Irrational Fears

Sometimes I lose confidence and start wondering how I can do anything -- even things we desire. How can I move out west? How can I leave my friends, my church, my familiar environment? How can I start a new life in a place I've never been?
We would like to have another baby some day, but I wonder how can I ever have a baby again? How can I go through labor? The fear creeps in and clouds my judgment -- making me feel hesitant.
Today at church our pastor spoke about how Jesus is the Prince of Peace. Great peace have those that love God's law. It is in God's law that we learn of His character, His power, and His promises.
Even right now I feel a little uneasiness in my stomach. How silly. At this moment nothing is even happening. I am in my bedroom, warm under my blankets. There is no new church or new house. My friends are here. I am completely comfortable. It is the future that I am afraid of now. And the future is so uncertain.
God says that I shouldn't worry about tomorrow because each day has enough trouble of its own. As I love God's law and meditate in it I learn that God cares for me, He has a plan, nothing can separate me from His love, He will never leave me, He will give me the strength I need when I am weak. The list could go on and on. Sometimes it's hard to change your feelings even when you know what is true. Peace can be hard work our pastor says. But if I keep fighting my fearful thoughts, it will be worth it.

Look, It's a Book

I seem to always have trouble with titles. This title idea is my husband's idea. Perhaps it is a little cheesy, but since I am at a loss, and his other ideas were "The Library Fairy" and "Books, Who Needs Them?", I decided it would work fine.
I love the library! I get so excited looking through the shelves of books -- wondering what information and stories they tell. It's like I'm on a treasure quest and the books are like the jewels. I must admit the children's section lures me the most. Adult books just have too many words and not enough pictures. Who can resist a page of bright photos or creative drawings? It's great to see real pictures from a person's life when reading through a biography. I learn so much from reading to my boys. I remember more about George Washington and the Revolutionary War from teaching grade school history than I do from any college history class. And tonight I found books on Paul Revere and King George to supplement our history lessons. The library is a great resource.
Living near Mt. Hood sparked the boys' interest in mountains, so we started talking about Mt. Everest and checked out some books that I am so eager to read. Already I've learned things I didn't know about the climbers of Mt. Everest. In Oregon we could also see Mt. St.Helens on the drive into town. I tried to squeeze a little admiration out of the boys and told them that I climbed that mountain. They weren't too impressed with my climb, but they did want to find a book about Mt. St.Helens too. We chose a book about volcanoes and Shiloh says he can't wait to read it.
I've learned about Super Hornets and hummers, Vincent Van Gogh and Annie Oakley. The TITANIC sinking has come alive as we read about the people and looked through many pictures. I've been mystified along with the audience as we read about The Great Houdini.
Then there are the stories. Returning from the library we made hot chocolate and curled up under blankets around the twinkling Christmas tree. What a special time just being together and reading Christmas stories.
I like the funny stories too -- like Grandpa's Lost Teeth and Duck for President.
We've spent hours as a family reading.
Books are a gift -- full of wonder, discovery, and adventure.

Mt.Hood Climbers

I have been following the news story of the three climbers on Mt. Hood. How could I not? For the past month I have lived with Mt.Hood in my backyard. One climber's body had been found the other two were missing. Search and rescue attempts began, but were limited because of avalanche danger. I stared up at the mountain's icy white cliffs and canyons and ridges. So beautiful and so deadly. One night I lay in my bed warm under blankets with a hot fire crackling in the wood stove, I kept thinking about how those two missing climbers were possibly fighting to survive in the falling snow. How could I be so warm and comfortable and they be so cold and lost. I prayed for them to be found. I prayed for them to be alive.
Days have gone by and still no sign of them. Search and rescue efforts have been halted. The sinking feeling that a person tries to push back, the truth that you try to ignore and claim is false, starts settling securely. They are gone. And to not even know how they died or where they are -- where is the closure.
While searching for more information on the missing climbers I came across a blog written by a family member of a climber that had died on Mt. Hood three years ago. The story had been so similar. Three climbers, one body found, two missing still, to this day. The blogger wrote of intense pain, probing, honest questions, and yet a faith in a God who is loving and Who's way is perfect. What troubles me though is in one of the comments written in response to the post, God was referred to as "characteristically silent" and prayer is "doing nothing, thinking you are helping someone."
This bothers me, not because I am offended that anyone would say that about God. (Although it was insensitive to the one who lost a brother.) But it bothers me because I know God knows where those climbers are. I know He see the pain of those waiting for any good news. And what is more, I know He is love. Those climbers were believers in Jesus the newspaper said, and I know God loves them -- they are His children. Why does He seem so silent?
I remember the Israelites who for years were oppressed by their cruel taskmasters in Egypt. Hundreds of years if I remember correctly. And they cried and groaned and God was silent.
But He says, "I have surely seen the oppression of My people who are in Egypt...I know their sorrows...I have remembered my covenant...I will rescue you...I will redeem you." And He did.
How can I comprehend the mind, the plans, and yes, the timing of One Who sees from beginning to end and beyond? So perhaps God is not silent? Perhaps it is just I who at times does not like the sound of His voice?
There are safe, Shari. They are rescued. They are in Heaven with me.
I can say that I am looking forward to sitting down with them and hearing the rest of the story when we are together with Jesus in Heaven.

