll probably stop for a moment and grieve together. I'm thankful we will have each other on those mornings so it won't seem so empty and lonely.
Pray for us both, won't you?
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Simplification
About a year and a half ago I was meeting a friend at her house so we could take a trip to the shore for a photo shoot. As we were about to leave she flipped on her Roomba (robot vacuum cleaner) and let it do the work while we soaked up the sun on the beach. She raved at how wonderful it was and how it simplified her life. I've always kept this thought tucked away in my brain...
This friend of mine is a busy lady. An busy lady who is amazing. A wonderful wife and mom, nursing student, fabulous photographer, shopkeeper, and a caring friend. (Just to name a few). I think there are weeks that we are neck in neck in equal hecti-ness but I truly believe she has a busier life than me. If this vacuum simplifies her life...then it is a must have for me.
Fast forward to last night. I had a 30% off coupon for Kohls and was in dire need of a new vacuum. So all three kids and I headed to the store for an adventure. 'Cause Kohls with three kids can only be described as that. We checked out the vacuum's and I didn't like what I saw. For starters, you had to push all of them around the room tripping over a cord. Then I noticed that the Roomba was marked down to a reasonable price, and combined with my 30% off, plus getting Kohls cash...well, I thought it was a no-brainer.
On the way home I kept saying how much I was going to love coming home to a clean house and how Betsy just loves her Roomba. My darling Rhianna then proceeds to remind me of a sermon we had a few weeks ago about being careful about using the words love and hate. We should reserve love for God and family and hate for the devil and not use them so carelessly with other things. This is so true and I told her that was so...but I also told her that some Mommies are so busy that they would say that they really, Really, REALLY, like their robot vacuum.
Tonight the kids dashed around the house getting everything picked up so that we could turn on the vacuum. So much for my turning it on while I was at work. I guess if it gets them to clean up then....
We flipped it on and sat on the couch and watched it go after the dirt. How's that for lazy? I should've made us popcorn and it could have been our nightly entertainment. Forget lazy, how's that for pathetic?
After seeing it do my work for me I have to admit. I almost love it. But realizing I shouldn't love my robot I decided to just really, Really, REALLY like it. There may be a budding romance approaching.
Now for a robot window washer and dishwasher unloader. Who's with me?
This friend of mine is a busy lady. An busy lady who is amazing. A wonderful wife and mom, nursing student, fabulous photographer, shopkeeper, and a caring friend. (Just to name a few). I think there are weeks that we are neck in neck in equal hecti-ness but I truly believe she has a busier life than me. If this vacuum simplifies her life...then it is a must have for me.
Fast forward to last night. I had a 30% off coupon for Kohls and was in dire need of a new vacuum. So all three kids and I headed to the store for an adventure. 'Cause Kohls with three kids can only be described as that. We checked out the vacuum's and I didn't like what I saw. For starters, you had to push all of them around the room tripping over a cord. Then I noticed that the Roomba was marked down to a reasonable price, and combined with my 30% off, plus getting Kohls cash...well, I thought it was a no-brainer.
On the way home I kept saying how much I was going to love coming home to a clean house and how Betsy just loves her Roomba. My darling Rhianna then proceeds to remind me of a sermon we had a few weeks ago about being careful about using the words love and hate. We should reserve love for God and family and hate for the devil and not use them so carelessly with other things. This is so true and I told her that was so...but I also told her that some Mommies are so busy that they would say that they really, Really, REALLY, like their robot vacuum.
Tonight the kids dashed around the house getting everything picked up so that we could turn on the vacuum. So much for my turning it on while I was at work. I guess if it gets them to clean up then....
We flipped it on and sat on the couch and watched it go after the dirt. How's that for lazy? I should've made us popcorn and it could have been our nightly entertainment. Forget lazy, how's that for pathetic?
