Relentless - Part 6: Home

Laney, could hear the steady beep, beep, beep of the machine monitoring her heart. She knew where she was, and what was going on. She was dying, but an amazing peace surrounded her, a living, breathing presence. She thought back to all those years ago, the night Steve walked out on her; the night the Shadowed Ones tried to get her to take her life; the night she met her unborn daughter. That night she had given her heart back to its maker; the King.

Image by OsloMetX from Pixabay

“GG?” A sweet, young voice called her name and she could feel the tender hand on her own. She opened her eyes.

Her youngest great grandchild stood next to her hospital bed. He was only eight, but his faith in the King was as strong and as deep as a mighty tree. She smiled at him.

“Silas.” Her voice came out in a raspy whisper.

“GG? Are you going to see Him? Are you going to see the King?” His eyes were wide with hopeful, childlike anticipation.

Laney managed a nod. “Yes, sweetheart. Yes I am.”

Image by PublicDomainPictures from Pixabay

Laney turned her head and saw the room filled with her family. She could see Steve in every single one of them. The thought made her smile. Steve hadn’t really given up on her, just like the King and His Son, he relentlessly pursued her.

For a long time she carried the guilt of her abortion, and it made seeing Steve even harder, but gradually, time, and the King’s soothing words reminded her she was forgiven. She was made new, and nothing ever captured her attention again, like His love.

Silas squeezed her hand. “GG, when you get there can you tell Gpa I miss him? Can you also say hi to Cocoa, and Nut?”

Laney managed a soft chuckle as she thought about the last two dogs she and Steve had rescued. The grandkids had been a little older than Silas when they adopted a dark brown puppy from a puppy mill, and a fluffy, white, very busy puppy from the Humane Society.

Image by carpenter844 from Pixabay

“Silas, I will tell them, and I’ll tell Myles, Sophie, Frito, and Chip.”

Silas’ brow wrinkled. “Were those your doggies when you were younger?”

“Oh, yes, Silas. Myles and Sophie were the dogs who helped rescue me. Frito and Chip were your dad and Aunt Evi’s dogs as they grew up.”

Steven Jr. stepped forward and put his hands gently on Silas’ shoulders. “Come on, bud. We need to let Gram rest.”

Silas squeezed her hand one more time then let his father lead him a way from the bed. Laney looked at all of the blessings the King had given her. His grace and mercy showed in every single face that stood in that room.

She lifted her hand towards her son. “Steven, come.”

Steven stepped to the bed and put his arm around his mother lifting her so she could see everyone.

“I love every single one of you, and I know you love me. You all know my story, because I never want you to go down the road I did…to run away from the King. No matter what happens in your lives, only He is truly trustworthy, and loves you completely. He alone makes you exactly who you are supposed to be. Always remember.”

Laney leaned back weakly on her son’s arm, and he gently placed her head on the pillow. “Good bye, Mom. We’ll see you again.”

Her daughter, Evi, came over and kissed Laney’s forehead, her tears anointing her mother for her last journey.

Laney closed her eyes.

* * * * * * * * *

When Laney woke, the first thing she felt was warmth. It was as though she was laying on a glorious Mediterranean beach, the sun beaming down on her with a gentle breeze blowing across her skin. She took a breath and realized she could breath without pain, and she could smell. A million different scents blended together filling her with a joy she had never known. She opened her eyes.

Image by Jill Wellington from Pixabay

She found herself in a garden, one that caused all the Better Homes and Gardens winners to look faded and tiny in comparison. She sat up. She was on a blanket, and laid out beside her was a picnic complete with gingham napkins, a wicker basket, and food that looked like nothing she had ever seen before. She felt her stomach growl. What a glorious feeling after years of having no appetite.

“Laney.”

She looked up. There stood Steve, and her daughter Elena. They had decided to name her, after they had gotten back together. Both of them looked radiant. Stepping out from behind them was the King, His Son, and their presence, Arabella. Arabella was luminescent, as though a million stars filled her very being.

The Son came to her and reached out His hand. “Laney, we are so glad you are here. We have been waiting for you.”

Love, all at once a force, a thought, a breath, a place, an entity clothed her as His hand touched hers.

She was home.

Tended Dreams

This is a fiction piece by Amy D. Christensen

So many coffins! Why were there so many coffins?

