April 29, 2015 - Over a salad plate

It’s the question that plagues us all, those of us who are Christ-followers, when we so very often find ourselves tangled in the web of deciphering God’s will: “Which way would he have us go?” This question comes up for me time and time again!  And because I am a “pleaser”, so very much wanting to be what He wants me to be, I often find myself paralyzed by this question. I have no struggle with knowing and embracing that His will is ALWAYS better than my own (I’m blessed in that attribute) but this is likely the root cause of my constant pursuit of deciphering how to remain on the path he chose for me (and note that my knowing this truth, doesn’t mean I am always successful in choosing Him over me). I am fully cognizant of my ability to mess stuff up beyond recognition and my fear of that is a constant motivator. So I take very seriously trying to choose what God would have me do, maybe even selfishly, to ensure my joy. And because he has yet to audibly speak to me, I’m left to figure it all out as go.  I need that burning bush. I crave that shout out from the mountain top.  And where is my Gabriel messenger? Does he not know I would follow his words because I so fully know his way results in so much more joy than my own selfish-chosen path through this life? He has proven that time and time again to me. I could be an ideal candidate to receive that stone tablet, as I truly don’t envision a lot of kicking and screaming on my end to abide by his mapped out plan. But what happens when his plan is not obvious to me? The turmoil of the deciphering is exhausting.

I’m holding the vacuum hose up to the ceiling while standing on tiptoes and teetering in arm-exhaustion trying to keep it perched “just so” in the seam of the freshly spackled ceiling as Ron is up on the ladder with sandpaper in constant movement. And at that moment I’m in awe of what we are doing. It’s  9:45 at night, exhausted, and we still have several more tasks to complete before the following morning. Here we are doing something that just 2 months before seemed unfathomable. Our forever home, not our dream home, but our home that we chose purposely to take us into the frailty of geriatrics, is about to be sold. And as we repair and paint the last ceiling divot, I stand there mesmerized at what was about to unfold. A quick reminder of “never say never” and the uncertainty of the “knowns” of life. In recent weeks God, on numerous occasions, has prompted our heart to be open to transition. This willingness to give up our comfort zone in a trade out for the yet to be determined was knocking at our door. We felt this very strong pull to sell our home and move instead into something…different…with no place to go, a much smaller budget, and against the stream of this American Dream. On paper it seems bizarre and in contrast to everything we understood for ourselves in days of past, but in our hearts there was this understanding of some not-yet-defined purpose and intent. Many were calling us crazy, and some were watching our every step in anticipation of how this would fall out. Even we couldn’t answer the questions of those around us. We simply knew we were being prompted to go…to someplace to be determined. An in that there was this indescribable peace. This understanding that should He ask you to go, you pick up your mat and you go. And what would lie in your tomorrow, no matter how different, or less, or confusing it may seem, it would somehow result in so much more. Now let me stop here and say that this came over the course of many weeks for me. Ron somehow found himself on that bandwagon very early, but I did a little hokey pokey dance in my commitment level. One foot in, next day the same foot would be right back out, then the arms following in the same in and out jig. But as I prayed and prayed and prayed, and revisited the moments of past of God’s faithfulness in my life, I found myself leaving my foot, my arm, in the circle for longer periods of time until one day, almost without awareness of what had happened, I found myself “all in”. Next thing I knew, I was standing in my closet, on my tip toes, holding the vacuum hose at the ceiling in the closet where I had just recently discovered the true condition of my heart when trying to part with just 1 of 13 sweaters. In that same closet I found peace in the understanding that my goals would not always align with His and that His would trump mine every single time. Those of you that truly know me and have seen my failures and accomplishments in this life know this is a huge thing for this infiniti-driving, silver-spoon carrying, women of privileged standards. Only God could have transitioned my self-serving vain heart to seek him over my desire to have the comforts I have so purposely collected. Only God could have provided me a peace in the elements of this wide open slate of selling our “forever house” where we didn’t even have the very first inkling of how and what? And in my exhaustion while holding a vacuum hose, while my husband sanded away at the excess spackle, I felt in tune. 

The next morning, while I sat having lunch with a group of mentors, my husband sat in the middle of our bedroom in great prayer for guidance and wisdom in this decision we were pursuing as his heart had suddenly gone from peaceful to anxious. While my peace became solidified in a conversation over a salad plate, Ron’s began to unravel. In the span of a few hours we were trading places and the answers to our prayers becoming more evident. While I had prayed for peace to do what would be difficult and for acute awareness of the condition of my worldly heart, Ron was praying for wisdom and guidance as the leader of our household as to how this would all unfold. And as the days passed and the prayers became more intense, his peace with moving began to unravel as God started to answer his prayer for wisdom.

