or at least my memory!!
Yesterday, I was sitting on the couch listening to a friend play the piano and sing. She has a beautiful voice and I was just relaxing and enjoying the rare moments...
The kids were outside playing so other then the piano and my friends voice the house was quiet.
While I was sitting I must have thought of at least 3 different blog topics to write about, I didn't write them down anywhere because, of course, I was going to remember them!
Do you think I can remember them now? Any of them? NO!! I have faded ideas (kind of like memories of a dream you think you had) of what I "think" might have been a topic or 2, but I'm not sure.
Seriously, this is sad, so very sad, but unfortunately not uncommon for me. Sigh....
In the days to come if I actually remember 1 or all of the topics I'll be sure to write my idea down.
On a happier note. My strawberry freezer jam was a success!!! We now have 24 jars of jam in our freezer! I'm hoping to ration them so they last into the winter, but part of me is afraid they won't last that long.
I used the recipe I posted, and while it's a tad putzy (mainly mashing the strawberries) it was very easy. It was my very first time making jam of any kind so if I can do it anyone can! :)
I took pictures that once I get off of the camera hope to post.
Thanks for reading my ramblings if you made it this far....sorry that this isn't more interesting. :)
Monday, June 14, 2010
Friday, June 11, 2010
Strawberry Freezer Jam
I'm posting this here because in order to print out the recipe I'd have to print 6 pages and a bunch of other stuff, so I thought I'd post it here.
Hoping to make some this weekend or next week, provided I go strawberry picking today. :)
Strawberry Freezer Jam
Makes Five - 8 oz. Jars
4 cups mashed strawberries
1 1/2 cups sugar
1 packet freezer jam pectin
1. In a large bowl, crush st until only small pieces remain and mixture is quite liquid. This may take a few minutes.
2. In a small bowl, mix Pectin and sugar together until incorporated. Add to mashed strawberries. Stir for 3 minutes.
3. Ladle into clean jam jars, leaving 1/2″ space at the top. Cap and let sit for 30 minutes. Store in your freezer until ready to use, or transfer to fridge and eat!
Jam keeps several weeks in the fridge or up to one year in the freezer.
Hoping I get a chance to try this!! :)
Monday, May 31, 2010
Memorial Day
"Freedom is never more than one generation away from extinction. We didn't pass it to our children in the bloodstream. It must be fought for, protected, and handed on for them to do the same, or one day we will spend our sunset years telling our children and our children's children what it was once like in the United States where men were free." ~Ronald Reagan
I saw this quote on one of my friend's fb page this past week. The more I thought about it, the more I realized it to be true. In the day that we live in we seem to be rapidly losing more and more of the freedoms our Grandparents, great-grandparents, great-great grandparents fought, sacrificed and died for. Some of these freedoms have been, unfortunatly, given up without a fight, others are in a sense being taken from us. There is an ache in my heart as I think of what our country will be like when my young children are adults. Will they enjoy the same freedoms I did as a child? My children live in a much different world than I did and I'm not that old. What kind of America will my grand-children grow-up in?
I know the road we are on now as a country did not happen overnight, it's been a gradual "decline" if you want to call it that. Starting with giving-up "little" freedoms and now it seems to be escalating at an alarming rate!
I know the world we are living in is growing darker, and that make me so much more thankful to have Jesus to cling to. I don't know what tomorrow holds, but I do know Who holds my tomorrow!!
I kind of got off on a tangent, so to come back to what I really wanted to post... :)
THANK YOU!!! Thank you to the men and women, past and present, who have fought, died, sacrificed, served and still are serving our country!! Thank you....those words don't seem to be enough!!!
I have grandparents who served in World War II. A dear friend who's husband has been deployed 3 times since the start of the Iraq War, and may other friends who have served or still are serving in our country's armed forces!
Thank you!!! Today I am remembering you and the sacrifices you have made, you are not forgotten today!!
Sunday, May 9, 2010
Happy Mother's Day
I realize I've neglected my blog once again. However, being a mom of 4 keeps me very busy without the kids being sick or without any added craziness, which seems to be the story of my life lately. :)
Anyway, this being Mother's Day I wanted to post and email a friend sent me about 2 years ago. It was very timely, because I was going through some struggles being a mom, and this just brought perspective and encouragement to my heart!