Image by Lisa Yount from Pixabay

The One who stood beside me looked out over the vast area filled with every manner of death box imaginable. There were pine boxes, reminding me of the Old West, golden sarcophagi, dark cherry wood polished until it shimmered and many, many more. It would take days to count how many coffins filled the valley: literally a valley of dry bones. Here and there I could see beings of light, I assumed were angles, tending to the coffins.

“Who are they,” I asked looking up into his dark eyes.

They were brown, but seemed to be edged with golden light; a light that came from deep within His heart.

He smiled at me, though I could tell there was a deep sadness behind that smile. “Not who, but what?”

“I do not understand.”

Image by Jackson David from Pixabay

He took my hand, squeezing it firmly. It felt as though just a bit of strength tingled from his fingers into mine filling my whole body with warmth. It was as though someone had just draped a warm blanket over my shoulders.

“These coffins hold dreams.”

“Dreams?”

“Come. Let’s walk and I will show you.”

I was afraid. I had always been afraid to be around death. I never liked going to funerals and walking through grave yards was fine during the day when the sky was blue, but when the sun went down and the mists began to creep along the ground, no thank you! I planted my feet firmly.

He turned to look at me. “It will be alright. You are with me, and I would never let anything hurt you. Not any more.”

His eyes took in the depth of my soul. It was then I knew. He knew everything about me and yet, it was completely obvious how much He loved me.

“Come.” He smiled again and I let myself be pulled along.

We moved in among the elongated boxes and I couldn’t help but admire how intricately beautiful some of them were. Many were very simple and completely unadorned, while others had been carved and embellished with decorative swirls and etchings, some of which looked to be letters in various languages.

He stopped before a dark box whose wood was so polished and smooth I could see myself in it.

Image by composita from Pixabay

“This one belongs to a man who took great pride in his work. He built his own business from the ground up. When he met his wife, he knew he wanted to have a family. He wanted many children, hoping that a few of them would one day carry on the family business. His wife died in child birth. He never remarried and eventually sold the business.”

He moved me along to another box a little ways away. This one was much more ornate than the last one. It was covered in beautiful scroll work.

Image by JamesDeMers from Pixabay

“This one belongs to a woman who married young. She had dreams of becoming an archeologist, but her husband said her place was in the home with the children. She had a brood, and when there were no more children to be birthed, her husband left her for a younger woman.”

“How terrible!”

The next coffin he stopped before was smaller. Not the size of a child, but not a full adult either. It was white and decorated with pretty pink and yellow flowers.

Image by S. Hermann & F. Richter from Pixabay

“The girl whose dreams reside here was only 16 when a drunk driver took away her ability to walk. She wanted to be a dancer hoping that sad people would find joy in the movement of music and dance.”

He stretched out his hand and rubbed the top of the pretty box, as if remembering.

I felt my eyes sting with tears. He began to walk again and I pulled my hand from His.

“Why are you showing me these things?”

He did not speak. I could see tears in his own eyes. He held out his hand.

Once again, I placed mine in his and we walked for a while in silence.

The next box we stopped in front of was rather simple and unassuming. In fact as we had walked it occurred to me there were many coffins like this. They weren’t plain and simple like an Old West pine box, nor were they richly adorned. They were, in fact plain and unnoticeable.

“Why are there so many like these?”

He looked out over the valley, turning his head from one side to another. “These are the dreams of mothers for their children; wives for their marriages; grandmothers for their grandchildren. As is so often the case these go unnoticed. Mothers go about their lives, most often never asking for the help they need, the desires that go unmet and the thanks they so deserve. Unlike many, who have one major dream of what they want to do with their lives, mothers, wives and grandmothers often have the most dreams and, as you can tell by these coffins, so very many of them must be laid to rest.”

Image by Richard Mcall from Pixabay

“Well, if that’s the case, why aren’t their coffins more ornate and noticeable? Why are they so plain?”

“Because their desires were simple. They wanted their children to grow up without damage and problems. They wanted their husbands to talk to them. They wanted their families to get along…simple things really, yet so important. Unfortunately, very few take into account the dreams of a mother. They love her and are glad for her, but they rarely get to know the woman that she is underneath all that she does: the writer, the singer, the artist, the leader, the warrior. So very many dreams that had to die.”

“But why?” I was beginning to feel upset. “Why should they have to give up their dreams?”

“Because they knew what was really at stake. They knew that the most important part of life was relationship. They were willing to give up everything else, so that relationships with their children, husbands and grandchildren could continue. You see life is not about the dreams that come true, it is about the relationships that are built, or abandoned, along the way.”

