2am mind-fields

"Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time he may exalt you, casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you. Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour. Resist him, firm in your faith, knowing that the same kinds of suffering are being experienced by your brotherhood throughout the world. And after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you. To him be the dominion forever and ever. Amen." -- 1 Peter 5:6-11 (ESV)

My week started roughly. Zachary woke at 2am on Monday with a cough that wouldn't let him get back to sleep. After giving him some medicine and rubbing his back, I lay in bed waiting to hear his cough subside. Then the battle began again. I entered the mind-field, the place where spiritual wars are waged.

I'm so weak after middle-of-the-night parenting episodes. I'm not awake enough to do anything productive, but definitely awake enough to think; to mull over every regret and 'what if' of my life. In those moments of semi-consciousness, my faults are clear and glowing, like toxic waste. I can't seem to look away. I contemplate things I should have said or done and how I've screwed up some things permanently. Then I blame-shift. I stew in past hurts, abuses never made right. I justify my bitterness and strengthen my resolve. All this only to awake hours later exhausted. I have nothing to show for my streams of pontificating except discouragement, another chink in my armour.

Scripture says Satan prowls about like a lion, seeking whom he may devour. At 2 am I am easy prey. I am attacked by insecurities, doubts and anger. Wounds I thought to have healed rip open and begin to fester. I hate it. The confidence I have in what God wants from and for me dwindles. I question everything, thanks to a sleepless night filled with vile whispers.

Why am I so weak? Why must I deal with the same struggles over and over? Mercy. Grace. Forgiveness. Acceptance. It seems a daily struggle for me. But the passage that affirms the attacks also reminds me I'm not alone. "The same kinds of suffering are being experienced ... throughout the world." So, what do we do with this? To quote Michael W. Smith, pray for me and I will pray for you.

This week I have been reminded over and over of the need for prayer. It is so important! I pray for you. Did you know that? Every time I log onto this website, I pray for every person who visits it. I pray for those of you I know and those I don't. I hope you pray for me, too. If you have a specific need, please let me know. You can email me or leave a note in the comments. I would be honored to shoulder our burdens together. May we be humble, sober-minded and firm in our faith.

Ich bete wieder, du Erlauchter

Today I just want to share a poem with you. It was written by Rainer Maria Rilke and can be found in Rilke's Book of Hours: Love Poems to God. The original work was written in German. Since I know very few German words, I cannot vouche for the translation*. I can, however, attest to the fathomless sincerity of this prayer; the utter humility before a holy God.


I am praying again, Awesome One.

You hear me again, as words
from the depths of me
rush toward you in the wind.

I've been scattered in pieces,
torn by conflict,
mocked by laughter,
washed down in drink.

In alleyways I sweep myself up
out of garbage and broken glass.
With my half-mouth I stammer you,
who are eternal in your symmetry.
I lift to you my half-hands
in wordless beseeching, that I may find again
the eyes with which I once beheld you.

I am a house gutted by fire
where only the guilty sometimes sleep
before the punishment that devours them
hounds them out into the open.

I am a city by the sea
sinking into a toxic tide.
I am a stranger to myself, as though someone unknown
had poisoned my mother as she carried me.

It's here in all the pieces of my shame
that now I find myself again.
I yearn to belong to something, to be contained
in an all-embracing mind that sees me
as a single thing.
I yearn to be held
in the great hands of your heart --
oh let them take me now.
Into them I place these fragments, my life,
and you, God -- spend them however you want.


"God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble. Humble yourselves, therefore, under God's mighty hand, that he may lift you up in due time. Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you." -- 1 Peter 5: 5-7 (NIV)

* The editors/translators of this version have been criticized for taking too many interpretive liberties. A new and truer translation (with commentary) is set for release April 2008.

As promised ...

Sorry for the lack of posts. My mom is visiting from out of state. We only see each other a few times a year, so I'm hesitant to spend what little time we have on the computer. However, I don't want to leave you completely and I did promise to share some more wedding pictures. You may remember our Isabel was the flower girl in a family wedding last month. It was such a wonderful day! Here are some of my favorite stolen moments. ENJOY!! I'll post again in a few days.

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Preparing to walk away

I am officially a "school mom." Last week Isabel had her preschool orientation. It was her first day, but parents stayed, too. Today was her first day by herself. We have been looking forward to this day all summer. She was ecstatic! I was a little stressed, wanting to make sure everything was done right - the parking lot, the drop-off, her bag packed properly, every detail. I was so focused on those details, I didn't prepare myself for walking away. A little detail, but it's a big one when your first child starts school.

Every parent talks about the difficulties of letting go. I've listened and heeded their advice. I've tried to take advantage of every moment with my kids, never wishing away a single day. And I continually remind myself these kids do not belong to me; rather, they belong to God. He has entrusted them to me for a short while, but they are not mine. This mindset has been great. I've never struggled leaving kids with babysitters or encouraging them to try new things. I parent with an open hand. I did not expect to feel the way I did this morning.

