Ridiculous Actually

I've been missing in action. I've been battling a colon infection. Thankfully the Lord heard my prayers. I was able to attend our oldest daughters college graduation this past Saturday. I actually felt fantastic! My steroid fluid filled body got dressed up. My hair was having a weird day. Didn't care. Nothing was going to stop me from watching our oldest graduate magna cum laude. An accomplishment for which my husband and I can take absolutely no credit. The girl worked herself to death. So the Wooten's got all fancy for the occasion. My youngest daughter was able to spend three nights with us. Had both my girls for graduation, Mothers Day, and my mother in laws birthday party. It was a beautiful weekend! 

And then Monday night my symptoms returned. Ironically (or hysterically depending on your perspective) one of the side effects is weight loss.  I, of course, did not get that side effect. I got the blinding nausea, vomiting, bloating, and stomach pain that is akin to child birth. Awesome. A girl can't catch a break. 

Saturday before 8AM a dear friend called me. She was beside herself. She had just given her husband CPR while on the phone with 911. He had a massive heart attack. He was in route to the hospital. Her grown son was driving her to the cardiac hospital 30 miles away. I prayed for her while she was on the phone. I have no idea what I said. The Holy Spirit took over and knew exactly what my friend needed at that very moment. My colon issues seemed trivial. Small. Ridiculous actually. For the next 48 hours her husband remained in a medically induced coma. This really shook my husband up. Badly. Robin just kept saying "I can't imagine. I hate that. That is awful". He repeated this mantra throughout the weekend.

I really pressed the Lord to reveal to me why so many people we love are facing such hardship. One could argue it's our age. We are all getting older --of course people are getting sick. In the case of our friend I was particularly at a loss--he is a runner and in excellent shape. What about the terminal illness? The issues many of us have faced with our children? All of us are believers. "Why, Lord?" For three days I waited to hear from God. For three days I got nothing. I've walked with Him long enough to know He was waiting for me to remove my thoughts. To be still. More prayer. Less of me. 

Tuesday morning while making dinner, looking out the kitchen window, I heard Him. Or at least I heard a whisper in my spirit. "I'm coming. Don't grow weary. This is a battle. There's not much time. Stay the course".  Was it God? I'd like to think so. I don't consider myself astute enough to have really deep thoughts. 

Life isn't always easy.  Right now the world is in turmoil. The enemy is temporarily in charge. He is doing everything in his power to trip us up. Discourage us. Disillusion us. Exhaust us. Now more than ever we must stay diligent. Trust. Believe. Pray without ceasing. The enemy won't win. When all is said and done we win the ultimate prize. Forever in the presence of His Majesty. Now more than ever we must learn to lean into Him. Total and complete dependance, trust, and faith in Him. The one who will right the wrongs. Heal the sick. More of Him. Less of us. Temporary discomfort until we see Him face to face.

In the mean time maybe we don't need to know why. Maybe the answer is the journey.

"My grace is sufficient for you, for power is perfected in weakness."

-2 Corinthians 12:9

Breaking The Chains

Fear is a funny thing. It can paralyze us. It can motivate us. It can imprison us. It can consume us. One thing is for sure fear is not from God. We are told in 2 Timothy 1:7 "For God did not give us a Spirit of fear but of power and love and self-control." If you are like me your brain knows that. Sometimes your emotions can't comprehend it.

My biggest fear is asphyxiating. I have had more allergic reactions to food and medicine than I care to remember. All have landed me in the E.R. with my throat closing. I'm petrified every time I have to take a new medicine. I won't take medicine without my husband right beside me. He always has such a logical calming effect on me. He puts up with me insisting on praying over anything before I ingest it. "I've gotcha. Not a problem. We've got an Epipen and I can have you to the E.R. in no time. You are fine". He soothes my soul. Calms my irrational fears. Always a voice of reason.

What is not rational? Knowing that I'm going to be okay and yet 

I'm still terrified. The emotions are real. And rightfully so. BUT when they control me? Paralyze me? I throw freedom in Christ out the window.

The enemy wins. It's quite simply a stronghold.