He stepped away from the box. “Come. I have one last thing to show you.”

Again, he took my hand and once again I felt the mild tingle of His strength moving me forward and warming me.

The sight we came to next took my breath away. A sea of tiny, infant sized coffins, each adorned with a small, flickering candle, floated silently on a huge glassy lake. The light on each coffin produced a shimmering reflection in the surrounding water. It was all at once beautiful and horrifying.

Image by Hans Braxmeier from Pixabay

He sensed my discomfort and putting his arm around my shoulders, pulled me close.

“Even a baby has dreams. In the world as you know it, when babies are born they do not have language, but the truth is, all that are conceived have the imprint of heavenly language. It is in this realm that they dream. They dream of small things, but still they are dreams. Smiles, green grass, blue skies, their mother’s face, their father’s laugh, the feeling of human touch, but alas, none of these dear ones ever got to realize their dreams.”

I gasped, as the sea of coffins seemed to go on forever. Tears slipped down my face.

He turned me towards him.

“You have dreams too. I showed you all these things because I want you to know that each and every dream you have is important to me. Each and every dream that you must give up, I will know about and I will tend to. That is how much I love you!”

* * * * * * *

Often, when I write a piece like this, I feel it is God giving me a way to express my own feelings and thoughts, but in the form of a story. An allegory tells a story in the form of imagery. I hope that the picture I painted above shows you, that Jesus loves you with an everlasting love and that every single dream you have achieved, and every single desire you have had to give up, He is aware of and He holds in the palm of His hand. I write, because I need to remember this, and maybe you do too.

You are deeply loved!

Wait! I Didn't Want that to Happen!

What do you do when you are very disappointed? Do you blame God? Do you complain and become discouraged and frustrated? Let's face it, life delivers plenty of disappointments. Relationships fail, those things that we wanted for so long break and get thrown away and we even experience disappointment in ourselves due to our failures and lost hopes. Sometimes life leads us down a path that looks appealing, other times, it leads us to a place we don't want to go.

My husband and I left Thursday evening to begin a ten day journey out east. We were going to spend two nights with my mom near Buffalo, NY and then point our car towards Maine, a state neither of us had been, but both of us were looking forward to exploring. I had already made reservations at hotels and Home Away type accommodations and was anticipating new digs to stay in, new scenery to take pictures of, new places to walk with our new hiking boots and new restaurants featuring local fair like lobster and other seafood delicacies. Little did I know my hope and anticipations were about to be dashed to pieces. 

While we were at my mom's we took her to a nearby park for a walk. At ninety plus she is getting a little unsteady, but she is able to still walk with a helping arm. Here are some pictures from our walk.

Saturday morning we left my mom's house at 8:30 AM and hoped to put the hours and miles behind us as we headed towards Portland, ME. We had only just gotten onto the interstate when the pain that had been plaguing me in my lower abdomen on and off for the last four days suddenly torqued up the intensity. We stopped at the next rest area so I could use the restroom. I seriously thought I was having some sort of digestive anomaly. Two years ago I had been diagnosed with diverticulosis, but had never actually had an issue with diverticulitis. 

By the time I began walking out of the rest area, my husband knew something was wrong. He could see it in the way I walked and by the look on my face. He asked the nearest rest area employee where the closest urgent care would be and we were directed to the hospital at the next exit. 

By the time I was finally checked into the ER and was actually given pain medication at least two hours had passed. After a CT scan I was diagnosed with having a kidney stone. I have never had kidney stones before. I was told I would have to stay in the hospital over night to see if the stone would pass and they put me on a regimen of pain meds, antibiotics and drugs to widen out the ureters to help the stone pass. 

Me looking lovely in the ER!

After a mostly sleepless night at the hospital with my faithful husband in a very uncomfortable recliner by my bed we decided this would not be the year we would go on our adventure to Maine. I write this post at a Barnes and Noble as we travel back to our home in the Mid West after spending another night with my mom. I would have been ruthless to not let my mom see me and know I was okay after all that had happened. It proved most beneficial to have a good nights rest and some food that I could actually eat. I feel much better today!

With our car still full of bags and treats and hiking boots as well as five new prescriptions, we began our trip home feeling rather glum and disappointed that things had not worked out as we had hoped. Now I go back to my original question: How do you deal with disappointment? In all honesty I only know of one way. 

Thankfulness! 

