And the road is the way He went

I live in the shadow of Pikes Peak.  It looms 14,115 feet above sea level and gains a treacherous 7,615 feet in elevation before reaching the summit.

Access to the summit can be achieved by hiking Barr Trail.  This trail is over 12 miles long and gains 7,615 feet in elevation. Lots of people who live in Colorado tell of their adventures hiking and climbing the mountain. Some folks run up and down the mountain in races, or charity walks, some hike trails with friends or alone, stopping to take pictures along the way. I have never set foot on it, and hope never to do so.  I am NOT one of those people. I don't hike for fun, climb for pleasure or run unless someone is chasing me. 

I've heard mountaineers talk about trailing in pairs or small groups.  Usually these groups are comprised of like minded people, laughing, talking or at times grunting together through the steep, uphills that occur occasionally along the way.

I find myself on a mountain road of sorts.  It's a spiritual journey on a path that is ever changing.  My life, and I'd guess yours also, is rocky and narrow in places, endlessly gaining in elevation that requires concentration and effort. I continue to put one hiking boot in front of the other, sometimes wondering if this rocky, steep place is really the path at all. Then I will come to a spiritual meadow where the breeze of the whisper of God is felt and the beauty of the Aspens are found.  
This morning I am enjoying the view from my kitchen window while studying the Word.  A rest area of sorts before having to climb again.  The road is beckoning. Come climb to a higher spiritual level, walk the rocky path with a friend or two, struggle and grow to know more of the Lord. I am so thankful for the like minded people who will climb with me.

And Jesus said, "Come and Follow me". And the road is the way He went.

(Oswald Chambers)

Unexpected death and the Table

We travel tomorrow to Washington State to gather with family.

A "celebration of Life" always brings relatives from all over the country,  people who have not gathered together in years but have the common bond of ancestors to adhere to when devastation comes.  We are saddened and shocked at the devastating loss of a family member who died much too soon.   Meanwhile, another family that has "adopted" me gathers in Arizona on the very same day for the very same purpose. My heart is broken.  Both families mourn the loss of people in their 40's supposedly in the prime of life, neither with a terminal diagnosis.  They were snatched out of everyday life with no warning. As we are preparing to join with family and weep together, I have been seeking guidance from the only One who has any answers.  Why?  that's always the big question.

I asked the LORD to lead me to a place in Scripture to find comfort.  He led me to Psalm 23. Seriously Psalm 23.  I thought, "Well, that's not terribly original" Everyone knows that Scripture, there must be something more I could be given than the verse on magnets all across the globe!

"Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I will not fear, for you are with me."

Great stuff, really great stuff but a bit overused don't you think God? As I continued my complaint to the Creator regarding His uninspired Scripture choice, He gently led me to verse 5.

"You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies."

And that is when the Spirit of the Lord led me anew in Bible study.

Just picture the scene...Jesus, the Christ is setting the table.  The table, a place to sit and rest, to find sustanance and strength. The Comforter is setting a place at the table for me, for you, for all the gathered loved ones.  All the while the enemy swirls around the room.  Jehovah Jireh doesn't make the enemy leave, which He certainly has the power to do - No, he just continues to provide for us a place to sit awhile, to rest with Him in the presence of the enemy.  The enemy is right there watching us sit with our Savior.  Oh, imagine how infuriating that must be for the enemy, to see us sitting awhile with God in the middle of his swirl of death and devastation.

The real question is, will you take a seat at the table?  It is an action, a decision -- that free will thing again.  Will I take a seat and rest with the Savior or will I continue to stand in the swirl the enemy wishes for more destruction.

Give us the strength this weekend to gather and sit together at the LORD's table set for us.

Catching up

Yesterday I sat and listened while a dear friend and I caught up on what has been happening in life. I had not had many conversations with her since she moved away and was truly excited to hear what was happening for her.

As we began our conversation over a meager lunch this precious woman opened up her life anew to me and reminded me of how much her friendship has meant to me along my journey.