I think being a mom is probably one of THE hardest jobs anyone could ever have, but it is also one of the most amazing and rewarding jobs!
So with these short reflections which I hope made some sense (long busy weekend = me very tired right now) I'll leave you with the email I received. We are all in different places as mom's because our children are at different ages and places themselves, but the general message of this email is what really impacted me!
Happy Mother's Day!!
I'm Invisible
It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the
lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while
I'm on the phone and ask to be taken to the store.
Inside I'm thinking, 'Can't you see I'm on the
phone?' Obviously not; no one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking,
or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner,
because no one can see me at all. I'm invisible. The invisible Mom.
Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more:
Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this?
Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a
human being. I'm a clock to ask, 'What time is it?'
I'm a satellite guide to answer, 'What number is the
Disney Channel?' I'm a car to order, 'Right around 5:30 , please.'
I was certain that these were the hands that once
held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that
graduated summa cum laude - but now they had
disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She's
going, she's going, she's gone!
One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of
a friend from England . Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous
trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was
sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It
was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself as I looked down at my
out-of-style dress; it was the only thing I could
find that was clean. My unwashed hair was pulled up in a hair clip and
I was afraid I could actually smell peanut butter in it. I was feeling
pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped
package, and said, 'I brought you this.' It was a book on the great
cathedrals of Europe . I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I
read her inscription: 'To Charlotte , with admiration for the
greatness of what you are building when no one sees.'
In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the
book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing
truths, after which I could pattern my work:
No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record
of their names.
These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished.
They made great sacrifices and expected no credit.
The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.
A legendary story in the book told of a rich man
who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a
workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and
asked the man, 'Why are you spending so much time carving that bird
into a beam that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it.'
And the workman replied, 'Because God sees.'
I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall
into place. It was almost as if I heard God whispering
to me, 'I see you, Charlotte. I see the sacrifices you make every day,
even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you've done, no
sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, is too small for me to
notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't
see right now what it will become.'
At times, my invisibility feels like an
affliction . But it is not a disease that is erasing my life. It is the
cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to
my strong, stubborn pride. I keep the right perspective when I see
myself as a great builder. As one of the people
who show up at a job that they will never see
finished, to work on something that their name will never be on. The
writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be
built in our lifetime , because there are so few people willing to
sacrifice to that degree.
When I really think about it, I don't want my son
to tell the friend he's bringing home from college for
Thanksgiving, 'My mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade
pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all
the linens for the table.' That would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself.
I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there
is anything more to say to his friend, to add, 'You're gonna love it
there.'
As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We
cannot be seen if we're doing it right. And one day, it is very
possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at
the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of
invisible women.
Great Job, MOM!
Share this with all the Invisible Moms you know
.... I just did.
Anyway, this being Mother's Day I wanted to post and email a friend sent me about 2 years ago. It was very timely, because I was going through some struggles being a mom, and this just brought perspective and encouragement to my heart!
I think being a mom is probably one of THE hardest jobs anyone could ever have, but it is also one of the most amazing and rewarding jobs!
So with these short reflections which I hope made some sense (long busy weekend = me very tired right now) I'll leave you with the email I received. We are all in different places as mom's because our children are at different ages and places themselves, but the general message of this email is what really impacted me!
Happy Mother's Day!!
I'm Invisible
It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the
lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while
I'm on the phone and ask to be taken to the store.
Inside I'm thinking, 'Can't you see I'm on the
phone?' Obviously not; no one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking,
or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner,
because no one can see me at all. I'm invisible. The invisible Mom.
Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more:
Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this?
Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a
human being. I'm a clock to ask, 'What time is it?'
I'm a satellite guide to answer, 'What number is the
Disney Channel?' I'm a car to order, 'Right around 5:30 , please.'
I was certain that these were the hands that once
held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that
graduated summa cum laude - but now they had
disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She's
going, she's going, she's gone!