The fact is that if we are saved the Lord has us. One of my very favorite verses in the bible is Jeremiah 29:11 "For I know what I have planned for you,' says the LORD. 'I have plans to prosper you, not to harm you. I have plans to give you a future filled with hope.'" God has plans for me. For you. He wants us to lead successful lives completely free from fear. He wants the chains to be broken.

So how do we break the chains? How do we conquer the fear? I think the answer, realistically, is we don't. We don't have too. Once we grasp the fact that Jesus Christ took all of our idiosyncrasies, fears, and anxiety for us by dying on the cross? The shakels should loosen a bit. On the days I start to feel the choke hold? I continually tell myself that I am covered in the Blood of Jesus Christ. I usually follow that up with an audible "satan back the hell off! You have no power over me. I am sealed. I am covered. I am a child of the Most High!"

Faith is having the courage to know you can't do it alone. Faith is trusting God to intervene on your behalf. Allowing God to take over for you. Handing it all over to Him. Trusting that the final outcome is in His control not ours.

"He brought them out of darkness, the utter darkness, and broke away their chains"-Psalm 107:14

Oh, Hey! I'm Back

Oh, hey! I'm back. After a week of illness and computer problems it feels good to put pen to paper again. Or fingers to keypad. You get the point. I am so technically challenged that I couldn't figure out how to publish the blog from my iPhone. I didn't have a backup plan. So basically last week was a bust.

Our HP desktop computer with the monstrous tower, after 7 years, decided to think about crashing. I was okay with it because the Hebraic number 7 means completion. That had to be a sign from God, right? The old girl had completed her duties faithfully. She had seen my kids through junior high school, high school, my space, AIM, and the early launch of Facebook. She had helped with camp applications, college applications. She had shopped for cotillion dresses, homecoming dresses, prom dresses graduation dresses, deb dresses, and funeral wardrobes. She had outfitted us well.

On Saturday I enlisted the help of my 23 year old tech savvy daughter. We made the 30 mile trek to Best Buy to purchase a new all in one computer and wireless printer. My husband and I both have iPads and iPhones so it seemed logical to get an Apple Computer. Let's be real--it wasn't logical. I just wanted to sound smart. I actually had no idea what the syncing and iCloud meant. 

I took a survey on Facebook and the general consensus was that the happiest computer owners were Apple people. So I bought an all in one Apple desktop with no tower. Huge investment compared to the $800 HP I could have repurchased.

I will admit that setting it up was magical! Everything just appeared on the screen as it is on my iPad! Who knew?! The challenge started when I couldn't figure out how to make the font bigger. How to make documents larger. How to make these pudgy fingers work on that weird little keyboard. After hearing me say "Well, my old computer could do this or that" at least a dozen times? My daughter promptly cut in "Mama, your old computer is dead. They get viruses. This is the best. You bought the best. It takes a bit to figure it out. Once you do you will love it. I'm done, Mama". She hugged me and left. So there I was staring at the sleek beautiful clean lined alien. A sudden panic took over. "Maybe I should take it back. Go purchase what I'm familiar with?" The blonde from the other room "Mama you are ridiculous".

The irony is that my computer ordeal is a lot like many of our faith walks. Our old ways do just fine. Until the bottom drops out. Then we realize the way we were living our lives? Well, we were missing out on the best. Many of us have dramatic conversions. Others have walked with Christ their whole lives. They had the vision. They could see the future that was in their best interest. Who had their best interest before they were born.

But what about those of us who give our lives to Christ who don't have perfect lives? We know we've chosen the best. Yet the old and familiar is always lurking around the corner. We are tempted to go back to the crash and burn. After all it requires no learning, no dedication, no patience. It didn't exactly run perfectly but we were comfortable with it. It was familiar. 

God doesn't promise us perfect. In fact, sometimes it's just the opposite. Sometimes he has to strip us bare. Peel away the old. Reboot us so to speak ( see what I did there).  Our new life in Him can be terrifying, frustrating, and lonely as He prepares us for the life He calls us to live. He gets rid of all the junk files. He knows what to trash and what to save. His possibilities are endless. Everyday He is teaching us new things, not only about ourselves, but about Him. He challenges us. He pushes us out of our comfort zone. He shows us things we've never been privy to before. Like my new shiny computer He rocks our world. And if we hang tight with Him? It is an awesome ride!