After seeing it do my work for me I have to admit. I almost love it. But realizing I shouldn't love my robot I decided to just really, Really, REALLY like it. There may be a budding romance approaching.
Now for a robot window washer and dishwasher unloader. Who's with me?
Friday, September 16, 2011
While You're Still Six
I have this weird thing of always taking pictures of my kids on the day before their birthday.
I know its kinda backwards, but I have my reasons.
Rhianna turned 7 today. I have a whole year of taking pictures of her when she is 7. But yesterday I had my last chance to get pictures of her when she was still 6. So that is what I did.
I know its kinda backwards, but I have my reasons.
Rhianna turned 7 today. I have a whole year of taking pictures of her when she is 7. But yesterday I had my last chance to get pictures of her when she was still 6. So that is what I did.
I love this one...I know her face is fuzzy but its because she was giggling so hard. And I love that sound.
After the pictures we went inside and got ready for bed. I tucked her in and told her I was going to finish her cookies for her school treat. She wanted 'princess gowns for the girls and castles for the boys'.
By the time I finished up all my cookie orders along with her cookies it was well past 2 am. I was insanely exhausted. For this wasn't the first night this week I saw 2 am.
As I lay in bed I couldn't help thinking about my girlie. I can't wait to see her future. To see how she grows into a Godly, beautiful young woman. But I can't help but mourn the passing time. It is going by so fast. She was born at 6:15 am so I knew that technically I had 4 more hours of her being 6.
I snuck out of bed and woke her up. I told her to go to my bed. When she groggily crawled in my bed I told her that I wanted to snuggle her while she was 6 and while she turned 7. She smiled softly and as she snuggled me she said "Mommy. I love you so much."
This morning I drug myself out of bed. Feeling every joint, every muscle and feeling sightly nauseous from exhaustion. Knowing that I had another rigorous day ahead of me. I wasn't sure if it had been worth it staying up that late the night before.
Rhianna went downstairs and peered into the box of cookies I had set aside for her. She slightly gasped and said "Oh. Mommy. They are so much more beautiful than I had hoped for." Then I knew. The exhaustion was completely worth hearing those words and seeing the joy on her face.
I have the sweetest daughter.Ever. She has her moments, but she is always concerned for other people's feelings and their happiness. She always wants to spread joy and love to those around her. I'm so blessed to call her mine.
I just hope she knows how special she is to me. I just hope that for every time I fail her as a mother she remembers the times I tried to do what was right.
I'm excited to experience '7' with her. I had nothing but joy experiencing '6'.
Hectic-ness
Hectic-ness.
I know its not technically a word but I cannot think of another word to describe my week.
Last week I started a part-time/full-time job at an Orchard. And I love it.
I give school tours. I pack fruit. I box produce. I stock shelves. I run.all.day. And I love it.
The work is insanely hard.busy.intense.fun.exhausting. And I love it.
I come home absolutely whipped.
This week I am working 6 days.
Along with:
An order of 45 dozen cookies.
An order of bread.
Cleaning a house. (not mine. sob)
Rhianna's birthday.
Which means:
A cake. (I'm making a crown shaped cake out of an angel food cake. :o)
A party.
Something extra special. (I'm getting her balloons and flowers on my lunch to give her after school when she walks to the orchard...she will be so excited!)
Oh. Yeah.
And school.
Essays. Power points. Discussions. You get it.
I think there is something else that I had to do. Or maybe I already did it. Or maybe I forgot what it was. Humm? Oh well.
Needless to say I am so tired that I am nauseous and I even feel the joints in my toes.
Tonight I didn't think I could go any further. I just wanted to crawl in bed and sleep for at least 16 years.
After dinner I told the kids that I was laying down on the couch and sleeping for awhile. They each had two jobs.
Riley had homework and needed to wash a load of towels for me.(Yes, I'm that mean. My 8 year old can do my laundry :o)
Rhianna needed to do her homework and unload the dishwasher.
