Forests and Trees

Feb. 20, 2013
 

Every day for work, I drive the same way.  Along the way is the new high school that is being built.  I still enjoy watching construction which is a kickback from my old engineering design/drafting days.  So, I’ve been watching the building go up.  In awe, I watched the massive amount of ground work which always impresses me most because it seems it would be so hard to measure ground accurately and move dirt around in ways to match the plans I used to draw.  Then I watched the steel work go up.
 

 

 Then, last week, on my same drive that I make every work day, I saw the other building.  There was another whole building steel frame going up that I had missed!  How???  I instantly thought, “Wow, I missed the forest for the tree.”  And then I wondered, “How often do I do that?” 
 

 

 Far too often, I focus on the details or only certain aspects of things and I miss the bigger perspective or the bigger lesson to be learned.  God works through details but only for the bigger picture to be seen.  Jesus came to save but he proved his divinity through his miracles.  If we get stuck on only the miracles, we are left with questions such as, “If Jesus can heal, why not heal everyone?” or “If God can, with one little effort, blot out pain and suffering, why doesn’t he?”  Lately, I’m left a bit flat with the answer that Jesus came to save, not to heal.  I know that is the truth.  I know that is the bigger picture.  It’s the forest.  But the mighty sequoia deserves some individual attention too.
 

How do you reconcile an image of God standing back and just watching while suffering and pain continues?  How does He stand back when He could rescue all of us?  And then, after standing back, He wants ME to reach out to Him?  They are questions I’ve chewed on as of late.  They are the trees that narrow our view of the forest.

Ultimately, the only answer I know is that we have to always go back to scripture, the Word of God, to know God’s character and to test whether that character lines up with what we are feeling or thinking about God.  Does God stand back and watch us suffer in a detached, dare I say, even sadistic, way or does He stay as close as He can, hurting with us along the way, and long for us to reach out to Him?  From scripture, I know God is all love so I have to land on the latter part of the question.  Love isn’t sadistic.  It isn’t detached.  It isn’t uncaring.
 

Perhaps the best answer still falls on having that fearless trust so beautifully described in Ps. 27:13-14.
 

“I remain confident of this:  I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.  Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord.”

Knowing My Own Strength

Jan. 30, 2013

Strength seems to be a theme this week.  Several times in counseling we have discussed how fear can keep you from doing what you want to do or should do.  That fear is usually rooted in a belief that you can’t withstand another hurt.  “I won’t be able to take it again” or “I won’t survive it again” is the thinking that drives the fear.  It’s a lack of confidence in their strength.

I think that is where Romans 8:28 comes into play: “And we know that God causes all things to work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose.”  Too often people use this verse to try to comfort people who are in the midst of their pain and suffering.  I think it is more of a verse to be used in hindsight.  That is, it is easier to discern the good that comes from the suffering when you are looking back on the situation, not when you are in the middle of it.

The good that came of my abuse was impossible to see during my recovery.  Hate, anger, shame, and guilt skewed my perspective in looking for the good.  In fact, that idea was absurd to me!  Actually, I’ll take it a step further and say it seemed twisted even perverted to suggest that something good would come of all that.

But now I can see it.  Above all else, I know just how strong I am.  I remember thinking as a 20 year old that rape would be something I couldn’t survive.  I know better now.  I used to think that having some break down moments came from weakness.  In all honesty, I still struggle with this one from time to time, but I know ultimately that it takes strength to show pain.  I know what I can endure.  I know what I can come through.  That isn’t to say that I think I can handle anything that comes my way.  There are definitely things that cause me to think, “Yeah, you’d have to hospitalize me for a while on that one.”  But even in that recognition, I am acknowledging the limits of my strength, not the depths of my weakness.

I also know now that my strength isn’t really my strength.  It is based on a trust in God that, for the first time in my life, feels enduring to me.  Always in my struggles before, God felt far from me.  I felt alone – even abandoned.  Over the last couple of years though, I have learned to trust that God is faithful, rock-solid, immutable, and invincible because He loves me.  He made me to be strong, not to break – which brings me to a song….  (Make sure you catch the quote at the end of the video!)

Into Your Hands, O Lord

Jan. 23, 2013 (written)

This week my 18 year old son is going to attain one of his dreams.  I think it is safe to say that it is a life-long dream for him.  For me, I cringe.  He is buying a street bike.  I’ve heard all the slang terms for motorcycles: murder-cycle, donor-cycle, crotch rocket.  They certainly don’t help the cringe-factor so I certainly don’t need to hear them repeated to me.  But, I have to say, I am also excited for him.  I am excited for him to reach this goal.  I am proud of him.  I am excited because he is excited.

Tonight, as I requested prayers for him as he gets this street bike, I heard all the gasps (of differing varieties) and a part of me gasps just the same.  My momma’s heart gets scared of worst case scenarios.  I know that even if Aron is the safest of all motorcyclists that the other drivers on the road tend to not give the motorcycles the respect of distance and space they deserve.  But I also know that I can’t protect him from everything.  Four broken arms and stitches in his chin are proof of that.