"And be sure of this: I am with you always, even to the end of time."-Mathew 28:20

I'm Obsessed

I was doing prep work in the kitchen yesterday afternoon for dinner. I flipped on the television. E News! was on. I'm embarrassed to say that after only 5 minutes I was hooked. It was the horrible kind of hooked. I knew it was trash but I just couldn't help myself. Everything in my brain was saying "Elizabeth, you are a college educated woman who knows who she is turn this junk off!" But I didn't. Giuliana Rancic had sucked me in. I wanted to be her friend in that moment. In a span of about 10 minutes I had the low down on who's ugly, who's hot, who to watch and not to watch. In ten minutes Giuliana had me convinced that I needed new clothes and an amazing destination vacation like Brad and Angelina. Commercial came on and snapped me back to reality.  My only thought was "No wonder girls and women have such warped perceptions of themselves!"

The potatoes had finished boiling and Tucker the Corgi was barking to go outside. As soon as I stepped onto the brick patio a voice in my head said "Look up!" The sky was magnificent! Deep blues, pinks, yellows and purples.  I'll admit it. I'm obsessed with God's artwork. Like it's an issue. Ask my husband. I will stop anything I'm doing-driving, laundry, a dinner with friends-to witness a gorgeous sunset. I've been known to leave groceries, in the cart at Food Lion, to capture a glimpse of the sunset in the parking lot. I put Tucker up, grabbed my purse, and headed  to the river.

The river that runs through our part of the world is lazy. Spanish moss accompanies its banks. It's often overlooked by passerby's who are in route to the beach. We have an awesome nature park. It's like my own private oasis. The sun sets perfectly over the quiet muddy banks. I kid you not, it can be a  religious experience. And yesterday was one of those days. I clearly heard the Holy Spirit whisper to my soul "No one is looking up. Tell them to look up". Now this is going to sound weird but I had a whole conversation going on in my head with God. "I know! I don't understand it. Well actually, Lord, I do. Everyone's watching E News! or the Kate Middleton baby countdown". Don't laugh it was a real moment.

Last night as Robin and I walked the dogs out before bed the stars were phenomenal. We live in the city limits. I don't think I've ever seen them so bright. Robin said "Whoah, that was cool. Did you see it?" Just above the tree tops a shooting star rocketed by. "Look up, child, look up" was all I heard ringing in my ears. As we put up the dogs I scrolled through my news feed. I happened upon an amazing picture. A couple in Up State New York captured a picture of four simultaneous vibrant rainbows at sunset last night. I definitely think God is speaking to us through the sky.

We are all so guilty of looking back, looking around us, and looking ahead. Rarely do we look at the now. Rarely do we look up. One of the things that attracted me most to my husband was his absolute love for his families farm. I have dozens of pictures of him just strolling through the fields. Totally at peace. Time stands still. We look up.  We don't look back. We don't look at the day ahead. We look at the sunset. Cicada's chirping, warm southern breezes, dogs barking in the distance. Leaves rustling in the woods. The quiet movement of deer in the fields. It is there I feel God. Physically feel His presence. He is breathtaking.

The bible is full of accounts of God using the sky to get the attention of man. Most notably, of course, is the story of the Wise men. But what intrigues me even more is Genesis 1:1. It is there that we are told "In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth". If that is the very first line in the bible? If that is the very first thing that God did? I'm pretty sure looking to the heavens is important to Him. 

There is certainly something going on in the sky that God wants us to know. He's trying to get our attention. Tonight? Turn off the news, go outside, and just watch the sunset. It is there that you will hear Him. See Him. It is there that you will witness just a glimpse of His majesty.

"for the one who approaches God must believe that he exists and that he
rewards those who seek him"-Hebrews 11:6

Twice A Day Every Day Forever

I promised a friend that I would write some "raise awareness for Lupus" entries in acknowledgement of Lupus month which runs through May. I really have never felt like being a verbal advocate for the disease. I do think awareness is key to educating others. But I've never felt it my burning desire to be a spokesperson. Primarily because I am only one woman out of the 5 million people affected. Why am I any different than anyone else? I'm not.