In the eyes of the world my friend would be considered very successful, even powerful.  She is an attorney, a loving wife and mother, a leader, high up on the chain of command.  She has traveled the world, serving others all along the way.  She is among the most educated people I've met, or even heard about.  She is humble, soft spoken and God fearing. In the near decade of our friendship I have never heard her begrudge nor disparage any human being.  I truly respect and love her.  I have sought her very wise console on many occasions and she never fails to give Godly loving advice to me.

And She is disappointed in the system of the world.

You see the world says that we are only successful when we chase after the next promotion, the larger paycheck or the bigger residence.  The world says that climbing the ladder over the backs of others is an unfortunate reality - just the way it has to be done.

I was able to sit and listen to this women tell me of her disappointment that her promotion didn't look like it was coming through, how her career was probably not going to culminate in the outcome of her choosing.  She was not complaining, nor groaning.  She was simply telling me the facts as she saw them.   She spent some time over lunch discussing how God had used her disappointment to His glory and her benefit.  She quietly explained how her love of our Savior was growing and without the circumstances that she had suffered in her career and the betrayal of people she would not have been situated in such a divine way to seek God.

and she is resolved.

To continue to grow and learn about the Lord, to continue to serve her children, her husband and her community.

His ways are not my ways -

New Hope Indeed

Today my husband and I were honored to speak to the parents of the teenage girls who reside in the New Hope House in Utah.  There are currently 13 young ladies, ages 12-17 who live there. Their challenges range the gambit of risky behaviors.  The girls who live at this house have stories most people don’t want to hear and certainly stories their parents never thought they would have to tell. These families have been surrounded and nearly destroyed by divorce, death, drugs and all possible ugliness from a broken and depraved world.

Last week was a very very difficult week at our own house, For reasons best left unstated here,  i was not at all sure that we would be able to show up to the event that we’d had on our calendar for months. Parent visitation weekends occur every other month at the group home for girls outside of beautiful Salt Lake City.  These weekends are ripe with a mixture of emotions.  Having lived through the bittersweet ordeal of visiting our own daughter at New Hope House for 18 long months. a flood of emotions threatened to destroy any witness we might provide.  We were struggling ourselves and simply did not have anything to give.

That is exactly when God shows up!

We arrived Friday evening tired, angry and frustrated.  Sitting in the driveway before entering the house, we prayed, well begged really -for God to help us, to give strength where we could find none. We had nothing, absolutely nothing to offer.   The parent BBQ was in full swing as we entered the house.  Parents from all over the Western United States gathered to meet staff, tour the facility and hear progress reports, some for the first time since their daughters had arrived.  Some girls are here because their parents were courageous enough to seek radical help,  others are ordered by Judges, some are here because a teacher or counselor advocated for them. 

All of the families share one thing in common.  Devastating choices.

Some choices were made by the adults, others by the kids but all the families are broken as a result of choices. What is discovered in the journey is that all choices come with consequences.  These families come together to try to tackle those consequences together.  Small clusters of these broken families gathered to begin the process, the long, slow and difficult process of rebuilding relationships.  A Mom and daughter talking at the picnic table, a family in quiet conversation huddled on the patio, a divorced Mom and Dad sitting together with their girl attempting to connect for the first time in years.  Occasionally a tear falls or a laugh breaks through.  In hushed tones the tentative healing begins, slowly, cautiously.  We realized anew that we were called to witness the miracle of restoration.

The Directors of the group house, a Teen Challenge of the Rocky Mountains program are Matt and Heather.  A simple, no-nonsense couple who have lived in the trenches of youth ministry for years.  They are parents, partners and life changers giving their-selves to the hard work of the Savior daily - without ego or adequate compensation, without appreciation or gratitude and without grumbling.  They continue to stay in the dirt with the girls, breathing life where death threatens to destroy.  I am not only speaking spiritual death,  I am speaking about literal death.

I am blessed to be able to hear the reports first hand.  One girl rushes to me in the kitchen to welcome me back greeting me with a huge smile and a hug, another tells me in hushed tones how she invited Jesus into her heart.  As I come back to this place where miracles happen,  I am reminded that joy is found in the small victories. 