One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of
a friend from England . Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous
trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was
sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It
was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself as I looked down at my
out-of-style dress; it was the only thing I could
find that was clean. My unwashed hair was pulled up in a hair clip and
I was afraid I could actually smell peanut butter in it. I was feeling
pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped
package, and said, 'I brought you this.' It was a book on the great
cathedrals of Europe . I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I
read her inscription: 'To Charlotte , with admiration for the
greatness of what you are building when no one sees.'
In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the
book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing
truths, after which I could pattern my work:
No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record
of their names.
These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished.
They made great sacrifices and expected no credit.
The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.
A legendary story in the book told of a rich man
who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a
workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and
asked the man, 'Why are you spending so much time carving that bird
into a beam that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it.'
And the workman replied, 'Because God sees.'
I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall
into place. It was almost as if I heard God whispering
to me, 'I see you, Charlotte. I see the sacrifices you make every day,
even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you've done, no
sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, is too small for me to
notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't
see right now what it will become.'
At times, my invisibility feels like an
affliction . But it is not a disease that is erasing my life. It is the
cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to
my strong, stubborn pride. I keep the right perspective when I see
myself as a great builder. As one of the people
who show up at a job that they will never see
finished, to work on something that their name will never be on. The
writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be
built in our lifetime , because there are so few people willing to
sacrifice to that degree.
When I really think about it, I don't want my son
to tell the friend he's bringing home from college for
Thanksgiving, 'My mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade
pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all
the linens for the table.' That would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself.
I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there
is anything more to say to his friend, to add, 'You're gonna love it
there.'
As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We
cannot be seen if we're doing it right. And one day, it is very
possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at
the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of
invisible women.
Great Job, MOM!
Share this with all the Invisible Moms you know
.... I just did.
Friday, April 2, 2010
Good Friday
I had several ideas of what I wanted to write today. Reflecting on the death and resurrection of Jesus, so many thoughts come to mind. I decided though that to keep all that I was thinking in order and get it to make sense once I typed it out might not work so well. So I'm going to post part of a story from the Bible story book we read to the kids before bed.
The Sun Stops Shining
Taken from Matthew 27, Mark 15, Luke 23 and John 19
" 'So you're a King, are you?' the Roman soldiers jeered. 'Then you'll need a crown and a robe.' They gave Jesus a crown made out of thorns. And put a purple robe on Him. And pretended to bow down to Him. 'Your Majesty!' they said. Then they whipped Him. And spat on Him. They didn't understand that this was the Prince of Life, the King of heaven and earth, who had come to rescue them.
The soldiers made Him a sign-'Our King' and nailed it to a wooden cross. They walked up a hill outside the city. Jesus carried the cross on His back. Jesus had never done anything wrong. But they were going to kill Him the way criminals were killed.
They nailed Jesus to the cross.
'Father, forgive them,' Jesus gasped. 'They don't understand what they're doing.'
'You say you've come to rescue us!' people shouted. 'But You can't even rescue yourself!'
But they were wrong. Jesus could have rescued Himself. A legion of angels would have flown to His side-if He'd called.
'If you were really the Son of God, you could just climb down off that cross!' they said.
And of course they were right. Jesus could have just climbed down. Actually, He could have just said a word and made it all stop......
But Jesus stayed.
You see, they didn't understand. It wasn't the nails that kept Jesus there. It was love.
'Papa?' Jesus cried, frantically searching the sky. 'Papa?' 'Where are You? Don't leave Me!' And for the first time-and the last- when He spoke, nothing happened. Just a horrible, endless silence. God didn't answer. He turned away from His Boy.
Tears rolled down Jesus' face. The face of the One who would wipe away every tear from every eye.
Even though it was midday, a dreadful darkness covered the face of the world. The sun could not shine. The earth trembled and quaked. The great mountains shook. Rocks split in two. Until it seemed that the whole world would break. That creation itself would tear apart.
The full force of the storm of God's fierce anger at sin was coming down. On his own Son. Instead of his people. It was the only way God could destroy sin, and not destroy his children whose hearts were filled with sin.
Then Jesus shouted out in a loud voice, 'It is finished!'
