Several weeks ago our (adult) daughter went on a trip that was far from her usual comfort zone and involved a crazy airplane flight and zip lining.  I was happy she was able to go and knew she would have a good time.  But when the day of her flight arrived I had a brief bout of the what if's...

When our daughter was somewhere around 6th grade (oh, those middle school years...) she anxiously and excitedly packed her bags for her first week long trip away from home to church camp.  I spent the days leading up to the trip letting her know how much fun she would have, reminding her of all the friends she had going with her, telling her the time would go quickly etc.  

The morning she was to depart I dropped her (and the massive amounts of stuff she packed) off at the Pastor's house, prayed they would watch over her and drove away.  That is when the what if's started in.  What if she forgot to pack something important?  What if she got scared? Sick?  Homesick?  Left out?  You get the picture.  I prayed but I also fretted.  I tried to trust but often fell short.

A couple days in, as I wondered how she was doing, they returned.  What if....Wait!  What if?  What if this camp experience is a GOOD thing for her.  What if her faith expands?  What if she makes new friends?  What if she learns to share more of herself?  What if tries new things and likes them?  What if she becomes more independent?  What if...

What if can be so negative.  But it can also be SO positive!     

A week (actually 5 days) later, I picked her up at the same spot where I had dropped her off. She was obviously exhausted but smiling from ear to ear, hugging all her friends and giggling as they continued to relive the memories they had just made.  She was fine.  More than fine.  

She didn't forget to pack anything important but even if she had they all shared.  There were times she was unsure or maybe even scared but she learned to work through it.  She grew in her faith.  She got closer to her church friends.  She made new friends.  Lots of them.  In fact, she made friends that she STILL keeps in contact with.  (Yep, she is a forever friend kind of girl.  A few weeks of Driver's Ed and another batch of we will never forget you friends.  A 3 month temporary job and another lifelong friend made.) 

Camp provided her lots of learning opportunities.  It provided me with the same.  I get that life happens and not everything is going to go smoothly.  Really, I KNOW this.  I am living this.  But it also reminded me not to borrow tomorrow's troubles today.  It reminded me to let go and let God.  It reminded me to trust.  To lean in to the faith that sustains me.  

So, when the what if's tried to seep into my thoughts as she waited for her plane to leave, I remembered camp.  I prayed.  I let go.  Several days later she arrived home safely. They had a good time, she loved the zip lining and came through all the adventures just fine.  It was yet another, "I can do this" learning time for her and, once again, for me.  
    

I consider myself an encourager although it is true that I fail at it often.  But it is in my nature to want to encourage people, to make them feel better, to cheer them on.  Sometimes it's an easy task, other times it takes all I have within me.  If you are a regular reader here you may have noticed a lack of posting recently. When you are busy trying to walk beside someone in the midst of battle you sometimes get wounded too. Those wounds came fast and hard, one and then another and another with no time to catch  my breath, to process, to heal.  

A family member of mine has been going through a 10 year war, the most recent battle of 3 of those years taking us inside a courthouse many times over the past couple months hoping to right an injustice.  We have sat on wooden courthouse benches in the most beautiful settings, amidst the ugly, praying prayers that often contained no words.  Some situations are so overwhelming that only your heart can drum out what you long for God to hear.

If it were up to me I would have stayed on the shore shouting, "You can do this!  Be strong!" and other such sentiments.  But when someone you love asks you to get in the boat with her - you get in the boat.  You put on your life jacket as the waves rise and crash against the boat.  You hold on tight as it sways so hard you feel it tipping over and over again.  And when you are thrown into the sea, you cling to the Rock that is Jesus.  You You trust that somehow, bruised and battered as you are, that God will bring you back to shore again.  You trust that even though the sin of others has caused an outcome we didn't want, could scarcely believe, that God can still bring good from it.  He is still good.








