An Unexpected Gift

“Those we love are with the Lord, and the Lord promised to be with us.  If they are with Him, and He is with us, they cannot be very far away.”  ~Peter Marshall

Christmas is always a busy time of year for most.  A couple of years after we began the Toy Drive, my dad called one afternoon with a question…”Would it be okay if Waldecker sent a vehicle to help you deliver the toys?”  Waldecker was where my dad worked.  They are located in Brighton, not too far from us.  The wonderful thing was that year we were actually shorthanded on those able to help deliver.  The timing was perfect, and later that week, two men from Waldecker came with a van which we filled and off they went to deliver.  The following year, my dad came with a large vehicle and we filled it to the brim with toys that he went to deliver.  From that point on, he often made our trips to the Flint area whether with toys, Easter baskets or food.  My dad was such a kind, loving and giving man…

On the Monday before Christmas, my sister, Robin, her husband, Leo, his brother Luke, and my mom gathered again in my kitchen to decorate cupcakes.  After they left, I suggested to Mark that we visit them on Thursday of that week.  We hadn’t been up to their house in a while, so I called and they were happy to have us come up.  Later, when I talked to my mom again, I told my mom that I wanted to stop by the cemetery on the way up.  I hadn’t been able to get up there, and to be honest, I hadn’t even thought of it, with all of our activities and deliveries.  Mom said she wanted to go too so we agreed to talk on Thursday morning after she got out of work…that most likely we would meet her there on her way home.

As Thursday morning came and went without hearing from my mom, we decided to load the car and head to Brighton before heading up north.  There was a couple of things I wanted to get.  I called my mom on the way, and we agreed to meet after I finished my last-minute shopping.  As I sat in the passenger seat and stared out the window, my thoughts returned to my dad’s passing.  They had been with me strongly throughout the week.

You see, earlier in the week, I decided since we were ahead on so many things that I would catch up our 2011 photo album.  I had started this Project Life documenting (can’t recommend it enough–here is the link:Becky Higgin’s Products) and I knew, even though I was behind on getting the pictures printed and put in the book, I had maintained photographing throughout the year.  How I really wanted to start 2012 with the 2011 pictures physically in their album!

Actually that was why we were heading to Brighton.  After printing a bunch of pictures, I realized that the photos of my dad’s passing and his funeral needed their own special album.  I had so many, too many for our yearly album, and enough to make up a special one.  While I pondered this looking out the window of the car, I was struck with a sudden thought…dad’s headstone…had it come yet?  The thought was filled with regret that I hadn’t even thought of it until that very moment…my heart sank though I tried to reassure myself that dad would have understood.

It took longer than I thought in Brighton and around 1:45pm, I called my mom to tell her we were finally on our way.  It worked out well, in a way, for Robin was getting off of work and could meet us there too.  I reminded my mom to bring my dad’s walker for she wanted to stay and sit for a while–something she had said she wanted to do; to not hurry off.  I tried hard not to let the catch in my voice reflect over the phone as I gently urged her to remember.

We pulled into the cemetery ahead of the others and stopped by the visitor center.  Everything was so gray…once again.  It seems that it is usually gray at the cemetery.  I stepped out of the car to take a few pictures.  Even with the cloudy skies, the area is still beautiful…I’ll say even peaceful.  Robin pulled in and we drove over to meet her near my dad’s gravesite.  We could see workers in the area and noticed that they had started another area of graves to the right of where my dad is buried.  My mom pulled in shortly thereafter, and we walked towards my dad’s grave.  They had orange strings everywhere…and we weren’t sure what it was all for.

His grave site is at the top of a small hill and backs up to an area that is lined with American flags.  We later learned that our dad is buried in the last row that backs up to a beautiful field. There will be no more graves behind him.  The workers told us that on any given morning there are usually 30 to 35 deer grazing in the area…something we all knew our dad would have loved.

