Sink or Swim ? or Paddle and Pray?

The water is beyond cold and the waves are ridiculously high with violent storms making the normally well-loved sea a frightening place to be. It is particularly difficult to love the ocean when your life boat is filling with water and all you can hear are cries of friends as they try to bail their own water out, patch their own holes.

We are all trying to escape from the mighty suction action that soon will take place as our normally grand ship bellows and heaves it's mighty self deep into the sea. How do we help each other? What does it matter that we love each other passionately and want to be self sacrificing? How can we hear the cries of our best friends when our own cries drown out the sounds because of the loudness of our own? We are all going down!

It was such a short time ago that we laughed and danced and ate on fine china, crystal glasses clinking as we toasted the good life. The sun shone brightly,our children played hop scotch on the upper deck as we bathed in the spotlight of frivolity and fun. Some of our group were more daring than others, jumping into the deep waters of the pools, drinking of the exotic beverages offered, enjoying even the silliness of life for a short time with no work nor cares to worry about. We were friends, we stuck together, and we were on a great trip. All was good, we had pretty much figured life out, we stayed connected and traveled in sync with each other.

Who knew the Titanic could sink?

Who could predict an iceberg was lying in wait, barely scratching the surface of the waters ahead, and upon closer inspection hiding a monstrously multi-faceted chunk of destruction deep below?
Shouldn't we have suspected something bigger lay in the days ahead as we sailed the spacious seas of life? An occasional shark,a passing whale, a storm with waves slapping the sides of the ship - nothing prepared us for the constant battering of the Storm that matched any Hurricane that had ever been documented.

We wanted to count on each other for help, but it was impossible- it became every man for himself! Paddle hard , pray harder, or perish.

My story has a Hope filled ending. The end is not here, however.

This is a story of a modern day Pilgrim progressing on her journey. The boat I sail in is battered, but I am definitely in the lifeboat and not the ship I started out on. I am bailing, praying, looking to the skies for a sign of the rainbow as the rain pounds down.
The waves smash on and the boats I see around me are filled with friends battling sharks and sunburn, dehydration and exhaustion. All of us can occasionally see each other and wave, but sometimes even a wave takes too much energy. Certainly there are no opportunities for helping each other, the battle is too strong just to survive. The storm is relentless . Often I get a great night's rest, I pass a boat that shares some tasty morsel of food, and from time to time the shore is sighted. Ah, a quick glimpse of the shore gives such Hope! especially when we see a friend arrive, waving vigorously as an encouragement.

I surrounded myself with good, strong friendships throughout my adult life, and still do consider myself blessed with a great group of friends. We supported each other, exchanged babysitting, recipes, and parenting tips. We laughed together and cried together and supported each other through crisis after crisis, all the while reminding each other of the love and Sovereignty of the God of the seas.

These same friends and others cannot save me. They cannot always fix my troubles nor listen to my sea stories. They can and do pray as they paddle, but I need Someone to paddle with me, to keep me safe and focused.

I find myself very thankful lately that I know One Who helps me and I now Him personally. I do not need my friends in my boat with me as I once imagined.

I just need Jesus. 

He steers  the boat, bails it out, patches the holes, fights off the sharks, gives me water to prevent dehydration, shields me from the hot sun, and keeps me company~ all the while encouraging me to keep paddling.

 I love Him.

The Right to Life Discussion continues

Last Sunday was Right to Life Sunday, or Pro-Life Sunday , or Let's remember Roe V Wade Sunday, depending on your pleasure of names.

January 22, 1973: I was just pregnant with our baby firstborn son Paul, conceiving him in love with my precious and much loved husband David.
This was the date that the Supreme Court said that a woman could end a pregnancy anytime she wanted to.

 It was shocking to me, as a young mom-to-be, that women would want to end, terminate, or discard, what I considered to be a huge gift from God, a blessing that was unspeakably joyous. I theoretically understood there might be mixed feelings about pregnancy if there had been a rape, or incest, or financial woes, but theory did not dictate actions and my underlying thoughts were solidly based on God's creation in the womb of a little person that He desired to be here.

Fast Forward: Forty years later, I have been gifted by God with 5 live births, 1 spontaneous abortion [aka miscarriage], and 3 adopted children, one of whom died at 9 months of age on February 1, 1984. I have fostered 5 babies as their mothers decided whether to keep them or give them to another family to raise; I have almost adopted a boy from Brasil, and been disappointed numerous times that my heart and circumstances did not match the availability of a child.

Who am I , that has such a strong feeling of the nurturing need for caring for children, dominating my heart and mind, even today? Our church supports Happy Children's Home in Kenya, Africa, and every time I see those sweet children I long to adopt them! It is not difficult for me to love children, as evidenced by my real affection for my little people at school who are current recipients of my love.

I have some friends who adopted 3 sisters from Russia, and I am privileged to be their adopted Grammy. These girls know I have chosen to love them , in spite of no biological , rational reason to do so. I celebrate them as little persons of great importance in the eyes of God, and love being included in their birthdays and special days.