Isabel ran into her class. I tucked her bag in her cubby, and she donned her frog name tag. She waved "hello" to her teacher then turned to send me on my way. "Bye, Mom! Bye, Dad! I love you!" I stood alone in the middle of the class just watching her. My hands were empty and my chest tight. She hustled over to some toys and greeted the other students. "Hi! How are you today?" She was so happy! So why was it so hard to walk away?

Rick and I filed back to the car with Zachary in tow. He, by the way, was thrilled to have our undivided attention. He laughed the whole way home. We dropped Daddy off at the train station. It wasn't until then that I felt myself breathe again. My throat has been tight all day. I've not cried. I refuse to do so. I have prayed ... a lot! Zach and I have had a wonderful time reading books. We've truly enjoyed our one-on-one time and look forward to having more of it. But still, my baby ...

It's impossible to adequately describe how my heart walks outside of me! I watch her go and desperately long to keep her close. I cling to the memories we've made together. I relish her laughter. Oh, if I could bottle the light in her eyes! And this is just the beginning. It's only preschool. I've still got regular school, summer camps, high school and college to look forward to. If three years can pass in a moment, I've very few days before she'll be a woman on her own.

God, please give me wisdom! Help me to use wisely the time You've given me with these children. Make me like You that they may witness Your love on a daily basis. Help me to teach them Your truths, to instill in them a passion for Your Word and a desire to serve You wholly. Make me worthy of Your goodness. Mold me into the steward these treasures require. You are always faithful! Help me to be the same. Prepare them for the world they must face. Use me to ready them for Your use. May they grow deeply devoted to You and the work You have prepared for them ...

No strength in numbers (Little Laws, Part 2)

Five different law firms have contacted me regarding my "legal difficulties", my "pending charges", my "summons" which may lead to "serious penalties ... and possible incarceration." I feel like such a criminal. (Please hear the hint of sarcasm in that statement.) I mean, c'mon! It's a traffic ticket!

I've posted the documentation on our fridge for all to see. It's my first ticket. I'm proud. Okay, proud is not the word for it. Perhaps "denial" is better. Rick asked me what I planned to do with it. I relayed the instructions the officer gave me. Plead not guilty, then talk to the prosecutor who would grant me grace based on my flawless record. This prevents a fine, raised insurance rates, points on my license and a permanent mark on my record. All I have to do is show up in court. Rick gave me one of his looks, the one that makes me feel as clever as saran wrap and equally transparent. "But you're guilty."
"Yeah, I know, but he said --"
"You're guilty. Pay the fine."

We're all guilty of something. It doesn't matter if it's big or it's little; we're still guilty. Being guilty is not the problem. Trying to convince ourselves and everyone else we're not guilty is the problem. We look for loop-holes. We seek to find a way around the consequences. I know I'm guilty. I admit it freely. Hey - I've announced it to the world on this website! In spite of my admission, I still want to avoid punishment.

No matter what the offense, we can find many who are eager to help us with our self-denial. These five letters represent more than fifteen attorneys eager to help me look innocent. I've been told how easy it is to just "get out of it," with little or no thought to truth. Everybody does it. It's not a big deal. I'd be saving myself money! I was convinced. Only one person looked me in the eye and made me face the truth.

Now, I did something wrong and found many who would help me continue to be wrong. This disproportionate support can also exist when we do something right.

I'm currently reading Hearing God's Voice by Henry and Richard Blackaby. They tell a story of a man who, when he was a teen, felt called to missions. He went on to medical school where he was so successful, he was offered a prestigious position in research after graduation. His friends and family all saw this as God's blessing. Meanwhile, this young man wasn't sure. He still felt drawn to missions, but because of the encouragement of all his loved ones, he took the job. Years later, married, with children and settled in a comfortable life, he still wondered about that calling on his life. Had he made the right decision?

Sometimes we're going down the wrong road. We've made mistakes and we need to correct our steps. Sometimes we're on the right road, but we get distracted by what we see down side streets. In either situation, we will be surrounded by people who want to help us, whether they know what's right or not. Numbers are irrelevant. God's ways do not work by "majority rules." God rules. He's the only One that matters and that's all we need to know. Our paths need only follow His. The throng of voices is silenced in the wake of His still, small whisper. So, listen for His voice. It's subtle, but it's there. Saturate yourself with His Word and then just listen to be sure you're walking in truth.

The funny thing is when we walk in truth, those herds of people shouting directions stop and watch. I'm always amazed at people's reactions when I do something right, but rare -- like returning to pay for clothes that were in my bag, but not listed on my receipt or correcting cashiers when they give me too much change. They're shocked! In this world, people don't often see the Truth in action. They'll watch and they'll respect when they see it. So, go ahead -- give 'em a show.