So you ask me, Sally, how was this an answer to prayer? And I can easily say that God was working on Ron and I individually knowing the states of our individual hearts. I have to wander if this journey was all about me and the need to re-align my goals and pursuits in this life. God bringing me to a point of surrender and then to an incredible sense of peace broke the stronghold this “stuff” of the American dream had me under. His allowance of anxiety in Ron’s heart as we approached this “sell date” spoke to us that this was about the journey of being willing to give things up, but that he wasn’t yet calling us to the actual decision. (Genesis 22 for full story- Abraham, take your son and lie him on the altar. Abraham, in your obedience as you carried your son to the altar, I now provide you instead with a substitute sacrifice to take his place). I think this process was about us discovering what we held dear and to get to a place where we “could” and “would” walk away from it all if needed. I don’t know if the full purpose of this exercise will be understood anytime soon. But I do know it is in preparation for “something” and that I am a better specimen of humanity today than I was in the days of yesterday as a result.

So while the lock box was removed from our door handle yesterday as we ended our pursuit to sell and chose to stay in our current house, the condition of my heart became a little less self-focused and a little more in alignment with the Sally He intended me to be. And the bond of our marriage became stronger as we sought, in unison and persistence, his plan for our lives and trusted him beyond our understanding of “what next”. Some of the most mentally exhausting weeks of our recent years, but some of the most fruitful and eye-opening in return. Thank you, Lord, for getting me past the ugliness of Sally and showing me once again that your way is the only true path to Joy. 


(And now to find a way to ensure I hang on to that for more than a month!)

April 24, 2015 - Old Made New

My mind is all a jumble. Swirls of this and that like oil drops skimming across a leftover rain puddle on the driveway. Just when you think you have the pattern figured out, the loop transitions just as quickly into a new pattern of blue, green, and red. You stand there mesmerized by the variations, but still unable to figure out the pattern and making sense of what is what no matter how hard you look. Constantly moving, shifting, swirling. We are in all sorts of disarray. Nothing serious, just this and that mingling us into a to-do list of enormous magnitude and complexity.  We took a week off for my birthday a week ago and headed to the Caribbean for some R&R and while that was relaxing and a great release from the here and now, we returned to find our plate even more scrambled. I'm longing for that beach side cabana chair again where the only thing that plagued our minds was if it was time to reapply sunscreen and how long had it been since our last nap.

I've shared with you some details around our house- to sell or not to sell. And while each day grew us closer to a decision to sell (to the point of meeting with agent, settling on a list price, and having a pre-sale house showing to someone who heard we might be selling all in 24 hours after returning from our trip), these past few days have that turned up topsy turvy again. We so desperately want to honor God in this process and as such have prayed for and sought wisdom and clarity with a ferocious tenacity, yet at the 23rd hour things again came to a crashing halt. Previously for me, this time for Ron. We live in a market where you put your house on the market that morning, that afternoon you have 6 showings, that evening you have 4 offers. So very awesome for sellers, so very terrifying for buying. Ron and I have worries about being able to find a house with us working full time and houses going under contract the day or two after they list. How can we keep up with that pace and working full time? And living in an apartment again until you can find a new house. Woe is me and my vain self.  But we know God provides if and when God calls. What a journey this has been as we learn about ourselves, our prayer lives, our dependency on each other, and even our vanity and lack there of. I honestly have found myself in a place I never could have imagined and it's a place where I have much more trust in myself and in God's ability to take something old (me) and make it (me) something new and better than before. His grace surely is enough to sustain me, and these 4 house walls are of the here and now are no longer a sustainer of my heart's content. I've learned I truly can part with these earthly items and that contentment comes outside of material gain. NOW, to see just how far God is going to take this for Ron and I. I have a lock box on my door, but have not yet committed to the sign in the yard. He has something in store, this I know, and I realize this process in and of itself may have been the true goal. I have so many of your praying for us in this, so I wanted to give you the update though I realize it is not all that informative as of yet.

I turned forty (absolutely no reflection on my mental disarray. smile). Yes, it happened. It is here and now it is gone as I guess I officially start my 41st year. As we all ask ourselves at this time point, "how in the world did we get here?" It seems just 5 years ago I was sitting in a wooden desk in a classroom trying to figure out if x = y then z = whatever it equals. Long gone are my blond pigtails and scraped up knees. Hello, wrinkled necks and floppy bellies. This week while sitting in a cafe, the waitress, in her 60s, was telling me about a plot with her 3 sisters to draw a line down the center of their chest and measure who has the saggiest boobs (I seriously don't know why she shared this with me but I think my telling her I just turned 40 started it. And how could I NOT share her story with you as well?). I almost broke out in a version of "do your boobs hang low..." but I quickly pulled myself together before embarrassing both her and myself. I got a great chuckle at this genius embracing of mid-age, and then got an even greater chuckle when I realized I certainly would lose (win?) that sag contest with boob 1 and boob 2.2 perfectly located where they should be ...well sort of, considering one implant has slipped out of place and the other is constricted up in a death grip of scar tissue. But all of that will be taken care of and I will soon be back to the victor of un-saggy impostors. Yep, another silver lining of mastectomy reconstruction. Still I encourage all of you to participate in this game of hilarity with your gal pals. Get out your magic markers and draw that line! Acceptance and tons of laughter. It sure does free up life for more important things!

