The Journey

Where do these steps lead? What is beyond and over the hill?

Last week was a special journey for me as I lead a group of special people on a journey into the stories of their past at SALTS (Survivors of Abuse Leadership Training) with Open Hearts Ministry.

There were breakdowns, blowouts, and heart failures along the way. And there were glorious scenes of God's beauty played out as hearts melted, understood realities and moved into new freedoms.

The setting was the Maranatha Campus on Lake Michigan and this photo is such a true picture of the week. We all came bringing some baggage and it was heavy. We all longed to leave it there in God's care. The week required a few stops at the garbage dump to leave baggage in the form of lies believed, illigitimate shame carried, and unhealthy ways of protecting our wounded hearts.

But before we could head for the dump, we had to walk a journey into the unknown. We began taking the steps we could see like the ones in the photo, and then continued to places on the journey where we couldn't see where the next steps would lead us. It required faith and a willingness to offer some trust to others.

Lies were uncovered and agreements broken. False and plastic identities to hide and protect were torn down and authentic faces appeared. Frozen hearts became alive with hope for new beginnings.

It was a special gift to enter the stories and be a journey guide for some who came anticipating the adventure. The celebration at the close of this portion of the journey was sweet, laughter rich and connecting priceless.

There are new co-travelers to join me on my journey. There are new faces in my spiritual community.

None of us know where the steps lead beyond where our eyes can see, but I continue on walking in faith that God, the One who writes my travel plan is my steady journey companion.

Where are you on your journey toward the One who wrote your life plan?

Life has been somewhat like this photo for me lately. There have been swirling dark clouds, not only in my life, but in the lives of some of my friends. Some of those clouds represent serious illness, family disruption, marital struggles, plans dashed and spiritual battle.

We aren't promised a bed of roses. What an interesting saying - what would a bed of roses really be? I'd settle for friends healed free of cancer, marriages restored, hearts opened to God's plan for them and longings met. You can have the bed of roses - I'll take the other.

But we don't always have the choice of taking either. God doesn't promise each chapter will end with the prince coming for the princess on the white horse and they live happily ever after. God doesn't promise healing. God does promise that all things will work to my good if I trust Him.

There have been some difficult moments just this past week when trust has been a real stretch of my heart. A dear friend experienced a very difficult situation earlier this week that looked out of the realm of God's fix. So much hope was dashed, and what was to be a celebration had turned to a funeral. As we cried together and prayed, there weren't words to make sense of the trauma. I mentioned the promise about God turning everything to good if we trust. We talked about having blind trust when life makes no sense. I spoke it for my friend's benefit but I struggled to see how God could turn this to anything good. It looked so tragic from our earthly stance.

God had a plan and His promise is true. He turned a funeral into a celebration with the unexpected visit of someone who had been there and could speak great hope into the dashed dreams.

I had pleaded with God earlier in the day to give me a sign that He would fulfill His promise to make things better for me and for my struggling friends. God didn't change the circumstances of my struggle or for the struggles of some of my friends, but He did show up miraculously for one and that is enough for me to begin today with blind trust. God keeps His word - not in my time line and not always with the answer that I'm sure is the right one for me, but He shows up in His perfect timing.

I see God pulling up Google on His computer and locating Georgia and eventually my house where I sit this morning asking for His presence. Right over my house - no - right over my heart is His little push pin. He's aware that I'm here.

If you go back to the photo, you can see a glimmer of Light coming up over the tree line under the dark clouds. I see that Light coming for me.

A time to laugh, a time to cry, a time to mourn, a time to hope....

A time to laugh, a time to cry, a time to mourn, a time to hope..........there has been time for all of that here in the serenity of the northwoods on our property entitled "Loonfeather Gatherings". The loons have gathered and sung to me, and there have been lots of gatherings of friends around the campfire and gatherings of thoughts of both losses and of hopes.

Soon the paddle boat and canoe will come out of the water to be washed down, dried and tucked away for another year. The frog wind sock will get a rest in the barn and the flowers will go back to Georgia. And so.............seasons. Seasons of life, seasons of rest. It has been a rest here - one I've called a sabbatical for me. There were things to laugh over, silly jokes around the campfire, antics of two fishermen coming in with stories of the "big one" that they couldn't get into the boat. Lot's of stories of potential fish...........few actual fish packages in the freezer for this winter's meals. Fishing was great but the catching was sparse this year.

