I am sitting in a cool room, lit by golden beams of sunlight streaming through the window. Looking out I see cardinals flit to and fro around the backyard, as well as the occasional bright color of a butterfly fluttering past. I am surrounded by the voices of my children, as they laugh and play in the next room with their neighborhood friends. All afternoon I’ve been mentally working on a grocery list, while Jon’s been tending to the yard work. In the background I hear the low hum of the dishwasher as it completes its cycle. And though I wish I could imagine it away, I know there is still a smallish mountain of laundry just waiting to be washed and dried and folded. It’s another perfectly normal day and somehow everything seems right in my little world ... just as it did ten years ago, before the towers fell.
Ten years ago in late August, I moved with my family to Monterey, CA. Joel was 17 months old. I was 7 months pregnant with Nathan. We moved there because my husband was in Army training, learning the Arabic language oddly enough. At the time, my biggest problem was figuring out childcare for my toddler when I went to my OB appointments every other week now that we were living in a new home so far away from all of our loved ones.
On the morning of September 11th, I was awakened by a phone call from Matt. It was very early in CA. I remember him saying that I should turn on the TV because something big was happening. I stumbled into the living room and turned on the news just in time to watch second plane crash into the WTC.
I had a terrible knot in my stomach. After a few quick minutes, I turned it off. For the rest of the day, I simply cared for my toddler, trying to pretend that life was the same, even though I knew that life would never quite be the same again.
Every so often over the next few days, I would try to watch a bit of the news coverage, but I never really could watch for very long before I would turn the TV back off. I told myself it was because I didn’t want Joel to watch those images. That was true, but honestly it was more because I didn’t want to watch those images either.
During those first few days and weeks following 9/11, time seem to drag by so slowly. I was always hyper-aware that we had been attacked and that our nation was at war with an unseen foe. But somehow, after a while, life sort of moved on. Within just a couple of months of 9/11, I had a new son to care for as well as a very active toddler to keep up with ... my life was moving forward and I was busy trying to keep up!
And now, ten years have passed. Ten autumns, ten winters, ten springs, ten summers ... full circle and back around.
Ten years ... yet somehow it doesn’t truly seem like it was all that long ago.
Ten years ago, I didn’t know that my precious toddler would grow into a tall, lanky young man, who would someday wear glasses. I certainly didn’t imagine that my sensitive boy would turn out to have a heart of courage. He grew into this child who wrote letters to presidents, won math bees, ran for office at his school clubs, asked his friends to donate money to children in Iraq instead of giving him birthday gifts. All I knew then was that his sweet, shy smile that melted my heart, and ten years later that still hasn’t changed.
Ten years ago, all I knew about Nathan was his name ... and that he kicked harder than his older brother. My California Beach Boy was born into post 9/11 America. Over the years he has grown into a chubby baby with the great laugh and then transformed with time into a handsome 9 year old ... big dimples, bright blue eyes, and a personality as big as his 5‘ 0”, 110 lb frame. He has 1001 interests and at least that many talents. Intensely loyal. Protector of the right. Defender of the weak. This is the son I carried ten years ago today.
Ten years ago, I never even dreamed that I’d be the mother of a little girl. But two years after 9/11, Julia breathed her first breath, and I’m forever blessed because of her pinkish giggles, purple ponies, and passion for life. Full of cuddles and hugs, yet fiercely strong-willed. Ten years ago today I didn’t know how much I needed my Julia.
Ten years ago I was married to another man. I thought I was going to die when my marriage fell apart. But God picked up the ashes of my life and molded it into something much more beautiful than I ever dreamed possible. Because of that, when I look back upon the last ten years of my life, I see ten years of blessings.
Of all the blessings from the past ten years, the best of them all has been Jon.