Surgery #6 is approximately 3 months away (I could tell you the exact count-down but that would reveal it's role in my every day life, and I certainly don't want to admit defeat). It's not the dread of the procedure itself....ok, Sally, Shut up! It totally is the dread of the procedure. That stinking drain! My arch-nemesis. And then those stitches with Ron having to inspect the area every day to look for problems. The no showering. The surgical bra that turns into sports bras for weeks on end. The month long lifting restrictions.  Blah, blah, blah. One would think that after 6 goes at this I would be much more embracing, just as I was lecturing to you just one paragraph above. I definitely can claim "most improved" in that, but am far from certified in this task. I do in fact dread this the least of all the surgeries, maybe that is a numbness of here-we-go-again, but it still sits on my mental calendar every day. I only thought about it twice on vacation so I am making strides which I openly celebrate.

Three months away - and somehow we might fit in selling a house, moving from a house, (moving into an apartment?) buying a house, and moving into a house all in that time frame before the lift restrictions come into play.  Ron and I sure know how to keep things exciting (as we went to bed at 7:30 for the last two night in sheer exhaustion. Ok, so maybe we aren't all that exciting after all)! Thank you for your ongoing prayers for us as we seek out our role in God's plan.

Each month brings something new.



April 9, 2015 - The Big D

I had set a calendar reminder. I'm very guilty of doing the things "experts" suggest I don't. I use my email inbox as a to do list and have such great satisfaction in clicking "delete" after I finish a task. "Write orders for admission". Delete! Great satisfaction. Jovial delight. And for things that are not a specific time/date dependent, I send myself an email with the task in the subject line. "Send thank you note for the gift". Delete!  I'm not afraid to admit it's kind of a highlight of my work day. Delete! Sheer excitement with a matching grin across my face. "Pack for trip". Delete!  It's the Big D word that propels my day into greatness. (And I don't agree with the email experts of the world - us type A folks need this structure for sanity.)

The calendar reminder popped up on my screen and read "Contact Surgeon to confirm surgery date". I had no trouble with this task. Open up my email box. New message. Draft the question "Greetings! You had asked me to touch base with you in April and confirm the surgical date we had set for August. Is this still a go?" Sign and send. Open calendar reminder. Delete! One more thing off the to-do list for this week. And move on to item number 4 of the day "Print documents for meeting".  Delete! The Big D word was working quite well for me today and I was on a roll!
This day is certainly a success! Flash in the lower right hand of my computer screen - incoming mail.

Hi Sally:
Just confirmed his summer plans last week.
He is here and the time is available on Thursday August 6th
The surgery will be at the same location with a drain tube that will likely come out the following Wednesday 8/12.

Did you see it? There it sits. Yep, right there on the screen to where now all the other words are now without meaning and obsolete. 

Hi Sally:
Just confirmed his summer plans last week.
He is here and the time is available on Thursday August 6th.
The surgery will be at the same location with a DRAIN tube that will likely come out the following Wednesday 8/12.

The other Big D word. The MOST IMPORTANT D word that I know ever since August 7, 2012. The D word I thought I would never have to embrace again. The D word that didn't come up when we discussed plans for this upcoming surgery.  Mercy me, there it is right smack dab in the email staring me in the face without any room for
Deniability. Reply:

That all sounds terrific (minus the drain! But I totally want to have a drain if that is the best outcome). Thank you as always. This will be the last one. I'm sure of it, so i can do a drain one more time....my mental pep talk.
Sally

Hit send. DELETE! This time a tad less satisfactory and now questioning whether this email calender reminder is such a great thing after all. No reminder = no checking in = living oblivious to the Detail. Defeated, Deflated, Disgusted, Dreading, Down-right Dog-gone Down. I had a lot of new Big D words crossing my mind at that moment to surround the true Big D word in a crushing Disdain.

I will pull myself together in Delight again next week. This week, Disgruntled.  I allow myself 72 hours to mourn this Drain. Then I refuse to think of it again! Disclaimer: I realize it will sit there just under the surface. Dread it; loathe it.