There was an opportunity to cry. I didn't realize how the tears had been stored up until I began to sing along with Michael W. Smith's Worship album. "Draw me close to you" was my desire for this time of quiet. Somehow asking once again for God's closeness by song literally opened the flood gates of tears. Tears of both sadness and joy over the sale and closing of my childhood home. That chapter of my life is done, what was is no longer and what is to come is full of hope.

There was a time to mourn things that are lost, friendships, family ties, longings for things that will not come in my lifetime here on Earth, and of friends suffering illness and loss of hope.

And then there is that word - "hope". It pops up in my life so often. It's the foundation of our ministry - "Embraced by Hope". It guides me toward life, it reminds me to fight against the attack of Evil. It's the rainbow God gave me early on during this sabbatical that would remind me and carry me through the betrayal of what I thought was a good friend.

And so as I tuck away the things that stay here in the north woods, waiting for my return next year, I go back to the world I left behind with hope. Some dear friends have faced a time of waiting on God to open the door to the next chapter of their lives. As I have prayed for them and longed for God to answer their prayers quickly, I've thought back to the times God has opened new doors for Dane and me. There were new churches to pastor, new houses to make into a home for our growing family, new friends to make, moves to 16 different places and new memories to tuck away in our hearts. Each day is a new opportunity to hope. Today I prepare to leave this place with a cleansed heart, a rested mind, and hope for what God has for my tomorrows.

Black bird, black bird, fly away home!

While enjoying the serenity of the north woods, I enjoy feeding the birds, as does my neighbor. We both have seed feeders and hummingbird feeders. The hummingbird feeders have found my feeders adequate and have graced me with their presence. They will soon begin their long journey south to warmer weather for the winter. My neighbor has lots of chickadees and finches at his feeder. I have none. My seed is as good as his and my feeders well stocked.

I don't have the coveted little birds but................I have black birds - lots of them! I came up from the dock to a loud noise - a board meeting of black birds right in my yard. They have found my feeders and have invited their friends and family to join them.

At first just my presence frightened them off. Then they became more comfortable with me and I needed to clap my hands. Next I needed to add the words spoken with force "Shoo, Shoo!!" to the clapping. I wonder if I'm a comedy act for my neighbors as I shoo black birds out of my yard?

My time resting was being interrupted as the need to clap and yell "Shoo, Shoo!!" came more frequently. As I stood at the window washing dishes yesterday, God showed me a lesson on value. Who says the chickadees and finches are more valuable? They may be more colorful, but if I look at the shiny black feathers of the black birds when the sun hits them, I see a banquet of colors.

God doesn't see the birds as having variable values. He sees each as unique, valuable, and having a distinct purpose in the community of birds.

I took this a step further to me and my community of people. God sees each of us as equally valuable, unique and God has a plan for each of us, a life plan designed specifically for me. God has a huge refrigerator which has the photo of each one of His children on it. If I take the time to look, I'll find my photo there on His refrigerator.

I've been inviting God into my time of sabbatical. I missed His lesson in the black birds a first but I get it now. They came to my feeders for a purpose specifically for me. They are welcome to stay!

"Rain, rain go away - come again another day. This was my lament. Dane was at a delicate place in completing a project. My campfire was just about perfect for the soon-to-be enjoyed s'mores. Rain wasn't in the schedule and not a welcome addition to our plans. No, God, please - not rain - not right now. Yes, the earth does need rain - but God...........I have these plans and rain doesn't fit them well. Could you wait until another time to rain? Wah, wah, wah, on went my whining until the downpour of rain told me strongly that God intended for it to rain and for it to rain right now - despite my plans. My plans didn't coincide with God's plans and His plans were best. Hum..........are there other areas of my life when I whine at God to change His plans to suit mine?

As I sulked in my chair under the awning, a bright light caught my eye. It was a rainbow, one of the most brilliant and wide rainbows I've ever seen. I have a passion for rainbows and sunsets. I have lots of photos of gorgeous sunsets, but not many rainbows. To have a beautiful rainbow, first there must be a storm. This rainbow seemed to come right up out of the Canadian mountains and it's arc was complete, ending out over the water to the east - just as bold at one end as the other. As I grabbed my camera to capture this gift, there appeared yet another rainbow, not as bright, but there, just the same. Two rainbows, a sight I rarely see!

Dane was able to complete his project just before the rain got really heavy and there will be other evenings for camp fires and s'mores. The rain that I saw as an intrusion was God's plan to bless me and to answer my request to Him.

I've been purposing to quiet myself, listen to God's whispers to me and look for ways He is showing up in my life for me personally. God showed up through the rainbow, but first I had to trust His plan, a plan that didn't match the plan I had for the evening.