Yes! You heard me! Thankfulness.

Here is my list:

1. My husband was with me through all of it. He did not waver. He did not get upset. He was just genuinely glad that I just had a kidney stone (he's had one of his own) and not having surgery for a colostomy or finding out I had cancer. 

2. The hospital staff was great. Every nurse was kind, informative and professional. They answered our questions, let us know what they were going to do with clarity and a smile and always asked if we needed anything. Even the aides who had to empty out my little pee pot to check for stones were friendly and helpful. 

3. We were right near a hospital. I didn't have to drive for several hours to get to a competent place of care. In fact the hospital is in the same city where my brother works. He even stopped by to check on me while I was in the ER.

4. I only had to spend one night! Hooray.

5. By this morning, I was no longer in any pain, and no longer felt like I wanted to hurl every time I thought of food. 

6. Our drive home has been relaxing and enjoyable. 

These are only a few of the thing that I can thank God for during this disappointing time. Disappointments, as I have talked about before, can push us away from God, or draw us closer. I would definitely choose to draw closer every time. 

“in everything give thanks; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.”

— I Thessalonians 5:18

Pictures, Planning and Prophets

I suppose you are familiar with disappointment! Who isn't? If you know someone who has never felt the let down of being disappointed please tell me how they do it. Being a blogger, I have two goals, to write and to talk about fashion. In order to talk about fashion I have to post pictures. Many bloggers take their own pictures or have their spouses take pictures. I just got a new camera and have only just begun playing around with it. Until, I become proficient I still depend on my eldest to take pictures for my fashion posts. Usually, this means an all day shoot, trying to cover as many weeks of outfits as we can.

Today was our designated shoot day. I spent the last few weeks putting outfits together following a color theme that details the Pantone Fall 2016 color choices. I do this, not because I am so trendy, but because it gives me a spring board from which to put together an outfit. This had been a difficult task. Unlike the Spring 2016 color palette, the colors for fall are not the norm. Instead of yellow, it's Spicy Mustard; instead of green, it's Lush Meadow. The colors are just different enough to make matching them, at least some of them, challenging.

Since my daughter is married, I invited her and our son-in-law over for lunch, along with my other daughter, who does my make up for the shoots and our grandson. I made bacon and tomato sandwiches and corn for our lunch. The house filled with the scent of cooking bacon and the stove was covered in spattered grease. I enjoy having my whole family together, so our lunch lingered. When we were finished my youngest began her make up application, which takes about 20 to 30 minutes. After that, I ran upstairs and changed into the first of 11 outfits. Yes, that's right, 11. 

Here I am looking at the storm clouds blowing in. Photo credit Rebecca Trumbull. Make up Rachel Christensen.

The sky had grown overcast, but the rumbling thunder made it obvious something was happening. We ran outside for a few pictures of the first outfit and just got back inside when the rain began. Our photo shoot was ruined! The forecast confirmed the possibility of storms were going to threaten until evening. After which the light would no longer be suitable for outdoor pictures. My plans failed. 

The book of Proverbs in the Old Testament has a number of verses that pertain to plans.

“The mind of man plans his way, But the Lord directs his steps.”

— Proverbs 16:9 (NASB)

“Many plans are in a man’s heart, But the counsel of the Lord will stand.”

— Proverbs 19:21 (NASB)

Some of us are planners. My eldest, in true first born form, loves to plan, or at times feels that she is the only one that has the planning "gene". My husband on the other hand says, "Planning is a good way to make sure a particular thing doesn't happen." I'm not exactly sure at this point in my life, where I fall on this scale of extremes. I think I used to be more of a planner. I homeschooled, so planning was essential to getting my daughters through each grade. However, there were mornings where I would tell them, "Free time! Go play with your Barbies! We'll start school after lunch." 

As I've gotten older, I have a harder time wrapping my mind around planning. I mean, I still try to plan out the outfits for my blog posts and occasionally plan meals, but I don't spend vast amounts of time planning. In fact, in true Stephen King and Jerry Jenkins form, I am a panster as a writer, meaning, I write by the seat of my pants. 

The beauty of not being a planner is flexibility. The rub of not being a planner is never getting anything done! It drives my daughter crazy when there is an event coming up and no one has planned anything. My husband on the other hand would like the world to leave him alone and take their plans and put them up their proverbial bums.