When we reached the site, we actually walked by it at first.  As we came back trying to find it, we saw his marker moved and a hole dug.  At first, it seemed heart wrenching.  My mom was sorely disappointed.  For the past several months, it has seemed that neither her nor my father could catch an easy break.  First, my dad’s painful passing.  The cold, gray day of his funeral.  The cemetery has removed the few things my mom has placed by the grave, even though they have been approved.  And now this.  We noticed that the workers were down the way from us working on another set of graves.  Not knowing what to do, we stood there for a few moments.  Remember, my mom didn’t want to be in a hurry.  Little did we know…

As we were discussing all the possibilities of what was going on, the workers quietly approached dad’s grave.  We explained that we were his family and were just visiting, afraid that they might tell us that we needed to leave while they were working on that section.  As they looked into the hole, they asked if we were there for the setting of his headstone.  We shook our heads “no”, in a bit of shock that they might be placing gravestones on that very day…could it really be?  Then this one very nice man asked if we would like to see dad’s gravestone placed?  As we nodded our heads, he said, “Let me place a call.”  They stepped away for a few moments, and then returned to work on the hole in the ground.  They let the kids look in and took the time to answer our questions as he continued to level out the ground.  The other man went for a bucket of gravel and they set the bottom so that they could perfectly align dad’s headstone.

What kind of questions do you ask while waiting?  Do you do this all year?  Yes, they do and sometimes they have to use a jack hammer to break through the ground.  How much does it weigh as it looks very heavy?  240 pounds, more than my dad when he passed.  Where was it made?  How ironic, Minnesota.  That’s where our dad was treated for his cancer, and where we spent a lot of our time in the last 16 months.  They used lines to bring everything into perfect square, and they come back again each spring to readjust any that move out of place with the frost coming out of the ground.  The kindness of these men was remarkable.

“Quiet and sincere sympathy is often the most welcome and efficient consolation to the afflicted.  Said a wise man to one in deep sorrow, ‘I did not come to comfort you; God only can do that, but I did come to say how deeply and tenderly, I feel for you in your affliction.'”  ~Tyron Edwards

Before we knew it, a little John Deere vehicle pulled up with what appeared to be a headstone in the back of it.  Two men hopped out and hoisted it out of the truck.  The cart that they would have used to bring it to the gravesite had a flat tire so these two men had to carry this heavy stone all the way up that hill.

I hurried to get a better shot as I saw them coming up the hill.  I was switching between my I-phone so I could send out pictures to those who are on our picture list and my regular camera for documenting.  As I put my eye to the camera, this shot took my breath away…it made it all too real…once again.  While in one moment, I was rejoicing to actually be present knowing that it was a gift from heaven, my heart tore at the thought of seeing his name etched permanently in marble…so beautiful, and yet so painful…

The gentleman who was already there finished emptying out some of the water so that they could set it.

The workers walked it closer and slowly lowered it in the hole.  The gentleman in the pink seemed especially sensitive to us as a family and the hard time it was.

Danika, Kaitlyn and Josh were present and had front row seats to this process.  Robin, Mark, my mom and I stood in the background.  They were so good with the kids, with all of us.

And there it was…in the hole…in its final resting place.  We all realized what a gift we had been given.      The timing wasn’t lost on us.  There are no coincidences, no easily explainable intersection of events.  Everything was far too random for that on this Thursday afternoon.  The night that the last cupcakes had been picked up, a lady said to us, “You are doing the right thing…continuing to do good for others despite the pain of your grief.  It will help you heal.” 

As I stood there watching them place so carefully the last pieces of sod around dad’s headstone, I knew for me, it was a gift from heaven, maybe even from my dad.  I could almost see the twinkle in his eye, the smile on his face that he used to have when he was excited to give you something that he couldn’t wait for you to see, and genuine warmth of his love and acceptance.  I was gently reminded than that dad would never have wanted us to stop collecting toys, baking cupcakes, delivering gifts…helping others…that wasn’t him or how he did things.  He always kept moving…forward.  He was always trying to do good for others, even when times were difficult.  To me, it was as if God waited patiently and then gave us this amazing Christmas gift that we really needed…in His asbolutely perfect and gracious timing.

