Never enough of Him

The more "I" increase, the more I dislike me. I'm cranky, tired, achy and oh-so-picky. When I think about the Lord, however, I want to be more like Him. If as in Jeremiah, I seek the Lord with ALL my heart, I will find Him. I need to put away my own indulgences and get into His presence. "Sir, we would see Jesus."

Stacey Noll - I'll Hold You In Heaven

Full House Yet Vacant Rooms

Full House Yet Vacant Rooms
By Kimery Lorenz

Once upon a time, in a land not so far away lived a husband, a wife and three children. It was a happy sort of life, you see. All she dreamed of, was being wife and mom to 4 beautiful, well-adjusted children. Then, one day, quite suddenly it seemed, she found out she was carrying child number four. All was well with her world, or so it seemed.
She should have been leery when she felt not one bit queasy. She was a bit nervous, but reasoned, “The luck of the draw, I’ve paid my dues with the other three nauseating pregnancies.” Days passed by quickly and before she knew it, she was one week shy of the 12 week, first prenatal check. Then IT happened! The spotting, which she’d never encountered before! She panicked but rationalized she’d been doing lots of lifting with her children and made mental note, to let hubby do the lifting. Things settled for a week or so, until. . . The spotting reappeared. This once happy mom-to-be tried to calm herself and just to be sure all was well, she called the doctor’s office. A bit nervous was she, but never prepared for what came next. The ultrasound, normally displaying a heartbeat and sweet kicks of a tiny babe, glaringly displayed only an empty sac. Because she was leaving town the next day, and given dire ‘you could hemorrhage” warnings, she was given the choice – procedure to eliminate tissue needed to happen tonight or the next morning. The couple opted for that night. That “couple” was us.
The journey that miscarriage took us on was surreal. Never had I had to have a ‘procedure’ done before. It was a cold, calculating experience where the nurse and doctor bantered back and forth as if this was everyday occurrence. I wanted to shout, “my baby’s dead and all you can do is casually converse?!”
It was only the beginning of a whole new world; one that I had never counted on.
I’d always assumed I would have my four wonderful pregnancies with no complications, yet here I was.
From the dear nurse at the doctor’s office, who’d had two or three miscarriages before she ever gave birth, to family members, to the neighbor and the church ladies – everyone had their story to tell. Yet, why was I just hearing their sorrows? Why hadn’t I heard of the statistics before of the actual number of miscarriages that happened? Or was it, I hadn’t been listening? Why didn’t I hear about this in the caring community called the church?
My first loss of a child was physically traumatic. There were health issues, caused because all the tissue had not been retrieved by the surgeon, tricking my body into thinking it was still pregnant. Although my body healed fairly quickly after I had surgery the next month, my heart was forever altered. I’d want to look away, yet my eyes were inexplicably drawn to friends’ bellies growing round with their developing children.
There was always to be that, “I wonder if he/she had lived” questioning in my mind. There’s something about once a mama conceives, she never forgets.
I’ve since gone on to have a total of six living children, interspersed with the loss of five babies miscarried.
Forever altered, now I know to send cards, notes of encouragement, drop a phone call to a mom who has lost her precious child. I understand, now, that words “I’m so sorry for the loss of your baby” is both all a person can and should say, followed by, “I’ll be praying for you.” Then, I want that mama to know, I will listen, when she needs to talk. I will offer resources, such as the book by Dr. Jack Hayford, “I’ll Hold You in Heaven.” I will encourage others to do the same, especially those who call themselves prolife.
All life is precious, no matter the stage of life. We don’t know why these babies are taken so prematurely, we just know they are forever molded in our hearts. Even if only for a few short weeks, that baby was ours to nurture! Sometimes when I go out with my living children, there are times that although every one is present and accounted for, I find myself recounting. There gnaws on my mind I’m missing someone. It’s then I remember, yes, there are children missing from my current head-count, but they wait ahead in heaven’s grand stands. Some day soon I think, I shall be reunited with five more beaming faces and then, my head will nod. Yes, all are present and accounted for.

At times it seems life is too hard. Raising children too difficult a task. Being a godly wife, mother, friend is not attainable. And, well, the 'watchman on the wall' thing? It's waaaaaay out there -- far beyond reach. I can't, I won't, but I must?! Oh can we ignore things that God brings to our wall, slides under the crack of the heart's door? How can we see so much potential in our children, see them supercede their self-expectations in so many ways, yet fall so far from what God has for them in other ways? How can they see when friends are but for a season and the season has passed? How can we show them this? How do we determine when we speak to them, or when we speak only to the Father? Raising toddlers was so much easier. "Lord, hear our cry."

School's started but am I ready

Lord, help me this year to plan well -- not to overload. Help me with a do-able, overseeable schedule and help me to plan and stick to fun as well. Lord, You see the character issues that need work. Help us to properly shape those 'characters' for Your Kingdom.
Thank You, Lord!
In Jesus' name...
Amen

Jungle Woman

There she was, crawling through the thick, murky underbrush, trying hard to stay on top of things. Why her, she wondered, brushing her sweaty strands aside. Elbow-by-elbow, knee-by-knee, she pressed onward, forcing her way through dead bodies of insects, some intact, some 'not so much'. Foraging on, finding a stick, she began hacking her way through. Somehow, someway, she determined to see daylight and fresh air again. If only there was someone who'd heard her frantic call, someone to rescue her. Wielding the stick like a mighty sword, she quickly flung debris far and wide. Little by little, she began to progress toward an opening. Yes! The path was widening! Gulping in deep breaths, she could tell there was fresh air ahead! She was almost home. Agilely, the sojourner deflected more animal bodies, more copious sharp, sometimes unimaginable objects, she steeled herself onward. One...last..."hi-YA"! Yes! She saw the light! Sucking in her breath, she exhaled slowly, savoring the moment. Daylight had broken - there she was just before the open door. Heaving one last sigh, as she sat down with a feeling of utter satisfaction. She HAD made it unscathed! She was victor! Free at last, thank the Lord Almighty, she was free at last!

Moral of the story:

If young Reaganmeister ever leaves a mess like what she found under his bed again, she vowed to hang him by his toenails and feed him ONLY his dreaded tomatoes and cooked green beans and peas!!!

spoiled it again, God, didn't ya?

spoiled it again, God, didn't ya?

We were sitting watching a movie as a family that was MOSTLY ok, but had some cursing, raunchy sex scenes. We fast forwarded, there was even some stuff about casting spells -- 'just a little bit'...again we fast forwarded. We were of course, saddened that the movie producers had to add that crud, but satisfied that we didn't watch it....
But, said that still small voice, 'you paid for it - by buying or renting that movie, you actually told them you are supporting that with your money. Hollywood is about money...'

God ever ruin that stuff for you? My family is now thinking, mom is a spoilsport. I don't answer to them; when I close my eyes here for the last time, I stand before the One who sacrificed everything...
So far, I'm thinking I've not passed the test...

Glad, He's given me another chance. Wonder what would happen if we went to a theatre and saw this or blasphemy and actually got up, went out and asked for a refund if Hollywood and the local theatre might ask for changes...