Jon. Tall, hazel-eyed, guitar-playing Jon. Like a warm wind blowing on a cool spring day ... like a cold glass of lemonade in the heat of summer ... like toasting cold fingers in front of a flickering fire on a brisk autumn night ... like gingerbread smells and singing familiar carols in the deep of winter ... my Jon. Comfortable. Cozy. Wrapped up in love. His name means “God has given” and that is exactly what he is ...a gift to me from God.
And so Jon brought to me blessing after blessing after blessing. Through his love, I gained two beautiful daughters ... Maddie, brown-eyed beauty with the gift of humor and laughter, and sweet, freckled Meg with the heart of gold. He gave me new friends to count among those old and dear. He gave me new perspectives on life. He brought me to a new place to call home. Through Jon I was given a new life, all fresh and bright again. These were my gifts, given to me by God through Jon. Ten years ago, I never knew what was going to happen, how my life would change, how a personal tragedy would eventually turn my life into something far more meaningful.
Grace has that sort of affect, I think. I look back on my life with grace-colored glasses and see the fingerprints of God over it all.
Grace has been poured upon my life, drenching my spirit and now everything has changed. Not perfect or without flaw because we still live in a fallen world and long for the perfection of paradise. Yet with grace, grace, grace we catch a glimpse of God’s glory.
This has been my life the past decade or so. From day to day it doesn’t seem like much ever happens, and yet when looked back on all at once ... well, my how things have changed! And all I did in the interim was live.
That’s the thing that seems so shocking and stunning about 9/11. All those victims ... those faces ... those numbers ... they represented real people. People who were in the middle of living life. On September 11, 2001 they were just working or taking trips or running errands. Life was happening and then suddenly, unexpectedly, tragically it was over.
In the past ten years, I’ve often heard it said that on September 11, 2001 life as we knew it in America ended. Perhaps. But I can honestly say that I don’t really live my life much differently than I did ten years ago. I still do the things I’ve always done ... care for my family, go to church, shop, drive, travel, etc. There’s no fear. I don’t do these sorts of things differently. Life’s not changed in that way. Not in the day to day living.
And yet, I can’t help but think of 9/11 and grieve for all the lives lost ... lives lost in planes crashes, burning buildings, toppling towers, and even on the battlefield in the Middle East. Living life as each of us do, one breath at a time, only to suddenly find that the next breath doesn’t come. Life is over. Life is done.
And this is the tragedy of 9/11 ... the senseless deaths of so many who were just going about life.
This morning, at about 9:15 am, I sat next to my Maddie-girl as she prayed and asked Jesus Christ to be her Saviour and to give her the blessed assurance of heaven. I don’t know if there is a greater joy on this earth than watching a person (especially when it is your child) experience the grace of Christ for the first time.
What Maddie did this morning has given her peace ... peace that when the tragedies come and the towers fall, she will not be alone. She has assurance that in her life there will be grace ... grace to drench her spirit and grace to turn her ashes into beauty. But mostly, she now knows that when life stops for her, when she no longer takes a new breath, that she will step into paradise ... perfect paradise where grace will no longer be needed.
When we turn to God and accept His grace in our life, falling towers can no longer threaten us. We will be able to live confidently in knowing that bad times and tragic events may happen, but God will not let us go. We will not fear for we are not alone. No matter what happens here on earth, the best is yet to be when we finally draw our last breath and go home to paradise in the presence of our Saviour.
No, I will never forget what happened on 9/11/01. But, I’ll never forget what happened on 9/11/11 either ... for in the grand scheme of life, the hope and the peace of salvation is far, far more important than the chaos of tragedy.
My prayer for each of my friends is this ... that He would grant you, according to the riches of His glory to be strengthened with might through His Spirit in the inner man, that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith; that you being rooted and grounded in love, may be able to comprehend with all the saints what is the width and length and depth and height, to know the love of Christ which passes knowledge; that you may be filled with all the fullness of God.”