To add to the kindness, the gentleman in pink saw me taking pictures, tried to wipe off the remaining mud, lowered the lines, and told us quietly and ever so gently how sorry they all were for our loss.  Then they moved away to leave us in the gravity of the moment.  It made me pause to wonder how many of God’s angels and servants wander in our presence without us even fully knowing…thank You God for Your love and faithfulness to our dad, our family and to each of us.

“Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.”  ~1 Corinthians 1:3

How it feels for many this Christmas…

I read this article today and thought I would share. The link is down below.  It represents well what we saw over the weekend as Mark, Josh and I went to Hope United Methodist Church to help with their Christmas outreach.  The numbers of those in need doubled from 200 families to over 350 since last year.

Pam, the missions chair and dear friend, asked me to help pray with those who were willing.  What I heard from so many was the need for a job.  Many of them had been employed, but with the economic downtown, they had lost their job and their worlds were turned upside down.  One woman with four children was desperate for a job, and her landlord was allowing her to stay rent-free while his rental property is beginning to go into foreclosure.  She was literally praying for and receiving a dollar from here and there to survive on. The men…oh, the men…to be without a job, to not be able to provide in the way that society deems worthy…they were so broken in spirit.

What startled me the most was the drastic increase in the number of those battling serious illness.  We’ve seen a few in the past, but this time there were so many battling cancer.  Ovarian, breast, prostate, and oh, so many others.  All this did was to solidify what we learned at the craft shows for my dad’s jewelry…it is unbelievable the number of younger and relatively healthy people being brought to their knees in weeks…all too often to be gone before anyone had a chance to breathe.  For the first time, I saw men and women donning the surgical masks illustrating all too clearly how sick they were.  Yet, their need for food brought them out.

The hallway was overwhelmed with people, in part because it was too small to hold all that came, but also because many heard of what Hope was doing and decided to wait in hopes that maybe there would be a box left over for them.  There were small children clinging to their parents; teens looking angry and bewildered (yet, sometimes their faces would soften when they heard voices that were encouraging, non-judgmental and warm); and so many who struggled to hold your eyes as a look of shame crossed over their faces.  At times, it was hard to not be overwhelmed by their pain and fear, but they are His…He loves them as much as He loves any one of us.  And they so needed to know His love through our love, kindness and smiles…

“For God does not show favoritism.”  ~Romans 2:11

What I hear from others, sometimes, is the temptation to blame others for their circumstances.  In court, you’ll often find the victim being questioned as if they were at fault for what the accused has done.  Occasionally I even hear it in this line of work, without the person speaking really knowing the facts of an individual’s case (generalizations are the best in making something seem valid)…”well, if they would work at McDonald’s”…let me tell you that the vast majority would be willing to take whatever job they can find.  Even as I stood in Target today, the cashier talked about how Target had hired a bunch of workers so that they could take them all down to 15 hours…no benefits and guess what, small paychecks.  It is not so easy, folks…  And for those who make the argument against those who are making bad, or not so good, decisions…beautifully, this weekend many of those who were struggling with their own choices, willingly confessed that to this prayer team asking for prayers to help them live better, more holy lives.  They, too, want change…

“Do not pervert justice; do not show partiality to the poor or favoritism to the great, but judge your neighbor fairly.”  ~Leviticus 19:15

As I prayed, I found that they all needed to hear that they are special; not in a superficial quick string of words, but with the Holy Spirit’s tender direction and reach. They needed to hear that they have been designed by God with a purpose and a gift not just to benefit them, but to help others.  Time and time again, under their breath, I heard them thank God and rejoice in that reminder.  They needed prayer reassuring them that even if financial prosperity doesn’t return to them in 2012, God is still here, He won’t forsake them, and He is making ways ahead of them for their needs.  They spanned all ages.  I talked with small children from as young as 4 to grown-ups who appeared to be in their 90’s.  Couples came in together holding onto each other with their eyes as well as their hands, families–often with only one parent, and many, many single men and women joined together to pray with us even though they did not know one another.