Without the rain I would have missed a beautiful meeting with Him. I purpose to continue to watch and listen for God and to look at areas of my life where I miss His gifts to me because of my resistance to His plan while clamouring for my own.

Serenity

The fifth wheel is packed and ready and we will soon be on the road to our little place of serenity in the north woods. We've been going there a long time. I remember the first time I visited Sugar Island. We went with our dear friends, David and Carolyn Miller. They now own the property right next to us and Dane and David will spend hours in the coming days attempting to entice fish onto any variety of baits in their tackle boxes.

Back to that first time...........Carolyn and I each left our babies of about 9 months behind with Grandmas. David's 55 chevy had car trouble on the way up and we arrived on the island in the dark. Back then Sugar Island was lit at night mostly by God's stars which are magnificent, but not light enough for a frightened young woman whose been fed people- eating bear stories all the way up. Yes, there are bear on the island but I've yet to see one. I'm always looking the wrong way and miss them. And they tell me the moose couple and their young are much more to be feared than the bear.

Now back to that first time.......two young married couples, a tiny, tiny vintage Scotty trailer, two little babies left back home, no electricity, an outhouse for personal needs, and not near enough chocolate chip cookies to soothe the homesickness. My words as we finally left the island that year (1967) was "if I ever get off this island alive, I'll NEVER step foot on it again!"

It's now 43 years later and I've gone back often. As I re-check packing lists and to-do's for those last minute needs, I can hardly wait to return to my little place of serenity. A number of years ago, God orchestrated an opportunity for us to purchase one of the lake lots. We now have running water, electricity and a beautiful fifth wheel that contains every thing I could possibly need for camping. When our son visited us and I mentioned camping, as he sprawled out on the comfy couch, he said "OK Mom, let's get serious! This is NOT camping!" He was remembering the early days of 5 young children on the lot with no running water, no electricity, an outhouse and "joy bucket" as Dad called it in the tent at night. One year it rained so hard the tent filled with water and we woke up to soaked sleeping bags and pillows. The children loved it.... getting to fish in David's boat, our annual trip to the local Pizza Hut, the camp fires, with s'mores and pie irons and our annual trips into Canada to see God's wilderness and beauty.

So again, God has graced me with a time to rest my mind and body as I hear the loons calling and watch the bald eagles fly in and out of their nest just across the water. I'll sit on my dock, across from the Canadian mountains and create things with my hands while I rest my mind and listen to God speak His words into me. I am blessed. Little did I know that first year at Sugar Island, the story God would write through me and the love relationship that would grow between me and the island. I go again open to what God has planned for the next stories He will write through me.

And if God is generous, maybe the men will catch some fish for us to enjoy.........and if not, we'll soothe ourselves with our annual trip riding the ferry to the mainland to enjoy a cheeseburger and fries at Clydes or a triple waffle ice cream cone at the local fudge shop while we watch the big ships go through the Soo Locks on their way to the big water.

Good bye to the place that holds so many stories............. this house - the place that housed me for 16 years - will soon go on the auction block. It looks different than I remember it. That's because it's gone through a transformation over time - just like my life.

When we arrived in late July, the house looked sad. It was run down, needed a fresh coat of paint inside and out, and I don't ever remember seeing the right side of this house this open. It was always encased in weeds covering much of it's exterior. At one time the owners of the house planted flowers but over time weeds had taken up residence. Now in my garden are small patches of lily of the valley and ivy from this place - new beginnings for abandoned beauty.

Inside, the ceiling battered by leaks, had fallen to the floor and the walls which could tell story after story, needed to be recovered with new. The attic held a stench and tell tale signs of being the home of a variety of vermits for a number of years. Once the evidence was removed, and the smell eradicted, the walls shored up and things put in order, it looked hopeful - even livable.

As we pulled away from this place after a grueling and non-stop weekend of hard labor, the house seemed to smile. Someone had come alongside it to help restore it to hope and new life. As we prepared to leave, the tears began to flow. This was good bye for good for me - the closing of doors long open and at times precarious and uncertain. Now, truth, closure, new hope and new beginnings for me and for this house.

This house has been in the generational cycle of my family for over 90 years. I spoke a prayer over the house that a new family might come to write new chapters here, chapters of laughter, family games, warm and inviting meals. Maybe someone to care for the roots of flowers once planted, taken over by neglect and now offered a space to grow and bloom again. Sounds like the path of many lives, including mine....... new beginnings, new hope, and new places to grow and bloom.