My routine is pretty simple. A far cry from just 10 years ago. Wake up, prayer time, write, walk into kitchen, swallow 8 pills. See my husband off, get dressed. Daily errands, computer business work, post office shipments for work, bible study, occasional visits with friends, walk the dogs if my legs are cooperating, cook supper, swallow 8 more pills. That's on a good day. Honestly, four to  five days a week, throw in a nap. I close my eyes in our den.  I always feel so guilty about it.  I turn all the recessed lights on. I remain sitting up....if I don't lay down it doesn't count as sleeping right? These are the crazy rationalizations from a former 'type A personality' turned "Lupie". 

My husband bought me the most beautiful hand-painted angels, by a local artist, at the beach. I keep them on the window sill in the kitchen. My daily meds are laid atop of the angels. I pray over those pills every time I swallow them. I ask the Lord to heal my body, to protect my body from allergic reactions, to bless the workers who processed the medicines in the lab. For whatever reason God has chosen not to heal me yet. Those wooden angels remind me to pray for my healing as well as family and friends who need healing.  To pray for the people concocting the pills that keep me going. To pray that I will be used to help someone else. That there is a purpose to all of this.

Let's go back to God not healing me (or healing many of you reading this). There are several schools of thought. One is that if we pray hard enough God will heal us. If we believe that His grace is sufficient enough.  Then there are those who think they have done something "bad" in their lifetime to deserve illness. The  thing about this misinterpretation is that not only does it tell people that it may not be God's will to heal them, but it actually makes the person accept, welcome, and be thankful for their sickness. Being thankful for sickness can be construed, by others, to mean that you believe you aren't heal-able.

I've been all over the map.  I have believed in the word of faith movement for healing. I've believed Grace was enough to heal me. When it didn't happen? I believed I deserved this. The fact of the matter, for me, is I no longer need a reason. Am I happy that I have an incurable disease? Uhm, nooo. But I do. So since I do shouldn't I be using my experiences to bless someone else? Yes, of course! Do I believe that God can heal me? Why, yes! Am I expectant for his healing? Not really. I don't think it's about my physical healing anymore. If it happens? Praise God! If it doesn't? I know I will be whole and perfect in heaven for all eternity.

I miss my independence. I can't just drive off to any destination, on a whim, by myself anymore.  I have to make sure my husband or kids are in the town I'm traveling too. Monday, for instance, I had my nails done in the town my husband works in. I pinched my finger and the technician put an ointment on it. Within seconds my throat got scratchy. I asked to see the ointment. It had lidocaine in it. Like many with Lupus I've developed unexplainable allergies. I called my husband, popped two Benadryl and sat in his office until the antihistamine kicked in. Next I had to do a nebulizer treatment to open my lungs back up. Did I mention that I left the house without the nebulizer machine? Everywhere I go I have to have that machine, an epipen, Benadryl, rescue migraine medicine, flexeril for random muscle spasms, a coat or jacket for when my circulation stops and my lips and hands turn blue, an emergency card in case I loose speech with contact names and medicines.

I miss being a reliable and spontaneous human being. This past weekend my husband had planned a romantic weekend to the Outer-banks. I woke up Friday with a fever and kidney infection. We cancelled the trip and lost our deposit. I can plan nothing long term. From day to day my symptoms change. One day I'm fine. The next day my legs may feel like sandbags making it impossible to walk unassisted. One week I may be in bed with blinding migraines. One week I may be so visibly filled with fluid that I can wear nothing but sweatpants. One week I may have blisters and sores all over my face and extremities. One day I may have a really ugly updo because that morning I've had a clump of hair fall out exposing sores in my scalp. One morning I may have such debilitating nausea that I have to pop phenegran all day.It makes you sleepy. If I had plans that day I'll have to cancel them. One year I may be bone thin. The next year I may be 30 pounds overweight. I can no longer just go out to dinner and just enjoy. My order becomes a production making sure the chef knows I have a life threatening allergy to shellfish and gluten. My phone beeps to remind me where and when I'm to do something or be somewhere. The brain fog that comes with Lupus is akin, I'm told, to early onset Alzheimer's. I literally have no control of what, why, where or when my body will attack itself.