So as we make our final preparations this Christmas week, please remember the blessings you have truly been given.  And remember that we are in the midst of a “Great Recession” that is impacting way more people than you realize.  You don’t have to go across the world to the fields of another country; just look in your own backyard.  The stories in this article tell it all too well, and even better than I can.  I hope you’ll take a moment to read their stories and remember them all in your prayers…for it is just not here in the metro-Detroit area, but all over the cities and fields of this great land.

Stories that need to be heard…please click to read

“The Peter began to speak: ‘I now realize how true it is that God does not show favoritism but accepts men from every nation who fear Him and do what is right.'”  ~Acts 10:34-35

A sweet story…

Here is a beautiful story of kindness, Christmas spirit, goodwill, love and devotion…especially when you see that this Santa had every reason to take time off this holiday.  So many opportunities, and so much need…you can find them right here in your hometown, if you are willing to see.  May your heart rejoice at how beautiful this world can be at Christmas time and may God fill this Santa with joyful peace as her heart begins to heal.

The kindness of one, of many…

“I will send My messenger ahead of you…”  Mark 1:2

Mercy Me’s “I heard the bells on Christmas Day”

“Suddenly a great company of heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying,

‘Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men on whom His favor rests.'”  ~Luke 2:13-14

This is one of my all-time favorite Christmas songs!  I am not sure why the song hits such a tender spot in my heart.  Maybe it is that longing for God’s peace in this world when sometimes it seems so hard to find.  It could be the line “God is not dead nor does He sleep” that makes me want to smile and sing it to all.  Or maybe, just maybe, it is the moments where I find God’s grace touching my very soul in a way that causes me to “hear” and feel a peace I cannot describe.  I am not fully sure, but I do know that I love it and wanted to share it.  All you have to do is have your sound on and click the arrow in the middle of the video screen.  I hope you enjoy!

“And He will be their peace.”  ~Micah 5:5

“I have told you these things, so that in Me you may have peace.  In this world you will have trouble.  But take heart!  I have overcome the world.”  ~John 16:33

Christmas Sweet Treat Collection 2011

“We have different gifts, according to the grace given us.”  ~Romans 12:6

“If a man’s gift is prophesying, let him use it in proportion to his faith.  If it is serving, let him serve; if it is teaching let him teach; if it is encouraging, let him encourage; if it is contributing to the needs of others, let him give generously; if it is leadership, let him govern diligently; if it is showing mercy, let him do it cheerfully.  Love must be sincere.”  ~Romans 12:6

Thanks to all who diligently baked, got in a cold car and dropped off these goodies!Thanks especially to my gifted sister, Robin, her husband, Leo, and the rest of our family for using their time and gifts to love, serve and benefit others who are so in need of feeling special and loved this Christmas season!!

Mary and I are off to deliver two carloads worth of toys, baked goods and clothing to Brown’s Ministries, a Christian mission, in the Cass Corridor who faithfully serves the low-income families and street people of Detroit.  More pictures likely to come…

“The best of all gifts around any Christmas tree: the presence of a happy family all wrapped up in each other.”  ~Burton Hills

One of my favorites from last Christmas

“Our hearts grow tender with childhood memories and love of kindred, and we are better throughout the year for having, in spirit, become a child again at Christmas-time.”  ~Laura Ingalls Wilder

I am so glad I stepped outside with my camera to try and capture the excitement of the first snow fall of the season for 2010.  This is one of my favorites of Josh 🙂  I love the snowflakes, the greenness of his coat against the snowy white background, and just the brilliance of the white.  I hope you get a chance to capture the first major snowfall, whenever it comes this year…

“Winter came down to our home one night quietly pirouetting in on silvery-toed slippers of snow and we were children once again.”  ~Bill Morgan Jr.

Greetings Grief

“Grief is a process of awareness, of making real inside the self an event that already occurred in reality outside.”  ~Parkes and Weiss

Last year, I started a new project called the December Daily.  It documents the 25 days to Christmas.  Mark had bought me a new camera for Mother’s Day of 2010 and I wanted to learn more about photography.  I had taken an on-line course that inspired me with daily prompts and photo tips.  I had also (still am) been following a blog by Ali Edwards, which is about creating and story-telling with her photos (check her out here:Ali Edwards website). I absolutely loved how the book turned out!