I was reflecting on Sunday over the arguments I have heard regarding abortions rights, the woman's right to choose actions over her own body. I am astounded still at the very thought that this is a woman's private choice! Recently there was a television program and they had an intervention for a woman taking drugs. She was not being allowed to harm her body by using drugs and family all surrounded her and insisted she get help and support. Think about it.

Imagine if we had interventions for women who found themselves pregnant and needing to face the scary thought of raising an unwanted child? Imagine if we offered to adopt that child, buy the diapers and help the new mom learn to parent? Imagine if we cared more for the baby than the politics involved? Imagine how many lives would be made happier by those little sweet babies people think they have no time for? Imagine.

I am not a super woman, I am just me. We can make a difference in lives if we just keep stretching. Stretching is uncomfortable, and scary, not always attractive. Stretching might mean adopting rather than going on vacations to exotic places...uncomfortable. Adopting might mean 2 children share a bedroom and learn to share the parents...unusual. Adopting may mean leaving behind the notions of biological supremacy...and entering cultural diversity up close and personal....scary.

In a Facebook note this morning, my friend spoke of the pain and confusion following a child's leaving her home, one whom she thought would be staying.  I felt the pain with her, I heard the heart cries of her heart, and I prayed for God's comfort as she grieves the loss. But I will always be convinced that her loving this child, for this moment in time, was part of God's Divine Design. Since He is a personal, loving God, He accomplished His purposes and she was part of the plan.

These are the thoughts that are circulating in my head today, as my grown children are all living their lives, raising their children, thinking their thoughts that differ from mine. Was it worth it? Not having fancy exotic vacations?

 I am honestly able to say that through the pain(oh there has been so much pain!), and through the years, I would not have changed one single action. Or perhaps I would have.... ....adopting a child as an older, single mother. :-)   Do I dare?

My Annual Review

Having a bad memory is not fun. You would think that I would get used to it, but actually it annoys me even more today than it did yesterday. Or, more accurately, it annoys me more this year than last year. I cannot even recall 2011, and yet something important must have happened! Life is full of blessings and burdens, good times and crummy times, joy and sorrow, laughter and sobbing.


I write a Christmas Newsletter for the explicit purpose of making myself review what God has done for me, sometimes even through me, and often in spite of me. He is a good God, needs nothing to exist and yet chose to love a people for Himself, and gain glory for Himself by giving them dates and times and calendar years to keep track of it all.

One of my favorite gifts this year combined my need for keeping track of time with my love of pictures, and my adoration of the blessing of my grands. It was a picture filled 2013 calendar and it is extra special as I know how much work went into making it! God ultimately blesses me by giving me this luxury of time tracking, yet He didn't need to. He is apart from time, timeless, if you will, and remembers all of us, each tear and guffaw of laughter uttered from our individual lips., and should He need a date, He could recall it instantly. I love that God is bigger than I can think or imagine! I love that some days He lets me think and ponder and wonder at His majesty, and He still remains more. More than I can imagine, better than I can dream, more Sovereign and special than my heart can propose or suppose.

This last summer, in the delightful month of June, when my 12th grandson was born~ I was called to immediately fly from Tennessee, where I was leisurely celebrating my sister's New Home purchase and end of chemotherapy and joy of remission, to step onto an airplane.
I hate flying. I not only hate flying, but I am terrified of flying. I am not only terrified of flying, I have a phobia, irrational and especially incapacitating when I am given the option of thinking about airplanes. I even avoid airports and when a plane flies overhead I am known to duck , or look anywhere but up. Yup, full blown terror.

The reason I was called to do such an act of bravery, was because of the birth of my new grandson Theodore. He was, as anyone having read my Christmas letter knows,  born and overcame a terrific birth scare in part because of God's gracious disposing of grace toward him(and us). The brain therapy cooling cap used was a modern day miraculous device, and a truly amazing piece of research development and technology!

Back to my flight. Booked within an hour, paid for by Theodore's gracious great grandmother, transported to the airport by my New Home owning celebratory cancer- free sister.  Some would call this exciting and wonderful, the chance to arrive within hours when previously scheduled to drive for days. I called it Horrific. I was terrified beyond belief. Imagine, my newborn grandson at death's door, literally having just arrived on earth, and me convinced that this  airplane was my ticket to eternity at every bump, jostle and jolt?

Remembering quite clearly now: me begging God for calm, asking Him for peace, pleading with Him for mercy, reminding Him how much we needed this baby boy to live? assuring Him I trusted His choices and decisions. Forcing myself to chant "Susan, you choose here either FEAR or FAITH. There is and was and never will be an 'in between'." I chose faith. Not because of a guaranteed results, either with the flight or with the baby, but because of the Pilot Physician I was talking to. God. Jehovah Jirah. Redeeming Savior. Wonderful Counselor . Prince of Peace. Comforter. I Am. The One Who made me and sustained me through so many places already on my life journey. I chose to trust Him again on June 22, 2012 in the skies about 30,000 feet from the ground.

My annual review is what I call this post. I sometimes get scared on New Year's Day as I anticipate what might lie ahead. Reviewing the past year is my way of remembering the one thing I DO remember: God is with me. God loves me. God will walk with me no matter where this journey takes me in 2013. It is as easy as it is difficult. FAITH.

Welcome 2013.