Linking up here:  Three Word Wednesday


  

For me, a special part of the heatwave we have been experiencing here in the Pacific Northwest has been the ability to venture outdoors in the early, cool hours of the morning with a steaming mug of tea to just be still.  






In that stillness the other morning I heard a horse across the road begin to whinny.  After a pause, I heard another across the valley respond back, the solo becoming a duet.  

It started out innocently enough, an e-mail from her and then my reply.  But it was her next message that stopped me in my tracks and eventually opened the flood gates.  It was one line only, "What kinds of things are you working on and how can I pray for you."  

My mind was immediately swirling with how I would reply.  The truth?  I wasn't working on any specific project.  In fact, I was barely blogging.  The truth?  There were some heavy things going on in my extended family and I was working out a new normal.  The truth?  My heart was overwhelmed by her generosity as well.  So what did I do?  I didn't reply. Well, not immediately anyhow.  I thought about it.  I forgot about it.  I thought about it again.  I pondered it over a warm bath.  I threw the idea of not replying at all up to God to see what He might have to say about it.  

Due to last minute preparation of food for a baby shower, that couldn't be done ahead of time, we missed church this past Sunday.  I didn't read a devotional or dwell on a memory verse.  From the minute my feet hit the floor I was off and running.  A few hours later the car was loaded and on my way I flipped on one of the two Christian radio stations programmed among the others in my car.  One song was ending but I wasn't paying close attention anyhow, my thoughts stuck on the details of the shower yet to complete at my daughter's, my beautiful niece expecting twins and the excitement and miracle of it all.

I paused to take in the beauty of the countryside as I drove.  It was a beyond gorgeous Fall afternoon, sun shining against a lovely blue sky, yellows and oranges competing with remaining greens in the trees.  The music ends and the next song begins:  "I made you promises a thousand times.  I tried to hear from Heaven but I talked the whole time."  My heart is captured as I drive and though I am far from any congregation or church dwelling,  church begins.  The song continues to the beat of my softened heart and we hit the chorus:  

It's been a while hasn't it?  I have missed being here and am ready to find my way back. This summer has been one of many outdoor projects for ourselves and our parents as well. It has been good to keep my hands busy.  It provides time for my mind to unwind, my spirit to quiet.

I don't know about you all but my heart has been weary these past few months.  News from afar of kidnapped girls, rockets fired, a murdered journalist and the beloved fleeing to mountaintops.  News a little closer of civil unrest and two grieving families.  Even closer news of depression, suicidal ideation, addiction and families torn.  So much hurt; so much pain.

In the processing of it all I felt a bit overwhelmed, asking hard questions of myself, of God. Wondering what possible difference I could make from where I sat.  

But the thing is, it wasn't about me at all.   My eyes had become out of focus.  You see, it wasn't my job to figure it all out.  It's God's and I was trying to do it for Him.  So in my mind, and in my heart, I prayerfully began to place the seemingly impossible before the God of the possible. For it is only at the foot of the cross that real healing can begin for them, for me.  

Sometimes we are asked to help, to raise awareness, to donate money, even to go.  But this time my job was to be still and know.  Know that I serve a BIG God.  Know that He is moving in ways I may never understand.  Know that He is our unfailing Hope.  Know that He is our (beyond understanding) source of Peace.           

On a warm and breezy evening a couple weeks ago I sat in that stillness outside.  I felt God's love in the warmth of the sun, His touch in the rustle of the bamboo leaves and as the night sky filled with diamond like stars I could hear His whisper:  Those stars?  I made them for you.  I see you.  And those same stars that shine down on you, shine down on the hurting, the hungry, and the lonely everywhere. I see them too.  I hear your prayers and I am grieving for this world in greater ways than you can imagine.  Keep your eyes on me.  Trade your pain for peace.  Give me your weary heart and I will make well your soul.

1. When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
   When sorrows like sea billows roll;
   Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say,
   It is well, it is well with my soul.
   • 
     
     It is well with my soul,
     It is well, it is well with my soul.