Inspired by that joy and a renewed desire to document our life, I began a year-long project called Project Life by Becky Higgins (see her website here: Becky Higgins’ Project Life).  By early June, I fell behind in actually getting the photos printed and into the book, but I tried to stay true to documenting our every day life–trying to take pictures every week of what was going on.  For those who had been following my dad’s battle with cancer, these projects are what motivated me to take as many pictures, both happy and painful, of my dad and our last moments with him.  It is also what made me realize that sharing those photos would bring him closer to you.

My dad passed away on October 14th…and while I tried to stay true to photographing our life, by mid-November, I found myself no longer wanting to document anything.  My cameras became quiet.  I took a few pictures but not with the same eye, not with the same heart.  Around the same time, my grandmother–my dad’s mom–broke her hip and in a late evening phone call, an aunt asked me how we were all doing.  She shared with me that it wasn’t until six weeks after her mom passed that she was truly overcome by grief.  Later, I wondered, as I fell asleep, if that might be true for myself…had my grief really arrived?

“The risk of love is loss, and the price of loss is grief–But the pain of grief is only a shadow when compared with the pain of never risking love.”  ~Hilary Stanton Bruin

You see, I am really sad and have had lots of moments of tears and missing my dad, but often things feel like they are returning to normal.  Our routine is slowly falling back in line.  Thanksgiving and Christmas are marching forward.  Toys are being dropped off, sorting is taking place, and time is steadily, sometimes quickly, moving forward.

“The cure for grief is motion.”  ~Elbert Hubbard

It wasn’t until yesterday that I fully realized that grief had truly arrived.  I was looking at my December Daily book and couldn’t think of what to put in it for December 2nd.  You see, I am already behind, which I don’t like to be, but it was in that moment of reflection that I realized I wasn’t taking pictures regularly…even knowing that I am committed to documenting this December.  As I thought of the 2nd, I couldn’t see anything that I wanted to share.  The day had been uneventful (not that only eventful stories need to be shared!) and the evening…well, it wasn’t pretty…

On the evening of December 2nd, actually all day, I had been feeling this stress build within myself.  I have a small work station set up in our den where I can make jewelry like my dad once did.  In it is a table, my supplies and tools.  At my prodding, Leo, my brother-in-law, had given me several pieces of vintage silverware that were awaiting beads and jewels so that they could come become beautiful bracelets.  We had a major show, actually two, the next day and those beads, those bands were still waiting.

I spent the better part of the day focused on school, cleaning, baking and everything else, telling myself that though I needed to get to them, I would.  I ignored the fact that I was dancing around the need to finish them. Ah, but sometimes we can’t see when we are living in avoidance!  By the time Mark got home, I was itching with irritability (as a wise old friend once described herself).  We were chatting about the next day and after a phone call with an unexpected expectation being placed on us, we began to argue.  Yes, we do argue…despite how much we love one another.

This argument, though, seemed to take on something more.  Maybe it was all those bottled up moments since my dad had passed, the cursory explanations, and unclear communications.  Before I knew it, I was in tears and he was quite upset.  In order to escape that discomfort, I eventually retreated to our den–knowing that the time had come where I couldn’t procrastinate anymore.  As I picked up the silverware and began to work on making the jewelry, in my memory, I began to see my father’s hands next to me.  I slowly began to realize why I had been avoiding this place.

“Tears have a wisdom all their own.  They come when a person has relaxed enough to let go and to work through his sorrow.  They are the natural bleeding of an emotional wound, carrying the poison out of the system.  Here lies the road to recovery.”  ~F. Alexander Magoun

You see, in the last month before he passed, I would sit with him at his work station…often just him and I, though others were always near.  Sometimes it was just sitting there helping him put together bead arrangements.  Other times, I would work on my computer alongside him as he worked on his jewelry.  Eventually, as he grew weaker, I asked him to show me how he made them.  Part of me wanted to share in his joy and happiness in making that jewelry, while the other part of me wanted to give him the gift of being able to share his new found passion and interest with another.  We rejoiced when I finally figured it out and held a finished bracelet in my hands.  On December 2nd, in my mind’s eye, I could see his hands bending the wire, hear his words quietly instructing me in my heart…and it was too much.