I am so thankful that there are people who will step into the trenches and do the work that God calls them to do, without earthly accolades.   I find that I am grateful for the staff at Teen Challenge of the Rocky Mountains New Hope House who have committed their lives to helping girls that many, if not most, would have tossed aside. 

I am confident of this, I have seen the goodness of the LORD in the land of the living. (Psalm 27:13)

730 days and counting...

Today marks day 730.  Two full years have passed since my new label was given me.

Survivor. 

Technically I have been a "survivor" for decades.  Many, if not most of us are.  We survive abuse, divorce, failure, disappointment but this was different.  This was silent, invisible and without warning. The "big one"- the Widow Maker.  The cardiologist was very clear in his amazement of my survival,  explaining what a miracle it was that I was alive.  Which left me with one large nagging question: Why?

That question evolved into several, What was I supposed to do with this gift of time? Would I be healthy enough to do anything? How much time, exactly, was there?  

I've had the opportunity to be the primary caretaker for several people who had a terminal diagnosis.   They were given a "heads up" if you will.  They were given a span of time for the opportunity to have conversations or reconciliations before death.  Often you hear people who have a terminal diagnosis say something about wanting more time.  More time to experience  _____________.    
Did something come to mind?

I would dearly love to say that I cherished each extra day.  That I spent each gifted moment with friends in laughter or sharing great family time.  I'd love to say that every morning I faithfully spent time with the Lord of my life, or enjoyed the beautiful setting of the Colorado Mountains with renewed appreciation.   I would be thrilled to report that broken relationships all have miraculously been restored because everyone realized life is fragile and to be cherished.

But I cannot.

The truth is that within hours of coming home from the hospital most things were business as usual. The people around me with few exceptions went right back to their lives.  Everything was the same dysfunctional "normal" in the days after the heart attack. Oh sure some things were different.  I didn't feel good, I had a new supply of medications, new appointments to keep and a new work out regiment but by and large, everything was just about the same.  Everything but Me.  

There is a longing now.  An urgency that I can't seem to explain. It has haunted me at times.  The kind of gnawing that keeps you awake at night.  This deep seated desire in my heart (no pun intended) for true genuine relationships, honesty, unity and legacy.  The desire for purpose and to use the gifted time well in service to the One who gifts time.  

There have been some simple things I have gotten to witness because of this extra time. Walks on a hiking trail with sunshine on my face, the opportunity to ride in a boat across a clear lake, watching a pre-teen boy make his first bucket in basketball and the resulting huge smile erupting on his surprised face.   The ability to have bible study discussions with real seekers or watching people I love ski on a sunny day in the Colorado high country. Big moments have also been given me in this stretch of time.  A  beautiful wedding in an aspen meadow inthe shadow of Pikes Peak on a perfect September day,  the ability to cuddle a newborn Haitian baby who wasn't suppose to survive,  being able to comfort a family dealing with a deadly diagnosis and watching them handle that news with grace and love in the sweltering heat of a third world country.    The complete joy in building relationship with one of the prodigals, and the announcement that my newest grand-baby is at this moment being knit together by the Creator.  

I realize now what I was to focus on in these past 2 years of my life.   It's the same thing that I was given opportunity to learn in the first 54 years, 3 months and 12 days.  Scripture says it best:

"I was under great pressure, far beyond my ability to endure, so that I despaired even of life.  Indeed, in my heart I  felt the sentence of death.  But this happened that I might not rely on myself but on God, who raises the dead."  (2 Corinthians 1:8b- 11-I personalized it by changing the pronouns, the emphasis mine)

I am indeed a new creation, the old is passed away, the new has come. (2 Corinthians 5:17)

May I be reminded to use my gifted future to rely on God, the Creator of it all. 

“Carve your name on hearts, not tombstones. A legacy is etched into the minds of others and the stories they share about you.” 
― Shannon L. Alder