Showing posts with label Blessings. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Blessings. Show all posts
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Monday, August 16, 2010
Make Yourself At Home
For the past couple of years, my life has felt slightly unsettled, as if I am just waiting around for something new to happen. The first 18 months following the death of my marriage three years ago, I mourned and grieved and literally focused on taking one breath at a time as I tried to figure out how to live again. Then one day I realized that I had entered a new phase, for I was no longer walking around in a haze of grief. Joy and peace had returned to my life once again. And there was something new ... hope. I hadn't felt hope in a long time, but there is was and I was so happy to discover that glimmering friend again.
Hope brought an interesting response from me. As I began to hope, I began to dream again. And as I dreamed big dreams for my future, I began to feel as if I were waiting ... waiting on those dreams to become reality. It doesn't so much matter what the dreams are, for there are several dreams for my future that I hold dear to my heart. What does matter is that I put myself in a holding pattern while I was waiting and hoping for my future, instead of embracing what my life is right now.
I will be the first to admit that waiting can be a good thing. After all, when we wait for something that we really desire, it is all the more precious to us when it finally is ours because of the wait that we endured. But waiting can also cause us to become inactive participants in life. Such was the case with me.
This past Saturday morning I had a big ole self-pity party going on before I ever even crawled out of bed. I was fighting off a lot of negative emotions, one of which was a feeling of being unsettled in my life. I cannot fully describe all of the ways that I feel unsettled .... there is my job and the sporadic childcare that I've had since I moved last summer. But perhaps one of the biggest reason for the unsettled feeling is the lack of close friends in the area that I am living currently. This is odd to me, for as a former military spouse I moved frequently. I have friends from every military installation where my ex-husband was stationed. I never had a problem finding friends, and have many close friends from those places. I cherish those friends who live in Virginia, Michigan, Washington and Texas. Obviously, though, all of these close friends live a little too far away to call up for a spur of the moment lunch invitation.
I've lived on both coasts and quite a few states in between, and yet by far the move I made last summer from my hometown to my current home in Jena (a mere 30 miles apart) has been the hardest move I've ever made out of 16 moves in my adult life. It's been 15 months since I unpacked the boxes in my new home, and I still cannot seem to find my legs here. I have no doubt about the fact that God wanted me to move to Jena. It's very clear that I was called to come live in this place for this season of my life. Truly, there is so much that I enjoy about life here. I love my little house. I go to a wonderful church. My kids attend a great school. I think Jena is a sweet and safe town. And I have many wonderful acquaintances that I've grown to love ... yet I do not have a single close friendship in this place, and as a result, I feel unsettled and a little lonely.
So Saturday morning, I complained to God about the lack of friends and the loneliness and the unsettled feeling I have about living here. And do you know how He responded? He said:
"Paige, I do not think people who have yet to hang up curtains should complain about feeling unsettled."
Me: "What do curtains have to do with me feeling unsettled?"
God: "You've lived in your home well over a year now. You haven't hung up any curtains. Are you planning to stay? Generally, when people plan to stay, they hang up curtains."
Me: "Well ... I'm not planning to go."
God: "That's not what I asked. I asked if you were planning to stay."
Me: "Okay ... here's the deal. My job isn't here. Child care has been sporadic and undependable. And I don't have any friends here. I keep pushing on doors and pushing on doors and pushing on doors ... but none of them open. And as a result, I don't feel settled. Why should I hang up curtains? What does that have to do with anything anyway?"
God: "The truth is, Paige, that you don't know how much longer you will be here ... it could be 2 days, 2 weeks, 2 months, 2 years or 2 decades. It really doesn't matter. I asked you to come here and live. So live here ... make yourself at home, Paige. Hang a few curtains."
So, I lay there and pondered curtains and why I hadn't yet hung any. There were a few good reasons. (Well, reasons anyway. I suppose that it could be debated over whether or not they were good reasons.) On reason was that I had never hung curtains before and I wasn't really sure I knew how. I mean, I knew that it couldn't be that hard to hang up curtains, but what if I hung them wrong. What if they were crooked and people came over to my house and laughed at my curtains hanging over the windows because they weren't even? Besides, I didn't even own a drill, for Pete's sake! How could I hang up curtains without a drill? And finally, what if I went to the store, selected some curtains for my windows, came home and hung them up and then hated the way they looked ... why, it would be a lot of money down the drain! I don't have a lot of money. It is just easier to have bare windows than to risk failure.
Somehow though, I realized that this really wasn't about curtains. It was about me choosing to LIVE my life, instead of simply BIDING my time.
As a Christian, I know that this world is not my home. My final destination is heaven. I long for heaven and to be with my Saviour. But we can't just sit around waiting for God to take us home. In fact, Jesus warned us about that in the parable about the talents, which is found in Matthew 25. When Christ returns, He wants to find that we have been busy working for His kingdom ... not that we have been sitting around awaiting His return. So as much as I want to go to heaven and live in paradise, while I am on this earth I need to be about the Father's business.
Mercy Me has a new album titled The Generous Mr. Lovewell that I've been enjoying lately. The first song is called This Life, and the lyrics have been haunting me for the past couple of weeks, encouraging me to make the most of my life ... make the most of where I am at right now. Perhaps you'll be encouraged by these words too:
This Life by Mercy Me
This is not my home ... this is not my space
This is not my style ... this is not my place
Can't get comfortable... can't get settled in
Simply dont belong ... can't get used to this
But I'm here right now ... I can hear you say
Make the most of Me ... this won't go to waste
If I'm out of my mind .... yeah it's all for Christ
If I'm making sense ...then get it right
Every moment is a chance to let your light break through
This life (oh oh oh oh)
This life was meant to shine
I don't have to stall ... I don't have to wait
Don't have to bide my time ... till I make my escape
Cuz heaven's in my heart ... I won't settle for less
I will lift your name ... by the life I live
Every moment is a chance to let your light break through
This life (oh oh oh oh)
This life was meant to shine
By the way, I hung some curtains this weekend. I'm feeling more settled already for I'm planning to do more than bide my time ... I'm planning to stay. It may only be for a short while longer or it could be for years and years to come, but let it be said that while I was here I chose to live, and I didn't just wait.
Hope brought an interesting response from me. As I began to hope, I began to dream again. And as I dreamed big dreams for my future, I began to feel as if I were waiting ... waiting on those dreams to become reality. It doesn't so much matter what the dreams are, for there are several dreams for my future that I hold dear to my heart. What does matter is that I put myself in a holding pattern while I was waiting and hoping for my future, instead of embracing what my life is right now.
I will be the first to admit that waiting can be a good thing. After all, when we wait for something that we really desire, it is all the more precious to us when it finally is ours because of the wait that we endured. But waiting can also cause us to become inactive participants in life. Such was the case with me.
This past Saturday morning I had a big ole self-pity party going on before I ever even crawled out of bed. I was fighting off a lot of negative emotions, one of which was a feeling of being unsettled in my life. I cannot fully describe all of the ways that I feel unsettled .... there is my job and the sporadic childcare that I've had since I moved last summer. But perhaps one of the biggest reason for the unsettled feeling is the lack of close friends in the area that I am living currently. This is odd to me, for as a former military spouse I moved frequently. I have friends from every military installation where my ex-husband was stationed. I never had a problem finding friends, and have many close friends from those places. I cherish those friends who live in Virginia, Michigan, Washington and Texas. Obviously, though, all of these close friends live a little too far away to call up for a spur of the moment lunch invitation.
I've lived on both coasts and quite a few states in between, and yet by far the move I made last summer from my hometown to my current home in Jena (a mere 30 miles apart) has been the hardest move I've ever made out of 16 moves in my adult life. It's been 15 months since I unpacked the boxes in my new home, and I still cannot seem to find my legs here. I have no doubt about the fact that God wanted me to move to Jena. It's very clear that I was called to come live in this place for this season of my life. Truly, there is so much that I enjoy about life here. I love my little house. I go to a wonderful church. My kids attend a great school. I think Jena is a sweet and safe town. And I have many wonderful acquaintances that I've grown to love ... yet I do not have a single close friendship in this place, and as a result, I feel unsettled and a little lonely.
So Saturday morning, I complained to God about the lack of friends and the loneliness and the unsettled feeling I have about living here. And do you know how He responded? He said:
"Paige, I do not think people who have yet to hang up curtains should complain about feeling unsettled."
Me: "What do curtains have to do with me feeling unsettled?"
God: "You've lived in your home well over a year now. You haven't hung up any curtains. Are you planning to stay? Generally, when people plan to stay, they hang up curtains."
Me: "Well ... I'm not planning to go."
God: "That's not what I asked. I asked if you were planning to stay."
Me: "Okay ... here's the deal. My job isn't here. Child care has been sporadic and undependable. And I don't have any friends here. I keep pushing on doors and pushing on doors and pushing on doors ... but none of them open. And as a result, I don't feel settled. Why should I hang up curtains? What does that have to do with anything anyway?"
God: "The truth is, Paige, that you don't know how much longer you will be here ... it could be 2 days, 2 weeks, 2 months, 2 years or 2 decades. It really doesn't matter. I asked you to come here and live. So live here ... make yourself at home, Paige. Hang a few curtains."
So, I lay there and pondered curtains and why I hadn't yet hung any. There were a few good reasons. (Well, reasons anyway. I suppose that it could be debated over whether or not they were good reasons.) On reason was that I had never hung curtains before and I wasn't really sure I knew how. I mean, I knew that it couldn't be that hard to hang up curtains, but what if I hung them wrong. What if they were crooked and people came over to my house and laughed at my curtains hanging over the windows because they weren't even? Besides, I didn't even own a drill, for Pete's sake! How could I hang up curtains without a drill? And finally, what if I went to the store, selected some curtains for my windows, came home and hung them up and then hated the way they looked ... why, it would be a lot of money down the drain! I don't have a lot of money. It is just easier to have bare windows than to risk failure.
Somehow though, I realized that this really wasn't about curtains. It was about me choosing to LIVE my life, instead of simply BIDING my time.
As a Christian, I know that this world is not my home. My final destination is heaven. I long for heaven and to be with my Saviour. But we can't just sit around waiting for God to take us home. In fact, Jesus warned us about that in the parable about the talents, which is found in Matthew 25. When Christ returns, He wants to find that we have been busy working for His kingdom ... not that we have been sitting around awaiting His return. So as much as I want to go to heaven and live in paradise, while I am on this earth I need to be about the Father's business.
Mercy Me has a new album titled The Generous Mr. Lovewell that I've been enjoying lately. The first song is called This Life, and the lyrics have been haunting me for the past couple of weeks, encouraging me to make the most of my life ... make the most of where I am at right now. Perhaps you'll be encouraged by these words too:
This Life by Mercy Me
This is not my home ... this is not my space
This is not my style ... this is not my place
Can't get comfortable... can't get settled in
Simply dont belong ... can't get used to this
But I'm here right now ... I can hear you say
Make the most of Me ... this won't go to waste
If I'm out of my mind .... yeah it's all for Christ
If I'm making sense ...then get it right
Every moment is a chance to let your light break through
This life (oh oh oh oh)
This life was meant to shine
I don't have to stall ... I don't have to wait
Don't have to bide my time ... till I make my escape
Cuz heaven's in my heart ... I won't settle for less
I will lift your name ... by the life I live
Every moment is a chance to let your light break through
This life (oh oh oh oh)
This life was meant to shine
By the way, I hung some curtains this weekend. I'm feeling more settled already for I'm planning to do more than bide my time ... I'm planning to stay. It may only be for a short while longer or it could be for years and years to come, but let it be said that while I was here I chose to live, and I didn't just wait.
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