Reagan had to clean his room and Rhianna's room (he trashed it last night).
Me? I was going.to.sleep.
I woke up about an hour later to hear my kids playing together in the basement.
I looked around and saw that the dishwasher was in fact empty and the dishes put away.
I ran downstairs and took clean towels out of the dryer (the sweetie put them in the dryer for me too!!)
I headed upstairs and both bedrooms were spotless.
Then it hit me.
My kids are amazing.
Fantabulously amazing. No. That's not a word either, but I think it should be. And it should be reserved to describe how amazing my kids are.
I gave them a bedtime snack and they willingly went up to bed.
They even stayed in bed and didn't come downstairs. Even once.
I realized how blessed I am to have these children. While they can be such hard work and so difficult at times I have to realize how amazing they are. There aren't too many 8 year olds that can and will wash a load of towels for his mom. There isn't too many 6 year olds that can and will empty a dishwasher. And there aren't too many 5 year olds that can clean two bedrooms (Okay...so Riley admitted to helping him. Reagan is such a spoiled little guy...typical youngest :o)
This children haven't really had the easiest life. I just hope they grow up and not resent me for my bad choices and how they affected them but that they grow up and see that I did my best. That I love 'em with all my heart. That they truly are my most prized possessions and they are unbelievably special to me.
I couldn't do this without them.
I know its not technically a word but I cannot think of another word to describe my week.
Last week I started a part-time/full-time job at an Orchard. And I love it.
I give school tours. I pack fruit. I box produce. I stock shelves. I run.all.day. And I love it.
The work is insanely hard.busy.intense.fun.exhausting. And I love it.
I come home absolutely whipped.
This week I am working 6 days.
Along with:
An order of 45 dozen cookies.
An order of bread.
Cleaning a house. (not mine. sob)
Rhianna's birthday.
Which means:
A cake. (I'm making a crown shaped cake out of an angel food cake. :o)
A party.
Something extra special. (I'm getting her balloons and flowers on my lunch to give her after school when she walks to the orchard...she will be so excited!)
Oh. Yeah.
And school.
Essays. Power points. Discussions. You get it.
I think there is something else that I had to do. Or maybe I already did it. Or maybe I forgot what it was. Humm? Oh well.
Needless to say I am so tired that I am nauseous and I even feel the joints in my toes.
Tonight I didn't think I could go any further. I just wanted to crawl in bed and sleep for at least 16 years.
After dinner I told the kids that I was laying down on the couch and sleeping for awhile. They each had two jobs.
Riley had homework and needed to wash a load of towels for me.(Yes, I'm that mean. My 8 year old can do my laundry :o)
Rhianna needed to do her homework and unload the dishwasher.
Reagan had to clean his room and Rhianna's room (he trashed it last night).
Me? I was going.to.sleep.
I woke up about an hour later to hear my kids playing together in the basement.
I looked around and saw that the dishwasher was in fact empty and the dishes put away.
I ran downstairs and took clean towels out of the dryer (the sweetie put them in the dryer for me too!!)
I headed upstairs and both bedrooms were spotless.
Then it hit me.
My kids are amazing.
Fantabulously amazing. No. That's not a word either, but I think it should be. And it should be reserved to describe how amazing my kids are.
I gave them a bedtime snack and they willingly went up to bed.
They even stayed in bed and didn't come downstairs. Even once.
I realized how blessed I am to have these children. While they can be such hard work and so difficult at times I have to realize how amazing they are. There aren't too many 8 year olds that can and will wash a load of towels for his mom. There isn't too many 6 year olds that can and will empty a dishwasher. And there aren't too many 5 year olds that can clean two bedrooms (Okay...so Riley admitted to helping him. Reagan is such a spoiled little guy...typical youngest :o)
This children haven't really had the easiest life. I just hope they grow up and not resent me for my bad choices and how they affected them but that they grow up and see that I did my best. That I love 'em with all my heart. That they truly are my most prized possessions and they are unbelievably special to me.