“Man could not live life if he was entirely impervious to sadness.  Many sorrows can be endured only be being embraced and the pleasure taken in them naturally has a somewhat melancholy character.”  ~Emil Durkheim

In an instant, I recognized why I had been avoiding that room for weeks.  I began to understand that the stress I was feeling was not because of all that was undone or even that argument, it was the grief that was overcoming me.  The realization that his death, his passing, the pain…it was finally settling in.  My tears turned into sobs as I finally stopped wrestling with it…as my heart began to take down the barricades that I had thrown up to try to prevent the sorrow from coming in.

“She was no longer wrestling with grief, but could sit down with it as a lasting companion and make it a sharer in her thoughts.”  ~George Eliot

As I sat there yesterday afternoon, I realized that this year no matter how many times we smile, no matter how wonderful the beautiful music or fun the presents, no matter how many loved ones we are blessed to celebrate Christmas with, this Christmas is a time of mourning for us, for me.  In that moment, I realized that I did have something that I wanted to remember for December 2nd, 2011:  I had finally allowed grief to come in.

“Don’t be afraid to cry.  It will free your mind of sorrowful thoughts.”  ~Hopi saying

Looking for something to begin with for that day, I found a tub of Christmas tags.  I had popped off the lid and pulled out a green tag, and to my surprise, it said “greetings”.  For some reason, it felt right.  It hit me then that I have a choice on how to greet my grief…with a willing heart and an open mind or with a shovel and some dirt.  That if I truly trust God with my life, I must trust Him with experiencing grief even in its heaviness and most painful moments.  My dance of denial and weak efforts to sweep it under the rug are not trust–not trusting in Him or in who He has made (and is making) me to be–they are just disguised efforts to control by avoidance that which can’t be stopped.  To live life to its fullest, I want to greet grief with the trust that it is here for a reason and will only stay as long as necessary.  To understand and remember that I don’t want the busyness of life, in all its normalcy, to numb me to the pain I must deal with–that I am suppose to deal with.  I don’t want this Christmas to be about finding a “new normal” just yet…for the moment, I just want to truly and deeply miss him, his smile, and his love for Christmas.  I want to truly experience these moments for what they are, trusting that in being present in this season of mourning, a greater joy will one day return.

“Sorrow comes to all…perfect relief is not possible, except with time.  You cannot realize that you will ever feel better, and yet you are sure to be happy again.”  ~Abraham Lincoln

Stirrings

There is nothing worse than knowing you need to fix something, but not knowing quite how.  As I was sitting with a friend, I listened to her explain how her frustration and anger towards her family for how they had treated her had played a part in her heart attack.  She could clearly see that her internal bitterness, anger and resentment had landed her in the hospital.  As a priest came into her room to talk, she shared with him her dilemma.  Without a lot of details, he told her about the need for forgiveness.  In her sweet but direct way, she told him how she appreciated that thought, but that instruction…the need to forgive, to not hold on to those feelings, never seems to come with instructions on the “how to” part.  You could hear that she desperately wanted the “tools” to undo the anger and forgive, partially realizing that there was work to do in her heart before she could get there.

It was an interesting perspective…I had just found myself asking God that same question days earlier.  I was truly glad that He was showing me that I was struggling with anger, but I have been praying, for years in some cases, for it to go away.  I knew that I could “say” that I had forgiven as so many do, but I wasn’t really sure how to truly uproot those trapped feelings in my heart.  As my friend spoke, her words resonated my own questions to God…how God, do we find forgiveness? I know that mere words mean nothing to Him; it must be heartfelt and I was still feeling anger and unforgiveness in my heart.

