Super Power, Activate!

I've been thinking a lot about forgiveness.
Praying. Reading. Wrote a poem.
Heavy thinking kind of stuff.

I thought letting go of the vengeful hoo haw junking
up my being was all I had to do.

Defiantly eating mass amounts of birthday cake laced
ice cream wasn't doing anyone any good, nor would
the vindictive plots creeping around in my brain.

I told myself I forgave and avoided the two for five
special in the grocer's dairy freezer.

But the uglies didn't go away.

Anger, disappointment and fear continued to linger. With
those beat the question, "Did I really forgive or am
I just a hypocrite?"

I had to look deeper and accept that emotions are feelings I
can't pretend not to have. More importantly, they come with
the challenge to be used responsibly.

Yes, I get angry. But hey, sometimes anger is a great motivator
for change.

Disappointed? Pshh. Often. Sure, I cry. I also learn.

And I need fear! It reminds me not to go too close to the edge.

There are fun emotions too, so I'll have lots to work with.

Forgiveness, however, is not an emotion. It's a super power.
And woah! We all have it. We just have to use it.

The ability to forgive let's you see through the uglies to the peace on
the other side. It's the incredible strength that can lift tons of vengeful hoo
haw out of prayer's way. It's the shield that doesn't wait for the battle to
be over to protect.

So, step off, Satan. This girl has been forgiven. I have God's grace,
and I'm not afraid to use it.

Forgive

Teach me to forgive,
As I have been forgiven,
Humbled in the armor,
Of peace no longer hidden.

Release me now of yesterday,
And hold me up today,
Ready for tomorrow,
Strengthened by Your grace.

Amen

How to Get a Redhead to Stop Obsessing

Suggestions welcome :)



____________________

But

I wanted to write something beautiful the other day.
I wanted to inspire, encourage.

Instead, I attended a pity party. See, it was our twenty fifth
wedding anniversary. I had this grand idea of celebrating the
best way I know how. Apparently, however, I'm not as wise
as I pretend to be.


For years we've discussed adoption, sharing our family with
another child in need of love. I knew I loved this child
already. I dreamed of giving him a home. I think we all did.

Preparing to celebrate twenty five years of marriage brought
this longing to share our family closer to reality. Our three
eldest children are grown up and out on their own. Our
youngest, Thomas, is our only child at home now and the
time seemed perfect.

With lots of prayer, research, phone calls, and paperwork,
the journey began. We went to the orientation for classes a few
weeks ago. We were to start on May 7th, our anniversary.

I loved the idea of celebrating our anniversary with going to our
first class. Family is the best way I know to do anything.

-but-

Turns out I do not qualify to be a mother to an adopted child.

Not insufficient education. Not lack of experience. Not finances.
No excuse at all, just unqualified me.

The agency deemed me unfit to be a mother based on a psychiatric
diagnosis with which I was labeled before Thomas was even born.
Unfit. Seems I've heard that word before. Oh wait, that was in my
nightmares.

So, yeah. Sometimes insecurities get validated.

I needed another "but." Funny enough, there usually is at least one.
When I got done crying and beating myself up, I found the buts I
needed.

One of my favorites is my family. There's great strength in embracing
the mission I'm already on. Too often my efforts and hopes to do
more, or the obstacles and failures I encounter, make me lose sight
of the good and the needs that are right in front of me.

And you know what? I am not an unfit mother. I'm not perfect, of
course. But I am secure in knowing this is the mission I'm meant to
be on. Sure, I will keep trying to do more. Some things may work
out, some may not. But right now I'm thankful to be reminded that
not being perfect does not mean not being anything.

We have a lot to celebrate.

After twenty five years of marriage I can wholeheartedly say I love
and am thankful for my husband and the family that came with our
union.

No, it hasn't been perfect. But...

Because He Said So

I didn't see this coming.

I grew up Catholic. I was baptised when I was a baby.
My mom saw to that. She's so wonderful. She taught us
about Jesus, to pray, to believe in God's awesome
power. She sets a great example with her forgiving heart and
her genuine loving nature. My mom will always be my first
and dearest teacher.

I'm so thankful to have gotten to grow up knowing about Jesus.
And I value the importance of bringing together that knowledge
with a sincere acceptance of Him as Savior.

Though I've been taught in great ways and learned great things, I
still had to be the one to make the great choice to follow Jesus. And
I did.

I really did.

But why did I need to get baptised again? I already did that, right? Not
only did I, but I renewed it many times when the priest prayed over
us and sprinkled water as we renewed our vows.

Well, it started with a prayer.

I don't remember all the words, honestly. But when our worship leader,
Bryce, prayed for changed hearts I felt that familiar longing for a change
in my own.

Pastor Larry's message guided me to what I needed to do to
help that change along, and helped me understand why. He said we get
baptised because Jesus said so. Those simple words left no room for my
lame excuses. And there was more. He set an example by doing it, and we
demonstrate our faith by doing it too. Hmmm.

Then I heard the testimony of yet another someone I admire,
Michelle Jennings. The truth touched my heart.

I had been following Jesus on my own terms. I let my insecurities about
being in public and cold water and bathing suits cloud my reasoning. I had been
praying for a closer relationship with God, to set an example for my children,
and direction to serve. But I was trying to follow without taking all the steps.
 
Despite my shaking hands and quivering voice, I made another choice.
I whispered to Ed I wanted to be baptised with the others after church. I was
afraid he'd think I was silly. Instead he ran across the street to buy me shorts.
How cool is he?

So I stood in the water and looked out at Thomas. Two years ago he made this
same decision to be baptised. Still, I kind of hoped this would be a beautiful moment
of inspiration for him. He just gave me a silly look as if to say, "Ummm, it's about time."

Please Know

Please know I notice,
He's learning so much.
Minds on a journey,
With the help of your touch.

Please know I see,
You really do care,
A wonderful comfort,
When I can't be there.

Please know I respect,
The measures you take,
To hold on to order,
And keep our kids safe.

Please know I am thankful,
In this world we live in,
To witness some goodness,
And hope for our children.

And no matter what's said,
About prayer in our schools,
Please know that I'm out here,
Praying for you.

When Can I Let This Mission Stop Beating the Snot Out of Me?

There's this thing I need to do. When I took it on, I claimed it as an important purpose in my life.

I started it. I had good intentions, really. Then something went wrong. The mission started failing.

I began to question if it was time to let go of my purpose.

But I did start it.

I stepped back and asked myself, "why did I start this?"

The surface reasons I rattled off were nice. To be honest, though, what I listed as reasons were mostly the benefits I expected to come. Some reasons, I had to admit, were more like excuses.

The pains and struggles of this journey nudged me toward the edge of giving up. I wanted to stop. But the idea of stopping hurt even more. I was tired, hurting, confused.

I had let the purpose become my enemy. But that wasn't right.

Something in me wouldn't let me let go. Turns out, that something is my purpose. The true purpose of starting this mission was what had been under attack all along. The real enemy was armed with insecurities and doubts, setbacks and disappointments, fears and heartaches.

Yes, I made mistakes. But in spite of my failures and wanderings, the purpose hasn't left.

So now what?

Accept.

That one little word is a powerful weapon. One that has to be handled carefully.

Accept the challenge and act.
Accept the lessons and adjust.
Accept that the power over obstacles is sometimes a direction around.
Accept the purpose as a mission to never let go.

There's this thing I need to do.