Little Wyatt, Little Warrior

Sometimes we like attention, especially when we are hurting. I am inspired by the selflessness of my cousin Fawne. While we were at the funeral she still wanted to serve others, and if you talk to her now, she will probably tell you about how great her Father's love is for her -- How she wishes through Wyatt she could show at least one person a fraction of how deep God's love is for them. She would talk about how God has taught her so much about who He is and that He is amazing. I know she misses Wyatt. I know it is hard, because she has said that it is, and how could it not be? But she is not consumed by self-pity. She does not expect everyone to feel sorry for her or jump to serve her.
The following is a poem that my aunt Blossom wrote for Wyatt when he was born. It is interesting that as they chose the name Wyatt (which means "Warrior"), they never knew just how much of a warrior he would be his whole short life.

LITTLE WYATT, LITTLE WARRIOR

Little Wyatt, little warrior, little messenger from God
Oh the lessons God will teach us....about Himself...about life
You were fashioned and created by your Maker
For a far greater purpose than the average child
You are perfect in every way for the mission God intended

We embrace your coming with acceptance, love and joy

Little Wyatt, little warrior, little messenger from God
Oh the lessons God will teach us...about ourselves...about time
You are given as a gift...priceless, precious and totally fragile
We are honored to be guardians of your body and soul
In partnership with God....to leave a legacy of faith

We embrace your heritage....you belong to God.

Little Wyatt, little warrior....little messenger from God.
O the lessons God will teach us...about ourselves and one another
You come with many needs which we do not understand
Your cried for nourishment and comfort bring your parents
Whose cries for wisdom and encouragment....bring their God.

We embrace your needs....they bring us humility and grace.

Little Wyatt, little warrior....little messenger from God.
O the lessons you will teach us...about the battle...about prayer
You, Little Warrior, will be victor over the kingdom of darkness
And bring many to the kingdom of light....without a word
For in God's kingdom....the weak are stong.

We embrace your name....it reminds us to persevere.

Woman's Work

I wonder what is the woman's role in the family. Is she destined to be a wife and a mother? I was recently talking with someone whose daughter has a few different jobs in public relations. She takes care of the grandchildren and the housework during the day and then her daughter comes home in the evening and spends some time with her children. She told me that her daughter never really pictured herself being a full-time mom. Honestly, it does seem a little strange to me. Why have kids if you don't want to be with them? But I also think of my husband and I. He wants to open a computer store, and I think working in a camp ministry would be one of the best jobs. Computer stores bore me -- not him! He said it would be so great -- he would get to be the first to try out new software/hardware. But what I wonder is if because I am a wife and mother it doesn't matter what I desire or where I might be gifted because I will always be a wife and mother whatever my husband chooses for his career. I certainly wouldn't want him to be miserable doing what I wanted. Shouldn't God just lead us so clearly that where we are suppose to be will be somewhere that both of us want and are gifted for?

Happy Birthday Ian!

Today you are three years old. When I get home I am going to bake you a three layer chocolate cake. It will be so rich and moist. Maybe I will even heat it up. The chocolate frosting will pool around the cake at the edges of my plate. It will melt in my mouth -- warm and gooey and chocolaty. It will paralyze my immune system, but I don't care. It's really a lousy cake for a three year old. No candy sprinkles. No trucks or dogs or balls or dinosaurs. But I guess you won't care either, because you aren't even here. The cake is for me. Then I will look at your pictures. You don't smile in any of them. Come to think of it, neither do I. Then I will visit you. Daddy will come too. But you won't call our names. You won't climb into our lap or laugh at the silly things Dad does. He's really not that funny anyways, but your brothers think he is. We will look at the headstone marking your tiny grave. It doesn't sound like a birthday at all.
Ian Jonathan we love you. You are God's gift.

The Lord is Gracious

Today my sister-in-law had her baby. Today our son would have been 3 years old. I don't understand why God had her be born the same day as Ian. Of all the days she could have been born, what are the chances that it would be the exact same day. I miss our son. It feels like he is washed away like the sand by the seashore and forgotten even more than before. Who remembers a dead child in the midst of the joy of new birth. Yet it makes my emptiness seem even more pronounced. It makes me feel even more barren. I am not barren. I have four boys. But it still feels like something is missing. Recently my husband was sitting at the dinner table looking around at our family. He was sure someone wasn't there and started calling one of the boys. We were all at the table, but my husband was right -- someone wasn't there. But we can't call him. He won't come.
The family congratulates them. Not one of them mentions our loss. Rejoice with those that rejoice, but my heart just wants to weep.
I am reminded of a story my aunt told. She and my uncle were driving home from their ultrasound. They were having a girl. My aunt could tell that my uncle was a little disappointed. This was their third girl and he was hoping for a boy. But he told her, "God's purposes could not have been accomplished with a boy." God is good and had decided what He knew was best for them and His plan. Can God do anything? Yes, He can do all His holy will. Their next child was a boy, but he died at about 5 months. Does God make sense? No, not really. But somehow He accomplishes His holy, perfect will. Somehow He is still good.

I am not skilled to understand
What God hath willed, what God hath planned;
I only know at His right hand
Stands One who is my Savior.
---Aaron Shust