I couldn't do this without them.
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Rip Tide
I remember sitting in 7th grade Science class studying geography and the like.
I remember studying rip tides and the thought terrified me. I imagined playing in the surf, close to shore and then all of a sudden, without warning, being swept out to sea. I imagined the terror of being lost at sea forever. Most likely my wild imagination made things worse for me but I will never forget my fear of rip tides.
My fear came true. I've experienced being drug back out to sea by a rip tide.
I was paddling to shore. I was so close to my destination. It was within sight. Almost within reach and all of a sudden I hit the current and was pushed back out to sea.
I still know my destination. I still have faith that I am paddling in the right direction. Things are just not going smoothly. I'm experiencing some rough waters. Some might call it a storm.
Through this storm I was feeling very alone. God seemed to be so very far away. I know in my head He is so close. He is carrying me through this. I know in my head He has a plan. He will be glorified through me fighting this tide.
But my heart?
My heart feels so alone. But I'm trusting. I'm patiently paddling my little boat. I'm fighting for all I'm worth, knowing that someday I will come ashore and it will be wonderful.
Today, I was listening to a sermon. The subject was 'storms of life'. One of my favorite stories in the Bible is the story of the disciples in the boat, on the Sea of Galilee. The one where Jesus was tired and went to sleep and the storms came.
Just like me. Just like right now. Jesus isn't 'asleep'. But He is silent. For the time. I need to have faith that this quiet isn't accidental. It is to strengthen me. It is to make me stronger. I need to stop fighting the storm myself and just rest in Him and wait it out. I do not have the physical, emotional or mental strength to fight this storm. I might as well rest next to Jesus while it roars around me.
Can my readers pray for me? Pray that I will keep peace, keep the strength, keep resting and waiting?
I remember studying rip tides and the thought terrified me. I imagined playing in the surf, close to shore and then all of a sudden, without warning, being swept out to sea. I imagined the terror of being lost at sea forever. Most likely my wild imagination made things worse for me but I will never forget my fear of rip tides.
My fear came true. I've experienced being drug back out to sea by a rip tide.
I was paddling to shore. I was so close to my destination. It was within sight. Almost within reach and all of a sudden I hit the current and was pushed back out to sea.
I still know my destination. I still have faith that I am paddling in the right direction. Things are just not going smoothly. I'm experiencing some rough waters. Some might call it a storm.
Through this storm I was feeling very alone. God seemed to be so very far away. I know in my head He is so close. He is carrying me through this. I know in my head He has a plan. He will be glorified through me fighting this tide.
But my heart?
My heart feels so alone. But I'm trusting. I'm patiently paddling my little boat. I'm fighting for all I'm worth, knowing that someday I will come ashore and it will be wonderful.
Today, I was listening to a sermon. The subject was 'storms of life'. One of my favorite stories in the Bible is the story of the disciples in the boat, on the Sea of Galilee. The one where Jesus was tired and went to sleep and the storms came.
The minister spoke on this story. He said that Jesus told them before they got in the boat that they were going to the other side of the sea. Jesus knew the storm was coming. If He thought that the boat would sink and they would all die wouldn't He have said that they would make it to the other side? No. He said we are going to the other side.
The minister added "If God leads you somewhere, know that you will get there. Even when a storm comes. You will arrive."
Once they were in the boat, Jesus went to sleep. It wasn't an accidental sleep. It was planned rest. God knew that Jesus would need to be asleep to test the disciples faith and strengthen it to make it stronger.
Just like me. Just like right now. Jesus isn't 'asleep'. But He is silent. For the time. I need to have faith that this quiet isn't accidental. It is to strengthen me. It is to make me stronger. I need to stop fighting the storm myself and just rest in Him and wait it out. I do not have the physical, emotional or mental strength to fight this storm. I might as well rest next to Jesus while it roars around me.
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