The problem with planning comes when plans fall through. My plans to get a photo shoot done for my blog were not evil. They were good plans. My daughters and I both had the time to devote to the shoot, and my son-in-law, husband and grandson were fine with hanging out and having food together. The problem happens when I react to my plans failing. We tend to think that my plans and my life are the only things that matter in this world. But as the first verse above says, it is the Lord who directs our steps. We can think all we want that these are "my" plans, that this is "my" life, but only the Almighty has it all figured out.

The book of Jeremiah is all about calamity and restoration. God's chosen people were on again, off again. God spoke these words to the prophet Jeremiah,

“‘Arise and go down to the potter’s house, and there I will announce My words to you.’ Then I went down to the potter’s house, and there he was, making something on the wheel. But the vessel that he was making of clay was spoiled in the hand of the potter; so he remade it into another vessel, as it pleased the potter to make.

Then the word of the Lord came to me saying, ‘Can I not, O house of Israel, deal with you as this potter does?’ declares the Lord. ‘Behold, like the clay in the potter’s hand, so are you in My hand, O house of Israel.’”

— Jeremiah 18:2-6 (NASB)

Pixabay

There are times where plans go awry. Things don't work out as we would like, or things happen that we feel totally unprepared for or that we feel are completely unfair. How do you tell a mother who is watching her child die of cancer that life is fair or that everything will be okay. What if it isn't?

I am trying to live life with my hands loosely holding onto the plans and the people I cherish most. I realize at any time, those plans could fall apart or those people could suddenly not be there. You might ask me, "How do you do that?" My reply would be "I don't."

“For I know the plans that I have for you,’ declares the Lord, ‘plans for welfare and not for calamity to give you a future and a hope.”

— Jeremiah 29:11 (NASB)

Only God knows about planning. He is the Master. He created us from dust and to dust we will return. I feel compelled to trust Him, not only with my plans, but with the people that are part of my plans. I will continue to try to live with my hands open for Him to put in or take out,  to plan His plans.

Pixabay

Let Go!

What do we do when our faith is rattled? When something happens that shakes us to the core? When life just doesn't change for the better? When the small rock slide turns into an earth shaking avalanche?

Let go!

Usually we think hanging on would be better; hanging on means we still have some control, but we don't. Hanging on implies it has to get better, but it might not. Hanging on inevitably leaves me with sore hands and bleeding fingers.

Let go!

Photo credit Ashley Knedler on StockSnap.

I know what you are thinking. I have been on the edge of that precipice looking down. I have clung with everything in me to that thing that was keeping me from falling to my death; that belief, that person, that job, that.......

Let go!

How does a baby bird learn to fly? He's literally pushed out of the nest. Perhaps he saw how far down the ground was and thought he wasn't ready. Maybe he liked the nest; it's cozy and he's getting free meals. But no! Mom knew when he was ready. Catch that? Mom knew. He didn't. One, two, three...shove!

Let go!

So, here you are. Free fall! Funny thing, you don't have a parachute. But God gave you wings. Spread them. His Spirit will buoy you up. He created the wind to lift you higher. Trust Him. He knew you were ready. Catch that? He knew. You didn't. One, two, three....shove!

Let go!

“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.”

— Romans 8:28 (NASB)

We really need to pay attention to the words in that verse. Let's dissect it a bit.

"And we know..." We know....knowledge is important.  Knowing something means I am familiar with it. In this case is is God.

"...that God..." Our knowledge is of God. We know Him. We know His ways.

"...causes all things...." Just how can God orchestrate all things? Well, He is God after all. He created the world. He wrote the music. He can conduct the orchestra.

"...to work together for good...." I am sure that means the bad stuff too.

"...to those who love God..." Do you? Do you love Him? Do you even know who He is? Do you acknowledge His existence, or do you think it is all smoke and mirrors?

"...to those who are called according to His purpose." It may sound egocentric, but God is all about God. Our purpose has to do with bringing glory to Him. 

Photo credit Amber Wolfe on StockSnap.

Let's go back to that bird. The bird, typically, is a mirror image of it's parent. A cardinal looks like a cardinal. A bald eagle looks like a bald eagle. You know what they are the minute you see them, because even if you aren't a bird person, you know what a cardinal and a bald eagle are. So we are to be mirror images of Christ. We don't look like Him, the moment we are born again, but gradually over time we can grow to look more like Him. God in His goodness and great love for you has pushed you out of the nest. No, it is not comfortable, but it is necessary for you to become an adult bird.

Let go!