And it was. He had done it. Jesus had rescued the whole world.
'Father!' Jesus cried. 'I give you my life.' And with a great sigh he let himself die."
----Taken from "The Jesus Storybook Bible".
"For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life. For God sent not his Son into the world to condemn the world; but that the world through Him might be saved." John 3:16-17
"Jesus saith unto him, 'I am the way, the truth and the life: no man comes to the Father, but by me.'" John 14:6
"Neither is there salvation in any other: for there is none other name (the name of Jesus) under heaven given among men, whereby me must be saved." Acts 4:12
Friday, March 26, 2010
Need to Document this somewhere....
This post is more so for my own memory's sake. I need to get better at this since, I think, with some of the situations I find myself in with my boys, after my blood pressure has returned to normal and my shot nerves seem to correct themselves, I do find these humorous... I think I have to for my own sanity's sake.
These are 3 stories about my youngest son, J3, from this week and while the 1st 2 are cute, humorous stories, the last, well, lets just say my nerves are still recovering...
1. One thing I admire about children is their ability to be entertained and/or amused by the simplest of things. Case in point. I'm sitting in the Family Room and J3 comes walking through, talking to a lady bug. Yes, he found a lady bug (actually one of those orange Japanese beetles) and was talking to it. Telling it all kinds of things while gently holding it in his hands. At one point he said, "This ladybug will go to sleep everyday." I'm not sure how long the relationship lasted but haven't heard a thing about it since that day. :)
2. This morning I'm in the kitchen and J3 is in the bathroom off the kitchen. I hear him flush the toilet, nothing out of the ordinary, until I hear something else. I hear J3 talking, talking to "anybody" that might be in the toilet. I hear, "Hello!" "Anybody in there?" "Anybody home?" "Heeelllloooo?" this went on for just a minute. It did however start my day out with a smile! :)
3. So I have the boys hop in the shower (for now it's easier to have them all shower at once) since J2 had a Dr. appt. Well, they start getting out and J3 is crying and crying. I run in there (totally calm) and ask (of course very nice) what's going on. To which J2 pipes up and says J3 stuck a marble in his butt. Seriously??!!
Ok, now what? I have him climb out of the shower and sit on the toilet hoping it'll fall out and that will be the end of it. Nothing comes out. Super! Ok, well, we're headed to the Dr. anyway, we'll just mention it then. J3 goes on as if nothing ever happened and we continue getting ready. I did ask him a few times why he put a marble in his butt, to which I got answers along the lines of, "because it's stuck in there", Duh, what was I thinking :)
We head to the Dr. spend at least 30min. in the waiting room. The kids have off of school today so I'm trying to keep the 4 of them from destroying the waiting room, while J3 continues to act totally fine. We see the nurse what we came for is finished up and we leave. I call my husband on the way home and he asks what the Dr. said about the marble. Shoot!
Claiming pregnancy brain, J3 acting fine and trying to keep the peace in the waiting room as my excuse I explain that I totally forgot to mention the marble (there went my 'Mother of the Year' award).
Head to McDonald's for lunch, J2's reward for doing a good job at the Dr. Then head home.
Call the Dr. office to let them know what happened and wondering what I should do. The receptionist got a good laugh out of my predicament and told me a nurse would call back when she was finished with an emergency patient. Ok good.
Nurse calls back, briefly tells me that because we're dealing with his rectum, basically they won't do anything and that I need to go to the ER right away! Lovely!!!
Now I must explain (so you get a taste of what I felt like when she said to head to the ER). J3 is our child who can get a scrape or cut and while cleaning it up he sounds like we are literally killing him!!! And I'm not exaggerating at all! He will scream if we try and put a band-aid on him. So when the nurse said take him to the ER right away, whatever was left of my nerves at that point....well, you get my point.
I let my husband know via chat what's going on and he isn't happy because of the huge bill we're going to get (I was too) and he was frustrated that the Dr. office was so willing to do nothing. So I call the ER to get an idea of what to expect because if they're just doing an x-ray wouldn't it be cheaper to have it done at the clinic?