“Time and time again He restrained His anger and did not stir up His full wrath.”   ~Psalm 78:38

I shared this Scripture with you last time and focused on restraint, but when I first read this verse, what stuck out to me was not the word restraint but stir.  Now maybe, it is because I love to cook!  Or maybe, because in my family, including my husband, we all love to “stir” the pot with each other…I, myself, am as guilty as anyone else.  Most of the time, it makes us laugh, but then sometimes that stirring causes an “ouch” effect when we unknowingly, or maybe knowingly, hit a tender spot.

The word stir means to move, agitate, incite to action, excite, raise, quicken, aliven, or to disturb.  Noah Webster, American Dictionary of the English Language (ADEL), 1828.  Now stop and think about it in context of relationships and anger.  What causes you to grow more angry?  For myself, it is when I allow my thoughts to stir around in my head.  Just like in a mixing bowl where you have a bunch of ingredients sitting on top of each other, once you begin to stir, they become melded together.  The mixture, while being stirred, pulls other ingredients into the stickiness of that concoction.  So what was once some flour, butter, egg, vanilla, and sugar…now becomes a gooey mess.  I liken the picture to anger.

Someone or something angers us.  As our mind begins to ruminate over that perceived wrong, we catch a glimpse at another thing that aggravated us about them.  Then another, and the next you know, your anger has grown.  These thoughts all become sticky and drag in others that might really have nothing to do with the situation.  Somehow as our minds stir these moments together, we create a bigger pot of stew–a stew of anger that is bubbling and growing in size and temperature…

Did you know that too often you can over-stir a recipe, especially when baking?  When you do, the mixture becomes very tough and not so good to eat.  Most recipes call for you to stir the ingredients just enough to bring them together but not overmix them.  It is probably natural for our memories of prior wrongs to be awakened slightly to a new offense, but they are probably not meant to be brought into the mix to fuel that new situation.  Ah, may that be how wrath arises?  Over-stirring our anger…

So what does become of overmixed, bubbling anger then?  The Scripture gives us a clue.  It can turn into wrath.  Wrath is violent anger, vehement exasperation, and plainly, the effects of anger. ADEL.  Let’s take a look at that definition in a bit more detail to see if we ever experience wrath?

Vehement means “showing or caused by strong feelings; forceful; ardent.”  Reader’s Digest Oxford Complete Wordfinder (RDOCW), pg. 1706.  In the ADEL, it is defined as “acting with great force; very forcible; furious.”  ADEL.  What does forceful mean?  It means “vigorous, powerful; (of speech) compelling; impressive.”  RDOCW, pg. 571.  Let’s go a little deeper by looking at its synonyms:  “energetic, aggressive, strong, weighty, effective, convincing, persausive.  So with vehement, it can be passionately arguing with compelling words that are strong and effective.  Maybe it can be that statement arising out of your mouth that you quietly know carries a punch to another.

Now let’s look at exasperation which the word vehement is describing.  Exasperation is when you are “irritated intensely; infuriated; or enraged.”  RDOCW, pg. 500.  You can be irritated, vexed, bothered, nettled, tormented, rubbed the wrong way, someone or something has gotten under your skin, gotten your goat, incensed you, is driving you crazy and so on  Id.  Hmmm…putting those two words together…have you ever responded to someone or something in wrath?  With your words, have you found yourself speaking abruptedly and effectively with great irritation towards someone who has gotten to you?  Well, my friend, you have felt wrath.

So as I sat and looked at Psalm 78:38, I was struck by what it said…”He…did not stir up His full wrath.”  Again, for the moment, I paused in praise for the weight of those words.  God loves me enough to not stir up His full wrath when I have wronged Him.  It doesn’t mean that He doesn’t feel frustration towards me for my wrongs, He chooses not to stir up His anger into a complete and fully deserved wrath.  For that I am so grateful in ways now that I had never known.  It is not easy for me to see myself as a sinner.  I like to think I am trying to live a life pleasing to Him, and while that might be partly true, this Scripture brings to me the realization of how much more I need God’s mercy in my life…how imperfect I am.  For with this Scripture (and others), with these teachings that He has been touching my heart with, He is right.  I am struggling with anger, bitterness, and yes, even wrath when I allow someone else to get under my skin…in my heart, I need to change.  By His example, I see that stirring myself up in anger only brings me closer to a full wrath…which He withholds from me, so shouldn’t I with others?