I've learned who my true friends are. The ones who love me. Know that I may cancel on them 10 minutes beforehand. The ones who call me because they know I often forget to call them. The friends who love me for me. I've learned to appreciate a good day. I'm in awe of God's sunrises and sunsets. I've learned to cherish ordinary moments. Where as a few years ago everything was just a check list. I've learned that being alone sick is not alone. It's a time to intentionally send letters to those you love. It's a time to enjoy reading God's word. It's time to just "be" because I'm still here.

My focus has gone from "why me?" to "why not me?" to "OK, Lord, it is what it is. What do I do with it?" For now, it's eight pills a day. Twice a day. Every single day. Forever. What I choose to do with the circumstance is in my control. Nothing else seems to be. But my response is my choice. Right now I choose to be steadfast. Either way, in the end, I win. Because one day I will meet my Maker. I will fall down in awe of His majesty. And all this? It will be gone.

"Blessed is the man who remains steadfast under trial, for when he has stood the test he will receive the crown of life, which God has promised to those who love him"-James 1:12

That Was Jane

Four years ago tonight I watched my Mother take her last breath. After a long and difficult battle with Parkinson's disease she slipped away as my brother and I held her hands.

My Mother and I rarely saw eye to eye on anything. Except my husband, my children, and my in-laws. She adored each and every one of them. She loved to come visit so she could go to bible study and bridge with my Mother-in-law. Drove me crazy. I wanted her to help with babies--she came to town to socialize. That was Jane. Later in life we called a truce. Eventually agreeing a weekend was a long enough visit. We got along best telephonically. Soft smiles.

I loved my Mother deeply. My love of the South came from my very Southern Mother. Never leaving the house without painted nails and lips? Yep, all Jane. Writing thank you notes within 48 hours? Ditto, Jane Condrey. A belief in God was instilled, I'm sure, at birth by my mother. My love of flowers, art, music, researching, and exploring back roads all come from my Mother. The uncontrollable urge to write review notes in cookbooks after preparing the recipe? That'd be Jane. My need to see perfectly  monogrammed towels and linens in every room of my home? Jane Condrey monogrammed my diaper pins if that gives you any indication.

She has been gone four years. I still have her telephone number saved in my "favorites" list of my iPhone. I use her handwritten recipe cards, even though I know them by memory, at least twice a week. I love seeing her perfectly penned elementary school teacher handwriting on the yellowing cards printed "From the kitchen of Jane Condrey Williams". A day does not pass that something doesn't remind me of her. Ironically, after four years, I often start to call her and then remember I can't. It kind of jolts me back. She is gone.

Our walk with God is very much like our relationship with our loved ones.  We may have periods in our lives where we disagree or question. Or seasons where we feel like we're not in sync. We love deeply.  He is  with us. He is a part of us. Always there. His Royal Blood is running through our veins. Our walk must be intentional. We must choose to put Him first in our lives. We must choose to understand His word. Truly grasp what His word tells us. Understand why He is who He is.

I love the fact that God prepares us for life, not only by our circumstances, but with the people He specifically handpicks to be in our path. I have learned how to navigate the difficult waters of communication with one of my daughters based on my relationship with my Mother. I have had moments of total enlightenment. "Oh, Dear Lord, I sound like Jane! No wonder I drove her crazy!" The older I get? The longer she has been gone?  I think I have finally begun to "get her". To understand her. I love that God, in loss, only brings to memory the funny things. The beautiful moments. He brings clarity and closure.

I miss hearing my Mother say  "I declare" and "I suwannee". I miss not being able to tell her about her Granddaughters milestones. I miss being able to pick up the phone and call her "You'll never believe who I saw today?" I hope you are in heaven sipping your beloved iced tea. Teaching the angels to read. Organizing your next luncheon. I feel certain you've discussed doctrine with Jesus and probably argued with Him. I know you were thrilled to see Daddy again in December. I long for the day when I can see you again. When I can say "thank you" for all of the little idiosyncrasies that, at the time, drove me crazy. As a mother? I now think I understand the method to some of your madness. I love you and miss you every day.

"You are precious to me"-Isaiah 43:4

Keep It Messy

I had a revelation of sorts yesterday. I Googled a home product I was looking for. No joke ten decorating blogs came back in my search engine. I clicked on several. Each blog was a meticulously decorated home with perfect kids, a dog, a perfectly chiseled Daddy, and a ten plus ten Mama. They each blogged about their perfect lives. My first thought was "Dang, Elizabeth, you are doing this Jesus blog thing all wrong! You need to write about how perfect life is. These blogs have serious followers!" Yeah, that thought was gone in a hot second.