After delaying our departure for 10 min. or so the phone rings again. This time it's J3's Dr. she says DO NOT take him to the ER, this is not an emergency (insert Hallelujah chorus)!! She says J3 should have no problem passing it, if I want to I can bring him in and she'll take a "look" in there, that it may be a bit traumatic but if I want the peace of mind she'll be willing to do it. I mention his "band-aid" phobia and we decide to wait it out and that if he starts complaining or acting weird (which after this week I'm not sure what classifies as "weird" anymore) to bring him on in. And also mentions she'll be talking to her nurse. :) (I love our Dr.)
I'm thanking the Lord I didn't have to take him in! I'm just hoping the shaking stops soon and my nerves regain what ever they need to regain before the next situation happens, which, in our home could be in the next 5 minutes......
These are 3 stories about my youngest son, J3, from this week and while the 1st 2 are cute, humorous stories, the last, well, lets just say my nerves are still recovering...
1. One thing I admire about children is their ability to be entertained and/or amused by the simplest of things. Case in point. I'm sitting in the Family Room and J3 comes walking through, talking to a lady bug. Yes, he found a lady bug (actually one of those orange Japanese beetles) and was talking to it. Telling it all kinds of things while gently holding it in his hands. At one point he said, "This ladybug will go to sleep everyday." I'm not sure how long the relationship lasted but haven't heard a thing about it since that day. :)
2. This morning I'm in the kitchen and J3 is in the bathroom off the kitchen. I hear him flush the toilet, nothing out of the ordinary, until I hear something else. I hear J3 talking, talking to "anybody" that might be in the toilet. I hear, "Hello!" "Anybody in there?" "Anybody home?" "Heeelllloooo?" this went on for just a minute. It did however start my day out with a smile! :)
3. So I have the boys hop in the shower (for now it's easier to have them all shower at once) since J2 had a Dr. appt. Well, they start getting out and J3 is crying and crying. I run in there (totally calm) and ask (of course very nice) what's going on. To which J2 pipes up and says J3 stuck a marble in his butt. Seriously??!!
Ok, now what? I have him climb out of the shower and sit on the toilet hoping it'll fall out and that will be the end of it. Nothing comes out. Super! Ok, well, we're headed to the Dr. anyway, we'll just mention it then. J3 goes on as if nothing ever happened and we continue getting ready. I did ask him a few times why he put a marble in his butt, to which I got answers along the lines of, "because it's stuck in there", Duh, what was I thinking :)
We head to the Dr. spend at least 30min. in the waiting room. The kids have off of school today so I'm trying to keep the 4 of them from destroying the waiting room, while J3 continues to act totally fine. We see the nurse what we came for is finished up and we leave. I call my husband on the way home and he asks what the Dr. said about the marble. Shoot!
Claiming pregnancy brain, J3 acting fine and trying to keep the peace in the waiting room as my excuse I explain that I totally forgot to mention the marble (there went my 'Mother of the Year' award).
Head to McDonald's for lunch, J2's reward for doing a good job at the Dr. Then head home.
Call the Dr. office to let them know what happened and wondering what I should do. The receptionist got a good laugh out of my predicament and told me a nurse would call back when she was finished with an emergency patient. Ok good.
Nurse calls back, briefly tells me that because we're dealing with his rectum, basically they won't do anything and that I need to go to the ER right away! Lovely!!!
Now I must explain (so you get a taste of what I felt like when she said to head to the ER). J3 is our child who can get a scrape or cut and while cleaning it up he sounds like we are literally killing him!!! And I'm not exaggerating at all! He will scream if we try and put a band-aid on him. So when the nurse said take him to the ER right away, whatever was left of my nerves at that point....well, you get my point.
I let my husband know via chat what's going on and he isn't happy because of the huge bill we're going to get (I was too) and he was frustrated that the Dr. office was so willing to do nothing. So I call the ER to get an idea of what to expect because if they're just doing an x-ray wouldn't it be cheaper to have it done at the clinic?