So, I find myself saying my mantra, which is my little prayer, that I’ve used so much throughout Kelsey’s illness: “Into Your hands, O Lord.”  It’s a reference to Jesus’ last words on the cross.  With his last breath, Jesus mustered the last of his strength to cry out “with a loud voice, [and] said, ‘Father, into Your hands I commit My spirit’ (Luke 23:46).”  Jesus gave up his spirit to God who then received it.  When I say those words as my prayer, I am reminded that I am not in charge.  I am reminded that I have no control in this situation.  I am reminded that I have a God who is in charge, who is in control, who receives my prayers, and who loves me and my loved ones deeper and wider than I could ever imagine.

Admittedly, this week my mantra is already well used.  I have to say that it has helped me to stay more positive in my son’s decision, so much so, that I find myself trying not to smile from his contagious excitement.  If you see me whiz by on the back of a white street bike Saturday afternoon, please just smile and wave and repeat after me, “Into Your hands, O Lord.”

 

Fearless Trust

Jan. 16, 2013

For over two weeks now my asthma has been really bad.  In fact, this is the worst it has been since my acid reflux surgery eight years ago.  I’ve been nursing a nebulizer every 4 hours except for while I’m asleep.  Last Saturday, Tim asked me how I was going to be able to teach because the more I talked the worse it got.  I decided I had to swallow my pride and, if necessary, take a break in class and smoke my peace pipe.  And, I prayed.  I asked God not to let this hinder my teaching (and my enjoyment from the class) in any way this week.  He answered my prayer.  Monday and Tuesday I did my nebulizer during lunch but other than that, I was not inhibited in my teaching.  I barely even coughed.  Today, I didn’t even need my nebulizer until I got home after class.  Wow.

But, this morning during class I got a text that Kelsey was not feeling any better at all.  Since Sunday, she has had severe stomach and abdomen pain, pain when she breathes, nausea, vomiting, and body aches.  Each day, we figured it must be something viral since she is on all these antibiotics already.  But she wasn’t improving, in fact, she can hardly keep water down.  So, she’s getting dehydrated which affects her POTS symptoms.  In other words, her heart rate jumps up 50-60 beats per minute just by standing up.  I had left the classroom on a break to talk to Tim on the phone to get an update and when I returned to the classroom, I found my class praying together for Kelsey and my family.  It brought tears to my eyes.

So, I handed out the test and pulled out my Bible to read something from it.  My Bible opened to Psalm 27 which is titled, “A Psalm of Fearless Trust in God.”  I thought, “How perfect is that?  Here I am wondering why my prayer about me is answered yet I continue to wait on answers for my Kelsey prayers.”  I read it through three times, praying it as I read it.  I understand the answer that God gave me in this.  I understand in my head, logically, intellectually, that I have to have a fearless trust in God that knows He is in control, that He has a plan, and that He loves us all.

But, I have to admit, it is a struggle for me to fully accept that answer as THE answer.  Just five or six hours later, as I was driving home, I was drawn back to that same question:  “Why answer this prayer and not that one?”  I feel frustration with a tinge of despondency and sadness.  I want to be assured by knowing the plan and seeing His control.  My heart longs for it like nothing else.  Trusting provides the courage for my heart while I wait for the Lord.

“I would have despaired unless I had believed

that I would see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.

Wait for the Lord; Be strong and let your heart take courage; Yes, wait for the Lord.”

~ ~ Ps. 27:13-14

Looking Behind Isn’t What It’s Cracked Up to Be

Jan. 6, 2013

I heard something today that made me laugh partly because it is funny and partly because it rings so true.  The topic was keeping your focus forward.  If you focus on the past, you will stay there.  If you stay right where you are today and not move, you are just as “dead.”  But, if you look forward and are constantly reaching forward, you live more fully and God will bless you.  Your body is designed to move forward.  Your eyes are in the front of your head so you can see ahead.  Your arms and hands can reach much further forward.  But, they can only reach a small amount backwards.  Your feet are designed to keep you balanced as you walk forward.  The only thing that is behind you is your behind!  If you put your behind in front of you, then you will only end up stepping in your own mess.

In 2 Kings 7, four lepers were exiled from the city in famine.  They knew they couldn’t go back to the city because they were already thrown out due to their leprosy plus, there was famine in the city so they couldn’t get food anyway.  They also knew that if they stayed where they were they would die of starvation just the same.  The only viable option was to go out to the enemy’s camp and hope that they wouldn’t die there too.  So, they moved forward.  They tried something different from what they have been doing which wasn’t working at all.  They stepped out, and when they did, God blessed them by scaring away the enemy.  When the lepers reached the enemy camp, it was deserted but all the food, tents, horses, donkeys, silver, gold, and clothes were left.  In the midst of desperation and desolation, they found abundance in such a way that only God can provide. 