Back to my revelation. No wonder young people don't know who they are. They are trying to start their lives mimicking perfection. Immolating perfect meals, decorating, and child rearing. All based on the fantasy life of someone in blog utopia.

Real life, at least as I remember it? Carting kids all over kingdom come. Preschool, elementary school, middle school. Going to the grocery store while my kids were occupied in higher education. Possibly picking up the house. Folding some laundry. Putting groceries away. Catching an occasional lunch with friends. Maybe getting to the gym. Back home getting work done on the computer. Picking up from school. Eating snacks in the car on the way to dance or ball practice. Getting home at six. Trying to cook with one kid coming off their Adderall in a total melt down. Another kid fighting about doing homework. Husband walks into utter chaos. Eat. Tackle nightly baths. Clean up kitchen. Make lunches for the next school day. Time to breath.  Oh wait, nope. Promised  husband a "date night". Jump in shower for the first time in 24 hours. Shave legs for the first time in two weeks. In the bed by 11PM. "Date night" interrupted by at least one child wanting a glass of water. Husband gets out of bed to get said child glass of water. Returns to "date night" only to find me asleep and snoring...and if we're being honest...probably drooling.  Alarm goes off at 5:30AM and the same routine starts the next day. Anyone? Absolutely no perfection what so ever. I wouldn't change one single bit of it either. If anything, I'd change being so married to the calendar. Getting to the next thing on the list. Perfection? Ha! That's laughable.

If I could say anything to young wives and mothers it would be that perfection is unattainable. You will kill your marriage, your relationship with your kids, your self esteem, and your friendships trying to achieve it. Believe me I tried. Life is messy. And it should be. The mess is the good stuff. The mess is where we realize how much we love our husbands. How much we need them. How much we want them. The mess is where we watch our babies achieve milestones. The mess is where we realize we are not perfect. The mess is where we learn what we are made of. And what we are not made of. The mess is where we cry out to God "Lord, what the flip?! This is so hard! Help me, please!" The mess is where humility is born. The mess is where we let go. The mess is where we let God step in. The mess is where we learn that our weakness only means we are getting it right...not wrong like the world wants us to believe. For in that weakness He makes us strong.

In 2 Corinthians 12:9 we read "He said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me."  I freaking love this scripture, don't you?!  Modern day cable news has nothing on being radical. Jesus was radical. Paul  is telling us that God's grace is enough for us. His grace covers our faults, our sins, our weaknesses, our idolatry. When we realize that we don't have to put on heirs? When we recognize we can't do it all? When we admit that we are living a lie? When we confess to Him our sins of trying to be perfect? That's where He meets us! The power of the Holy Spirit is allowed to do great and mighty things through us despite ourselves! Is that not the greatest news ever? Do you feel a weight lifted off your shoulders? When that light bulb went off for me I truly felt a literal rebirth. I was so tired and didn't even realize the extent of it.

My prayer for my grown children is that they have a true revelation of who they are in Christ. Because when we see ourselves as Christ sees us? Pardon my french, the crap, we worry about no longer matters. All that matters is wanting more of Him. With that comes a complete peace. We are able to love deeper. Give freely without resentment. Yes, I still want an architectural digest looking house. It's different now. It is not my idol. It is not my consumption. I don't care if someone has a bigger or better home. I can actually be happy for them because I'm happy with me. My standards are based on the King of Kings. My standards are based on the blood that was shed for me. Not my neighbor, not Instagram, not Facebook, not Bravo, not Glamour. Jesus Christ. Amen?!

So young mothers and wives keep it messy. Perfection is overrated. Love those babies. Hug those necks. Kiss those fat fingers. Steal away in the bathroom with your husband once in awhile. Burn dinner. Run late in carpool. Fold laundry when you can. It is one season in life of many. Live it for Him first. Your weakness will fill you with the Holy Spirit.  You'll be able to love those in your life that matter most. The rest of the crap? It just won't matter.

"Her children arise and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her: 'Many women do noble things, but you surpass them all'."-Proverbs 31:28-29