After delaying our departure for 10 min. or so the phone rings again. This time it's J3's Dr. she says DO NOT take him to the ER, this is not an emergency (insert Hallelujah chorus)!! She says J3 should have no problem passing it, if I want to I can bring him in and she'll take a "look" in there, that it may be a bit traumatic but if I want the peace of mind she'll be willing to do it. I mention his "band-aid" phobia and we decide to wait it out and that if he starts complaining or acting weird (which after this week I'm not sure what classifies as "weird" anymore) to bring him on in. And also mentions she'll be talking to her nurse. :) (I love our Dr.)
I'm thanking the Lord I didn't have to take him in! I'm just hoping the shaking stops soon and my nerves regain what ever they need to regain before the next situation happens, which, in our home could be in the next 5 minutes......
Monday, March 22, 2010
Broken but Held
I've neglected my blog for too long. I've been meaning to write recently but just haven't had the time. This post isn't exactly how I'd planned my "come back" but here it is....
Yesterday at church we found out some dear friends of ours are going through their 2nd miscarriage. I couldn't stop the tears from flowing when I heard and as we prayed for them. I feel so broken.
I don't fully understand their pain because I've never had a miscarriage, but there's just a brokenness in my heart for them. Maybe in part because I'm pregnant and am having no problems.
Maybe because I know they've been praying for 6 years to add another child to their family and feeling that excitement and that hope for them....and now it's gone...replaced by sadness.
Maybe it's because I want to take on the pain and grief they're experience and bear it for them.
Maybe it's because I want to say some "magical" words to make them feel better, but in my heart know there are none.
Maybe it's because in the physical I really can do very little for them, and maybe knowing that makes the brokenness more real to me?
Maybe it's because I don't understand, and want to, but that may not be for me to ever understand.
And maybe this is one of those times when I don't understand why, but, I'm choosing to trust the Lord and His wisdom and knowledge of the situation.....even when a part of me doesn't want to....
Seeing again that our journey on this earth will not always be easy or fun or pleasant or rosy. In fact sometimes it's just plain heartbreaking and hard!
And seeing again that it's not always easy to trust the Lord and His ways...but knowing in my heart that His ways our best even if at times they bring sorrow and pain....
And strangely enough, it's in those times... in those valleys...that I seem to feel His presence more to know Him more deeply...it's in that place of brokenness that He's able to move more freely and to heal more deeply...
Why?
Maybe it's because I know I'm "Held" and that our dear friends are "Held" today too.
"The Lord is near to them that are of a broken heart; and saves such that have a contrite spirit." Psalm 34:18
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i-hJ87ApWtw&feature=related
Yesterday at church we found out some dear friends of ours are going through their 2nd miscarriage. I couldn't stop the tears from flowing when I heard and as we prayed for them. I feel so broken.
I don't fully understand their pain because I've never had a miscarriage, but there's just a brokenness in my heart for them. Maybe in part because I'm pregnant and am having no problems.
Maybe because I know they've been praying for 6 years to add another child to their family and feeling that excitement and that hope for them....and now it's gone...replaced by sadness.
Maybe it's because I want to take on the pain and grief they're experience and bear it for them.
Maybe it's because I want to say some "magical" words to make them feel better, but in my heart know there are none.
Maybe it's because in the physical I really can do very little for them, and maybe knowing that makes the brokenness more real to me?
Maybe it's because I don't understand, and want to, but that may not be for me to ever understand.
And maybe this is one of those times when I don't understand why, but, I'm choosing to trust the Lord and His wisdom and knowledge of the situation.....even when a part of me doesn't want to....
Seeing again that our journey on this earth will not always be easy or fun or pleasant or rosy. In fact sometimes it's just plain heartbreaking and hard!
And seeing again that it's not always easy to trust the Lord and His ways...but knowing in my heart that His ways our best even if at times they bring sorrow and pain....
And strangely enough, it's in those times... in those valleys...that I seem to feel His presence more to know Him more deeply...it's in that place of brokenness that He's able to move more freely and to heal more deeply...
Why?
Maybe it's because I know I'm "Held" and that our dear friends are "Held" today too.
"The Lord is near to them that are of a broken heart; and saves such that have a contrite spirit." Psalm 34:18
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i-hJ87ApWtw&feature=related
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