Thursday, March 31, 2011


“I am like a little child who doesn’t know (her) way around.” 1 Kings 3:7b

Today I am breathing in uncertainty and exhaling indecision.

The time separating lost and found seems like an eternity.


A frightening word and a familiar feeling.

Lost in a crowd of pain. Health challenges threaten to block my view of a hope and a future. Like Zacchaeus, I'm looking for a tree to climb.

Lord, right now I am that little child. Unexpected winds have blown me off course. Surrounded by unknown, I am directionless and disoriented. I can’t find my bearings. Questions fill my days and haunt hours of restlessness. Caught in a cycle of unending circumstances, I’m wandering aimlessly.

My life is defined right now by instability. The wind is blowing. It's not a gentle wind that lifts wisps of hair and caresses my face. It's a billow desiring to force me off my feet. A current from an area of high pressure air to an area of low pressure petitions to move joy to despair. A gale of doubt longs to bend my attitude and carry away all strength in its movement. As I watch the flag outside being whipped in wind’s embrace, my life feels so beaten and defeated. How can one stand against such unrelenting power?

A call to the Surgeon's office brings winds of change.

Uncertainty collides with faith.

Test results return.

Surgery dates are changed.

A violent storm of impending danger is on the horizon. I pray for the weather to change and the forecast to be kind.

Voices beckon me offering advice. Too many choices. Too many demands. Each decision leaves someone disappointed. Impossible to please and satisfy everyone. And what about me? Where is Your purpose as I meander down paths of pain? This is foreign territory and I’m a stranger in the land.

Lord, I’m searching for answers. I reach for the compass of Your Word, as mine lays shattered at my feet. You are my true North. You alone know the way out of the forest of confusion. Let one leaf fall to guide my way. Give me eyes to see. In my self-consumed thoughts, don’t let me step over this marker unnoticed. May the sound of crunching beneath my feet break through my bewilderment, as creation grabs my attention and points me to You. Help me navigate through feelings and faith, keeping my eyes fixed on You, the bright and morning Star.

I am so small. Life seems so big. You surpass them all. