Lost & Found, Grandpa & God

 I lost my ring last night.

I will replace it if I can. Otherwise, I will survive.

I lost my Grandpa 2 months ago.

Him I cannot replace.

I will survive without him too, but only because 1) God is good and sovereign, and 2) I don't have a choice.

My main way of coping lately, I'm afraid, has been to distract myself and try to ignore the severity and magnitude of the loss.

He was the most important person in my life. If I were married, that person would be my husband. If I were closer to my friends, it might be one of them.

But it was my Grandpa. My best friend. The center of my little universe.

And now he is gone.

It was a sudden loss. He hadn't particularly been declining, not fast enough to "warrant" his death that soon anyway. I hugged him goodnight the night before he died in his sleep. He just seemed a little more tired than usual. 

It was his birthday when he died.

That makes it sweeter and sadder all at once.

Isn't death a crazy thing? Isn't it so jarring? I wouldn't know - well, I know now - this is only the second death that's been this impactful to me. No, the first. The other death was Grandma's, 7 years prior to Grandpa's. But I wasn't near as close to her as I was to him. So hers was the first really hard death, and his was the second hard one but the first hardest death.

I think his death is jarring especially since it was so unexpected. Yes, he was an old man, but out of the blue on a Wednesday morning, he was dead. None of us saw it coming, not yet. Not that soon. Not that quick.

I also mourn because of my regret - regret that I only got there the night before to say goodnight and not to visit with him before he went to bed. Regret that I spent less time with him this past summer than I did the previous few summers. Regret that I didn't spend even more time with him, do even more odd jobs for him, love him even better...

I know that regret is basically useless because it can't change anything and will only make me feel awful. So I try to let it go.

But regardless... I still really miss him. I know I always will.

I wasn't ready to say goodbye.

I had a dream about Grandpa last night, finally. It was nice at least to see him there. I had no control over when he would die, and I have no control over my dreams, so in a way, I find it to be a sort of mercy that God would let me be with Grandpa in a dream. It was good to see him again.

I will never get my Grandpa back.

(I may never get my lost ring back either.)

I suppose I am finally really learning that nothing is forever down here - not lives, not possessions, not states of being, etc.

That is a good thing.

It points me to the only thing, the only One, who is forever, who is unchanging, who is all I truly need.

What is also good is that Grandpa's death reminds me of my own mortality, which causes me to reevaluate how I'm living and how I ought to be living.

And it very obviously serves me the wonderful reminder: this is not truly goodbye. This is not truly the end of Grandpa's life - it is the end of his mortality, the beginning of his life in eternity.

There is life beyond this life. We exist for a purpose and a hope and a timeframe far greater than the bounds of this human body and this crazy planet and this earthly lifespan.

It matters how we live now, both for the finite present and for the eternal future.

Grandpa showed me that in his life and reminded me of that in his death.

I exist to glorify God and enjoy Him forever.

He by His great love and mercy has saved me and made me His child - forever.

And that's the one thing I can never lose. 💚✝️

"Autumn Again" & "Blessings"

 ... and so, once again, for somewhere around the 6,000th time... summer gave way to Autumn at long last, the air chilled, the leaves began to turn and fall, and early October breezes began to usher in the faintest whisper of the year's end...

     It was a long-quick summer this year. Hot and slow... but it flew right by. Dry, too, towards the end, which delayed the leaves changing colors. Even now in mid-October, it's still rather balmy and there's still a lot of greenery. We might get snow before we get all our colors. We'll see.

    

I am so blessed.

God chose me and saved me.

He gave me a wonderful family.

He gave me a childhood in the country, on the farm, with my grandparents.

He gave me Grandpa - since birth, and a sweet friendship in my early adulthood. 

He gave me a good job on a good farm with good coworkers.

He gave me good school and work experiences.

He has and is providing for me in every way - physically, financially, etc.

He gave me an excellent biblical counselor.

He gave me an excellent childhood pastor and an excellent young adulthood pastor.

He gave me a great house, with a great family, nice clothes, nice things, a good car, good dogs, on good land, in a great area, and so many great memories.

I am so blessed. 💚

Thank You, Father. ✝️

a prayer - 6-4-24

 I am a fool, Father. I am building my life on sand. I am a willing but miserable slave to my own emotions, desires, impulses, dreams, and whims. I am serving myself. I am seeking my own glory. I am doing it all so very terribly wrong.

I hate it.

But not enough to change.

I am a hypocrite. I am lazy, selfish, ironically prideful - I am prideful when I have nothing to be proud of.

There is nothing lovely in me.

Anything good in me is of You.

You are good. You are powerful, perfect, mighty, merciful, gracious, sovereign, loving, compasionate; You are my Stronghold, my Savior, my God, my Master, my Father, my Creator, my Authority. You love me, You chose me, You saved me, You give me strength. All I have is from You. You are my Father and my God, and You are so good.

Thank You.

Thank You for loving me - first, most, always, to Your own hurt and to Your death. 

Thank You for saving me - for choosing, accepting, adopting, forgiving, redeeming me, and making me Your poeima. 

Thank You for all You've blessed me with - family, church family, friends, jobs, car, finances, health, food, posessions, experiences, opportunities, gifts, biblical counseling, animals, etc. Thank You, Father. I have all that I need - in You - and so much more. You were generous when You loved and saved me, and You are generous when You give me all that I have. Thank You. Help me to be a good steward of all You've given me. I am such a poor steward.

Help me to move my eyes from myself to You. Help me to focus on You, not me. Help me to love You better, and to love others as You do. Help me to deny myself, to die to myself, to pick up my cross, and to follow You and imitate You.

I am a fool, Father. I am so focused on self. I am not properly trusting or glorifying You. I am selfish, bitter, negative, lazy, jealous, prideful... I am ruled by my own sins and desires. I'm sorry. Please help me to get my eyes off myself and on You. Help me to think of You first and foremost and to live my life - to think, speak, and act - in ways that glorify You. Help me to serve You, not me. To fear You alone, no one else, nothing else. Give me a changed heart and changed desires. Help me to sell out for You, to completely give myself to You.

Thank You, Father.

I love You.

In Your Name,

Amen.

the wonder in the everyday

 you've got to find the wonder in your everyday.

you've got to fight to find it.

--especially in a day and age where we so easily, so greedily, so almost helplessly are constantly observing and digesting and applauding and/or bemoaning the wonder in *other* people's days... we have GOT to make sure we find the wonder in our own, or else we will be longing for someone else's while so devastatingly missing our own everyday wonder.

I did (as I semi-often do) a deep-dive into someone else's online presence recently. Well, 2 someones - one famous, one not. One an extremely talented, multi-award-winning (I'm sure), world-renowned/world-toured electronica artist (cough*Owl City*cough), whom I have loved (his music anyway) for years, ever since I heard "Fireflies" on a school bus in 1st grade, and whom (his music anyway) I have only more recently dove into headfirst and become entirely enamored with.

The other Internet deep-dive was one into the online presence of a wife and homeschooling mother.

Both - Owl City (Adam Young) and this mother - boasted old lovely blogs full of old lovely things: memories, life events, blessings counted, stories told, even a few poems written and/or shared -- glimpses (often big ones) into their own unique, individual, personal lives.

I loved the loveliness.

But I also freaked out a little... and started veering toward jealousy, covetousness, despair, insecurity, discontentment...

"That is a lovely life," I thought, as I read through their respective lovely lives. "I wish I was a talented singer/songwriter/musician/producer/artist. I wish I was a mom/homeschool teacher/wife/homemaker/liked-and-admired middle-aged woman. I wish I was happy and successful and financially care-free and productive and content and settled in my identity, my work, my calling, and my purpose."

I wish.

I wish.

I wish.

But then I took a small step back (begrudgingly -- blessedly -- not entirely of my own accord) and realized -- I have my own lovely life. I have so much to be thankful for, so many blessings to count, so much to be happy about, to find meaning in, to celebrate and love and NOT take for granted.

I am who I am for a reason and a purpose.

I am not someone else.

I do not have someone else's calling, or job, or life.

I have my own. My own work to do, my own gifts/talents to develop and use for God's glory, my own responsibilities, my own duties, my own passions, my own calling, my own relationships, my own possessions and finances and circumstances...

God has placed me where I am, and made me who I am, and given me what I have, for a reason. And that reason is to glorify Him, if nothing else. To find my utmost joy and contentment and purpose and love and freedom and satisfaction and peace in HIM -- nothing else, no one else.

There is no better set of circumstances for me. There is no better life for me than what the Lord has given me. There is no better place to be than in His will, loving Him and knowing His love, serving Him and not myself, glorifying Him and not myself, doing what He has called me to do, and doing it well, with a cheerful heart.

I am not rich. -- But I have enough money.

I am not famous. -- But I am known enough by the ones I love.

I do not have as much free time as I would like. -- But I have enough.

I am not as talented at ___ as so-and-so. -- But I can always improve my own God-given talents.

I am not (yet) a girlfriend -- or a wife -- or a mother -- or a homemaker -- or a homeschool teacher.

But, I am what I am right now for a reason -- a daughter -- a sister -- a granddaughter -- a calf feeder -- a seasonal park attendant -- a Sunday School teacher -- a friend -- a writer -- a singer -- etc.

God has placed me where I am for a purpose, and probably just for a season. After this season -- which will last only precisely as long as He intends it to -- there will come another season. There will be changes -- no, not all of them particularly pleasant to me -- and He will be constant and unchanging amid them all.

In the wise words of Darryl Worley: "sounds like life to me / it ain't a fantasy / it's just a common case of everyday reality"...

That's just life, according to the will and good purposes of God, which I will never perfectly understand, but -- I don't need to.

I have only to leave my cares, dreams, and future in His hands, cling to Him in faith, and do the work He has given me, in cheerfulness and contentment.

He is good. 

Life is good.

And I choose to find the wonder in my everyday. 💚✝

thoughts on Mondays (on a Saturday evening) - Soli Deo Gloria

     I like Mondays, actually, currently.

    (And that’s saying something, because I have regrettably turned into the kind of person who quite rather absolutely detests Mondays, and mornings, et cetera, with a passion.)

    But, currently, I like Mondays. (And I am slowly warming to mornings.)

    Mondays mean working my part-time farm job from 2-6 pm.

    I love my farm job. I feed calves.

    I love them. They are so cute.

    Calves are perfect for a girl like me - they’re alive, they’re interactive, they’re cuddly and friendly -- but they don’t judge, they don’t yammer on in conversation, they don’t say things I don’t like or ask me questions I can’t answer.

    They’re alive, but they’re not human.

    It works okay for me that way.

    Granted, I work with another girl to feed them, and we talk. She’s nice. I like her too. She does most of the talking and I do most of the listening, but I think that works okay for us.

    I like Mondays lately.

    Work at 2 means I can sleep in a little. I’m trying to get up earlier anyway - especially since my other part-time job requires a 5:30 am wakeup - but it’s nice, even if I do get up pretty early, not to have to rush to go anywhere right away.

    On Mondays I get up and read my Bible and pray… and I’m still working to nail down a schedule for the in-between hours before I go to work, but usually it’s a bit of housework, maybe some reading, writing, music-listening… tending to my mini pony, maybe going on a run… catching up on laundry… prepping for teaching Sunday School… and, finally, getting ready for work, eating lunch, swinging by my Grandpa’s place to chat for a bit, and then heading off to the farm.

    It’s a 10-15 minute drive. (Not quite 10, not quite 15.) I listen and/or sing along to whatever CD is currently in my car’s CD player -- Owl City’s “The Midsummer Station” right now; before that, “Ocean Eyes” also by OC, and “All That is Within Me” by MercyMe, and “Past the Edges” by Chris Rice, and “Amusing” also by CR. I need - NEED - to get one of the 5 Bebo Norman CDs I own in there soon. (Bebo Norman is my FAVORITE.)

    My car’s AC doesn’t work, so as the weather warms up for late spring now, I usually put the windows down somewhat, and turn the music up a little louder. It doesn’t get much more Americana-summer-esque than that, does it?

    When I get to the farm, I navigate my car between whatever farm machinery might happen to be in the way, park where I usually do, gather my things, clock in, then enter the barn, pop in one wireless earbud, boot up my Spotify playlist (current fave: a mix of Bebo Norman, Owl City, Switchfoot, Fernando Ortega, a little country, and a whole lot of early 2000s CCM), and get to work.

    While I work, I listen to aforementioned lovely music. And while I do that, I dream a little.

    I have to be careful with my dreaming. I have to keep myself in check. Which is way totally absolutely easier said than done.

    I try to focus on what I am physically doing. Fill this bucket. Pick it up, feel the weight. Walk over here, dump this, sweep that, rub this calf’s snout, pat that one on the head, check this one’s bucket of grain - ope, more grain - fill the grain bucket, heft it back to the calves, pour a little - not too much - ope, that’s too much - into the buckets, check their bedding, fill the wheelbarrow with sawdust, shovel sawdust into stalls, put wheelbarrow away, what was I doing again?... oh right, dreaming… nope, back to the calves… what song is this?... what next?...

    I try to focus on what I am physically doing.

    I try to focus on God.

    This second one’s way harder for me to achieve.

    I’m so earthly-minded, so self-centered, so - yes, I’ll admit it - lazy, selfish, proud, vain.

    I set my mind and heart and attention on lesser things, earthly things, fleshly things… I order my world to give it the best chance of revolving around - who else? - moi. Yours truly.

    “Yours truly” -- haha.

    Truth is hard for me to come by these days.

    Well no, not really. I know the truth. I ingest it every day - in the Bible, in theological and/or Scripture quotes on social media, in the Christian songs I listen to, in the (few) conversations I have…

    I come across a whole bunch of truth.

    But also a whole bunch of lies.

    And I’m not diligent enough, or confident enough, to always - or consistently - or responsibly - discern the truth vs. lies in my daily life.

    --Add to all of this the fact(s) that I am a young adult really just learning how on earth to live life, with a high school diploma and 2 years of college (no more, no less) under my belt, plus a whole bunch of uncertainty, cluelessness, starry-eyed fantasies, a bit too much self-interest, and all the mental/emotional inhibition of a hopeless romantic (which ain’t much).

    I’ve found that I love playing the victim, too. (Ouch.) I have become a top-rated heavyweight mental prizefighter over the years, proficient and extremely successful at beating myself up - unnecessarily. (Just like worrying - beating oneself up is entirely unnecessary.)

    I’ve found that I am way too loathe to own up, take responsibility for my actions, exercise some self-control and maturity and responsibility and dying-to-self-ity, and glorify God. Honor Christ. Turn to Him, cast my gaze (and my cares) upon Him, prize and cherish Him above all else, find my comfort & worth & identity & joy in HIM. No one else. Nothing else.

    In

                    Christ

                                        alone.

    Anyway.

    I like Mondays lately.

    My identity is (secure) in Christ.

    God has equipped me with all that I need to live for Him.

    I have a responsibility and a purpose to fulfill!

    There is (much) work to do!

    It is up to me to make God-glorifying choices - every day all over again - which will gradually form habits, which will pretty well determine how I live my life.

    How do I live my life? -- I answer that question with another question:

    How would God have me live my life?

    -- There’s my answer. There’s the roadmap.

    It’s not easy, but it is simple: glorify God. Die to self. Live for Christ.

    Know God’s love personally, love God, and love others.

    All of life for the glory of God.

    Every Monday (liked or not), every calf fed, every bucket hefted, every word spoken, every mile driven, every song sung, every relationship nurtured, every job done, every hour volunteered, every dream dreamed…..

    All

    For the glory

    Of God.

    Simple as that. 💚✝

I Love You

 I love you.

-- so, I will care about your soul and your person, both in outward display and in my heart. I will show such concern by my words and actions, both to you and to others, words and actions grounded firmly in God's truth.

I love you.

-- so, I will demonstrate to you the very highest form of love, which is God's love, through Christ, shining through me as His vessel, child, image-bearer and gospel-message-bearer; I will do so by speaking His truth as shown in His Word: truth of creation, of who He is, of what He has done and is doing and will do, of who we are (both physically and spiritually), of what He requires of us, of how we are to respond to Him, of our burden of sin, of His gift of grace and salvation through the blood of Christ, and of our eternal destination(s) and how we get there.

I love you.

-- so, I will love you as God loves you, as best I can; love which is marked by compassion and graciousness, and a firm adherence to the truth, God's truth; neither compromising on genuine care and concern for your soul and your true well-being, nor on the unwavering, unchanging reality of His truth.

I love you.

-- so, I will not entertain or encourage your lies or deceptions, whether realized or unrealized, whether to yourself or to others.

I love you.

-- so, I will recognize, remember, and honor you as who you truly are: a human being, imago Dei -- made in the image of God, knitted by Him in your mother's womb, known and cherished by Him before you were conceived; eternally the same biological person you were at birth, despite any outward appearances or claims (physical or verbal), and any inward persuasions (mental or emotional).

I love you.

-- but, I love God more than I love you.

I love Him first and foremost.

I am primarily responsible to Him, I answer chiefly to Him, I owe my most ardent and intentional obedience, love, respect, and praise to God and God alone.

I love God.

-- so, I love you.

I love you because He loved me first.

I love you because you have been made in His image.

I love you with the love of God through Christ, so graciously and freely and lavishly displayed to and bestowed upon me; 

an awesome, tremendous, staggering love, the highest love, a love He desires to lavish on you as well; 

a love which He desires you to know personally, to wholly captivate your heart, to draw you to Him, to bring you to salvation; 

a love which He desires to give to you to make your own, to share so freely with others, a love grounded in truth and holiness, from God, by God, and for God, to His glory and honor and praise.

I love you with the love of God.

And so I love you in His truth.

And so I exhort you to turn to Him and to know that love yourself. 

I love God.

And I love you. 💚✝

"In this the love of God was made manifest among us, that God sent His only Son into the world, so that we might live through Him. In this is love, not that we have loved God but that He loved us and sent His Son to be the propitiation for our sins. Beloved, if God so loved us, we also ought to love one another." - I John 4:9-11

movin' on .. maybe -- from 2-26-23

 sometimes we must move on.

sometimes all we can do is move on.

sometimes we must simply move on.

sometimes it's as simple as moving on.

sometimes, though it hurts, we must move on.

sometimes we just must.

--

From August 2021 to May 2022, I was enrolled at the loveliest little Christian college.

For 9 crazy and wonderful months, I was a Grace Tiger.

My coach still tells me I am yet a Tiger.

But of course it doesn't feel the same. I was a Tiger for a year, I may forever be an old/alumnus/honorary Tiger, but I will (likely) never actively be a Tiger again.

It cuts. 

Like tiger claws shredding my heart. 

It really hurts.

these days I am a mostly-miserable community college student. I'm the worst student I've ever been. last semester I got a 3.47 GPA. I've never had a GPA that low. I didn't make any lists--not the President's List, not even the Dean's List.

last year, as a Tiger, I made President's and then Dean's.

I've just become worse and worse as a student since high school.

i don't know what I'm gonna do with myself.

these days I am filling my time, my soul, my heart, my head with select 80s music, inflated procrastination, the looming doom and gloom of the future, and the ever-abiding (even if just an undercurrent) feelings of hopelessness, despair, and emptiness.

I go back and forth, often, on longing for a boyfriend/future husband as well. I've never been in that kind of relationship. sometimes I doubt I ever will. sometimes I'm sure I will someday, but I'm tired of waiting. sometimes I'm scared of the prospect of being in a relationship like that. sometimes I don't mind being single; it's "safer," it's familiar, I can handle it and maybe I'll be single forever.

more than longing for love... I'm longing for just something fulfilling. something reassuring. something exciting, some sort of adventure, but careful and calm and controlled, too. something with just the right balance of surprise and familiarity; something perfectly thrilling and gentle all at once. it's a balance.

spring break's coming up. I've never really done anything for spring break. this time I'm thinking I've got to do something. I've just got to get out of here, even if it's just a day trip, something, anything. I've felt stagnant and trapped, almost, for far too long and I just need some sort of little lovely adventure.

I'll probably just go out on a drive. that's what I do, when I can, to make myself feel better or at least to better tolerate the awfulness.

i went on a midnight drive a couple weeks ago. I'd never done that before. i just walked out to my car at midnight and drove off down rumbly dirt roads, through a tiny sleeping town, around a little lake, past country houses, down country roads, for a good 45 minutes or more, phoneless (how freeing) and having swapped out the current CD in the player for an old favorite I hadn't played since summer.

it was a good drive.

it did make me feel a bit better.

come to think.... i'd like to do it again.

maybe I just will.

On Bebo Norman, Music, and the Glory of God

 I've become "very musical" the last couple of years.

Lately I've been on a Bebo Norman kick. I have four - four!! - Bebo Norman CDs in my car (along with my 40 other CDs, spilling out of a torn old plastic bag across the backseat) and the past month or so I've been flipping between his "Try" and "Big Blue Sky" albums. (Right now "Try" is in my CD player. Fabulous.)

Bebo Norman is, since 2013 ish, out of the "official music business" (to which I say good for him) and is currently a Physician Assistant in Tennesee (to which I also say good for him). I only know this from my brief, bare-minimum, and very interested Googling. It's kinda funny to look at his picture on the hospital website -- Bebo Norman, one and the same as the much-younger and more dramatic-looking Bebo on my four (four!!) CD covers -- now pictured looking a little older and wearing glasses and a white lab coat.

It makes me smile. :) 

An old interview of his that I found online featured him recounting how he had planned, out of high school, to go to med school and enter the medical field, but his so-planned *one year of doing music* turned into a very successful 20-year music career, which he eventually decided to exit due both to wanting to spend more time with his family and feeling the weight and daresay, at times, shallowness of taking personal, meaningful songs and stories -- and resinging, retelling, reperforming them night after night. The authenticity, the realness, even the power and the magnitude of those songs and stories rather dim over time of resharing them too much.

--That's partly paraphrases of his own admissions, and partly my own (sympathetic? critical? self-imposed?) speculation.

--Anyway. 

I, a hopeless-romantic, ever-daydreaming-20-yr-old currently working as a part-time flower-waterer and part-time calf feeder, will keep on singing and humming and listening to my four and counting (four!! and counting!!) Bebo Norman CDs, and Bebo Norman, I'm sure, will continue in his "newfound" medical career for the foreseeable future. (For a while, anyway.)

Music is timeless, as long as we have record of it, or the tune and the words, or the memory of the song -- music is timeless, but our life circumstances at any given point in time are not.

Who knows where *I'll* be 20 yrs from now? (--Raptured, I hope.)

Who knows?

Will I still have my Bebo Norman CDs?

I'm sure I'll still remember his songs.

And it doesn't much matter where I'll be 20 yrs from now, because I'm not there now. I'm here. And right here, right now, I have my four (four!!) Bebo Norman CDs, which I am very much enjoying. I water flowers and feed calves, and Bebo does medical stuff. ;P

I believe God has placed both of us right where we are, intentionally, for a reason and with a purpose.

I wonder if Bebo ever hums his own songs while he's moving about his day. Maybe he hums other people's songs. 

I hum his songs, anyway. They are a cheer and a comfort to me, and though I've never met him and I truly don't know Mr. Norman, via his songs, he feels almost like a bit of an old friend.

His music points me to One Who truly is my Friend. To One -- the only One -- Who is guiding me through my life by His plan, Who is sustaining and covering and holding me secure with His goodness, love, mercy, grace, discipline, and sovereignty.

May I never (if I even could) find more comfort in a song than I do in my Savior.

The only comfort in music comes from said music lifting up the Name of the Lord, pointing my weary soul and my lowered eyes to Christ, and reminding me that He is good, He is holy, He is gracious and merciful and just and sovereign, He loves and cares for me, and He is in control. He has been so kind to me and done so many wonderful and mighty things; He has been faithful, is faithful, and will ever be faithful.

We need to engage with God-centered, God-glorifying music. Too much music out there is blasphemous, heretical, wicked, shallow, self-centered. There's no room for navel-gazing, though I admit I often fall prey to such a practice, and it slips into a lot of otherwise very good songs.

I alternate my Bebo Norman -humming with hymn -humming lately, though as I've got Bebo on repeat in my car and not hymns, I'm more easily able to come up with the Bebo lyrics than the hymn ones. And that's not inherently wrong.

May we (I) always be quick to evaluate our motives, what we are doing, thinking, dwelling on, and why. May we make the necessary corrections to ensure we are living our lives in accordance with God's will for us as laid out in His Word; that we are doing our very best to live to glorify Him.

-

Bebo Norman will never see this blog post. (I can pretty confidently say that.) --And that's okay. I deeply appreciate his music and am happy to know even as little as I do about him, and I'm sure he'd be likewise happy that I and the general public like me know only that little (--who wants a complete stranger to know half their life story?). So I am content (more than content) with what little I know of Bebo Norman. He is not defined only by his music (his medical career, at the least, proves that), but God has sure blessed him with great musical gifts, and I'm so grateful that he used them to glorify God and point others to Him.

May I do the same with the gifts God has given me, whether it be music or medicine or anything else.

God is good. 

Always. 💚✝

Grandpa & Grandma -- 8-15-22

Last night, Grandpa had me look in the closet in the laundry room (the "little bedroom" as we call it, I believe, though I don't think it was ever a bedroom...) for a new bag for the vacuum. Yes, an old enough model to require a vacuum bag. ;) - It feels like one of those "if you give a mouse a cookie" stories, but go figure when I looked in the closet to get the vacuum bag, I saw a bunch of Grandma's old sweaters, cardigans, and shirts hanging up, which, of course, reminded me of Grandma. And reminded me how much I miss her. And the sweaters still smelled like her and the cardigans still had old crumpled tissues in the pockets. I nearly expected her to come around the corner and put one on. I was really wishing she would. - I mentioned it to Grandpa-- missing Grandma. Naturally, he shared the sentiment. To him, she was a wonderful wife and mother. To me, she was a wonderful grandma. She was an all-around wonderful lady, and we loved her, and as such, now that she's gone, we miss her. - The thing about missing her is that it reminds me how grateful I am to still have Grandpa. So it's kinda bittersweet. I wish I still had Grandma--boy how I wish!--but knowing she's gone keeps me remembering that people are temporary--they don't live forever--and that reminds me to make the most of the time with the people I still have. Like Grandpa. - I miss my dear Grandma. A whole lot. And so I cherish deeply my time with Grandpa; I know someday I'll miss him too. But not right now I won't, because he's still here. And I'm deeply grateful for that. 💚 --- old writing I stumbled upon tonight: --- What do I want maybe most in the world? I want to hug my Grandma. I want to fold into her sun-spotted arms. I want to press against her wrinkled cheek. I want to breathe in the sweet nostalgic scent of the hairspray she uses to keep her light white curls intact, and the gentle musky perfume she’s applied since forever, and I want to match the pace of my tennis shoes to that of her old tan oxfords as they scuff dependably across the floor. I want to hug my Grandma. But I can’t. I can’t hug her anymore-- she’s no longer here to hug. She’s passed away. She’s inhabiting Heaven. I still want to hug her. I really want to. I miss her something awful. But I’m okay. It’s okay. Because Grandma’s okay. She finally truly is. And someday… Oh, someday soon… Someday soon, I’ll be okay too. I'll be somewhere Where I'll no longer miss her. And I’ll be there forever At long lovely last. 💚

Kansas - here I go

 Kansas, 2 yrs ago.

(A missions trip with my youth group to serve at a children's Christian summer camp.)

I thought being 20 hrs away from home for 10 days was gonna be the end of the world.

It wasn't.

It was the first doorway into a new world for me - Kansas, then my first real job, then off to college...

Kansas wasn't the end of the world; it was the beginning of a new world.

2 yrs later I find myself feeling again like it's the end of my world. But not because of another new and strange beginning; this time, it's because of an ending.

The end of my college career (for the foreseen future anyway) - the end, the very bitter end, of 16 years of school (preschool all the way thru 2 yrs of college).

I've been "an adult" for two years now, but only just now does it really feel like my adulthood is beginning.

I just filed taxes for the first time, for goodness' sake.

I am finishing my decade-and-a-half-long school career.

I am ending everything I've ever known.

At 20 years old, I should feel that my life is only just beginning.

But instead I feel a deep and dark and very bitter ending.

I don't know where I'm going. And even with my faint ideas and plans for the future, I'm not fond of the unfamiliarity. The uncertainty and the unmarked territory.

Here I go, a timid 20, into the vast unknown of adulthood.

Here I go from 16 years of school straight into the workforce, straight into a new job.

Here I go armed with dusty old childhood dreams, a bubbling cauldron of anxiety, and very little real-life experience, very very little connection with reality.

Here I go, with a teardrop cowering in the corner of my eye, with my resume, my little white car, my student loans, my stash of stuffed animals, my dismal hopes, my faded dreams, my raging fears, the occasional coffee, a few too little hours of sleep, and my sometimes flagging faith.

Here I go.

I am anxious.

I am uncertain.

I am feeling woefully unprepared, more than a little depressed, absolutely clueless and terribly unconfident.

But here I go.

And go I must.

And all I can do is continue to remind myself Who goes with me... and with Whom I go. 💚✝

Nobody But God

Nobody but God.

No significant other

No parent

No friend

No cherished loved one

No respected colleague

No pastor

No counselor

No role model

No one

Nobody but God

Can complete you.

Nobody but God can provide true fulfillment.

Nobody but God can offer true wholeness.

Nobody but God can give true (lasting) joy, true (all-encompassing) peace, true (fulfilling) love.

Nobody but God can truly minister to your deepest pain, deepest sorrow, deepest grief and guilt and despair.

Others can certainly help. They may be used by Him to help.

But they can't go all the way. They can't completely fix things.

Nobody but God can do that.

In honesty-- at this point in my life I often find myself longing for a boyfriend. I find myself--might I remind myself, mistakenly--thinking that a boyfriend would make me feel complete, truly loved, satisfied, whole, content.

But that's not true.

Nobody but God can do that. Nobody but God can truly give me those things.

If I expect to be complete and fulfilled by the presence of a boyfriend, I'd only be crushed and further dismayed on finding that he can't do that. He's not capable. No human being is capable of fully completing me, fulfilling me, making me feel truly, wholly at peace.

Nobody but God.

No matter how I think or feel, the truth of the matter is that nobody (but God) can fully satisfy me. Nobody but God can give me true fulfillment. Nobody but God can provide true contentment.

That's (more than) cause enough to turn to Him for true fulfillment, wholeness, joy, peace, and love.

He is complete.

He is not lacking.

He is perfect.

He is the true Source of true joy, peace, and love.

Turn to The Complete and what do you receive? Completeness.

Turn to the incomplete and what do you receive?... Exactly.

Turn to God. 

You belong to Him.

He alone can satisfy. 💚✝️