How many of you out there have found yourself wishing you had said “this” or “that” in response to the person who aggravated you?  How often are you later thinking of not only their current offense but how they’ve wronged you in the past?  Or maybe, just maybe, you heard about them wronging someone else?  That, my friend, is stirring.  When we engage thoughts like this, we are exciting our brains to anger.  We are letting ourselves become more agitated.  Sometimes we even find ourselves wishing for the opportunity to come again so that we can say those wonderful one-liners that have since popped into our minds.

I don’t know about you, but slowing down and looking at myself in light of this, I see that not only do those stirrings give rise to more frustration in me, but they also cause me to be more quick to offend again.  I am alivened to the idea that this person is going to anger or wrong me.  Anger never causes us to see the good in people, but brings into focus what we don’t like.  When I allow those type of thoughts to be stirred around inside of me, I am so much less merciful, so more willing to see them in judgment than in grace.  So much more willing to embrace my full frustration instead of restraining it.

How about you?  Have you ever felt these frustrations or dwelt in the land of bitterness, anger and resentment?

“A gentle answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger.”  ~Proverbs 15:1

What is amazing to me is that God has much more instruction on this topic.  As a result, I am going to move this topic and what His Word has to say about it over to a new page called “Ponderings”.  There I invite you to join in with me as I learn what God has to say in His Word about all sorts of topics starting out with anger and compassion–and hopefully, growing from there.  In my experience, I have always found that by sharing our lives and what we are learning, we often come to greater understanding, insight and personal growth.  I hope to see you there!

Advent

Today we officially started our Advent festivities!  This is a new tradition for us in that we just started it last year.  I was part of a Stamp Club through Stamping Up, and came across this Advent Calendar kit so I decided it might be a neat thing to try.

In my childhood, we often had an Advent calender with little doors that we opened up.  I remember loving it!  I couldn’t even tell you what the things said, but I remember being excited each day to open it.  It was with that sweet memory that I decided to venture down the road of Advent in my own home.

Advent is defined as “a coming; appropriately the coming of our Savior, and in the calendar, it includes four sabbaths before Christmas, beginning on St. Andrew’s Day, or on the sabbath next before or after it.”  Noah Webster, American Dictionary of the English Language, 1828.  So technically, Advent started on Sunday, November 27th.  For us, it is easier to start from December 1st and end on Christmas.  The more important definition is that it is “a season of devotion”…a time for reflection on what this season means.  To me, Advent allows us to slow down and process over 25 days the love of Christmas with love for each other.

Starting this last year, I put together the Stamping Up Advent calendar and strung it in our dining room window.  I also found this cool Lego Advent calendar that I thought Josh might like.  At first, he wasn’t quite sure what to expect.  He had never experienced Advent before in the sense of a daily reminder with a little gift.  Boy, how he ended up loving it!  He opened one in the morning and then the other in the evening when Mark got home.  Oftentimes, he would have to search for the gift as those boxes are really too small to hold much.  Most mornings, it would be the very first thing he would do.

What I didn’t realize was how perfect the timing was.  Josh was 10 years old, and as we all know, there is a time in life when kids start to wonder about things.  Sometimes they come up with the questions themselves, or other times, somebody helps them along.  2010 was that year for us, and those thoughts were troubling to him.  But somehow, celebrating the Advent really spoke to him.  He embraced it with renewed and refreshed excitement while processing all that he was learning.

This year, he is so excited!  Very excited.  He couldn’t wait for Advent today.  He even asked me about it over the weekend.  I think he was reminding me of how important it is to him.  So you might ask, what are in the boxes?  Normally, a little note plus a little gift.  Sometimes it is candy.  Sometimes it is tiny toy, balloon, or ball of some sort…that’s what he was looking for this morning hidden in our dining room Christmas trees.  Last year, we put Pokemon cards, tiny packages of Legos, or stickers, and mixed in with the fun were gentle reminders that faith is important, others need to be loved, and that Jesus is the reason we make this time special for each other!