As we have started this New Year, as a family, that is our focus.  There are some things in our lives that we need to change in an effort to restore some normalcy in the midst of illness.  We are looking at our present situation and seeing where we need to step out on faith and make changes.  We are looking forward.  I am so sick of talking about sickness.  I’m so tired of talking about fatigue.  I am looking forward to improved health for all of us because isn’t that what we all want – to be even just a little healthier than the previous year?  That’s why so many diets are started as New Year’s Resolutions.  I am looking forward to a closer relationship with my Lord and Savior.  I am looking forward to reaching toward a better, more concrete plan for Aron’s flight training.  I am looking forward to Kelsey getting her driver’s license in a few months.  I am looking forward to being able to spend more time in my secretary-elect position at Christian Counselors of Texas (especially now since the role looks like it will be expanding).  I am looking forward to more dates with Tim (hint, hint!).  I am so looking forward to see how God will bless me and my family this year.

Call Home

Jan. 1, 2013 New Year’s Day

I was driving in the car with Kelsey the other day.  I pushed the SYNC button on my steering wheel and say, “Call home.”  Sometimes the SYNC system doesn’t hear me correctly so I have learned to enunciate more clearly and say more of a hard “H” sound when giving it the command to call home.  The response is, “There are two options.  Please say which line you want to choose” or something to that effect.  Kelsey giggles a little and I say, “Cancel” so I can try again.  I push the button again and said “Call home” a little more loudly and clearly and a little irritated.  The response is, “Tuning to Cosmo radio.”  Kelsey outright laughs and I glance at the screen to see the description of the Sirius station Cosmo.  It reads, “Love & Sex Show with Dr. Jenn Berman.”  Both frustrated and a little humored by the station I inadvertently called up, I start to push the button a third time when Kelsey pipes in, “I think it called up that station because you are putting too much emphasis on the ‘HO’.”  Hilarious!

I totally love her sense of humor.  It is a smart, clever humor that comes out at unexpected times.  Aron has the same humor.  People tend to say they have my sense of humor but I know just how funny Tim is so I can’t possibly take all the credit.

As I write this on New Year’s Day while I am avoiding preparing for the class I’m teaching in a short couple of weeks, I can’t help but wonder what is in store for the next year.  I’m really looking forward to it which is surprising given my recent funks and bad-itude.  In all honesty, when I think about the coming year, I feel a sense of excitement much like looking at a wrapped gift and wondering what is inside.  I’m looking forward with hope, anticipation, and a sense of gratitude.  God gave me my husband and two incredible kids, all who make me laugh, and so much more!  And, even more so, He gave me the gift of His son so that I can have eternal life.  SYNC may not get what I’m saying when I say, “Call home,” but God certainly does.

Heart Strong

Dec. 24, 2012

Growing up, there were two families very prominent in my life.  The parents of those two families and my parents are all close friends.  Us kids grew up very close.  The Glenn’s lived across the street until I was in 8^th grade and I think I spent as much time at their house as I did my own.  In fact, they are my god-parents.  The Hartman’s lived just a few miles away and we went to church together forever and we went to school, did all the youth group stuff (including Canadian wilderness canoe trips!), and all the other things that close families do together.  The three men are hunting and fishing buddies for about 45-50 years.  These are people that I have ALWAYS known.

Cora Hartman always struck me as a woman with a gentle heart.  Once, I got locked in their bathroom.  The door lock broke and I couldn’t get out.  I don’t remember how long it took to get me out of there, but with my claustrophobia, it was far too long.  In her soft, southern-Texas accent, she comforted me.  On a sleep-over once, I had one of the worst nightmares of my life.  To this day, because of this dream, my closet door has to be closed when I go to bed.  I laid there in bed crying.  Linda was across the room in her bed and I thought, “How’s she sleeping through my crying?”  That strikes me as funny now.  But, Cora had heard me from her room across the house and came and stroked my hair until I calmed down.

As I have written (ad nauseam), most of my life I’ve had a hard time being excited about Christmas.  But, one of the things I was always excited about at Christmas was getting a plate full of cookies from the Hartman’s.  Yumm!  The iced cut-out sugar cookies were my favorite!  They rank right up there with Mom’s peanut butter kisses.  The plate always arrived a few days before Christmas.  Once her daughters went off to college, the cookies stopped.  Cora would say, “My elves are no longer here to help.”  A vital part of Christmas ended just that quickly.

What most don’t know, though, is that I have carried on this tradition in my adult life.  I used to spend a couple solid days making and decorating cookies and giving them to select people at Christmas time.  Admittedly, over the last few years, the number of recipients has declined to just one family.  The busyness of life and a touch of laziness have intruded on the tradition.  There is one family though who absolutely goes bat crazy (and if you knew them you would wonder, “How do you know the difference?”) for my cookies every year.  It’s so fun to actually give them the cookies because they are so silly.

Even more than fun, it is so heartwarming to have that tradition live on, even when Cora herself does not.  Cora had her victory over cancer last Thursday night, the night I baked the cookies.  It’s a total victory because she never lost her faith or her positive attitude.  So many times, she wrote me and encouraged me in response to my blogs.  Cancer beat her body but not her spirit! 

I looked up the etymology of her name.  Cora is from the Greek meaning “Heart; Maiden” and Hartman is German for “Strong.”  Yup, her name literally means heart strong.  God knew her when she was named.  God knew her when he had her marry and take the Hartman name.  She lived life with grace, dignity, spirit, and faith.  God certainly blessed me to know her.  And, He is blessed to have her with Him in heaven.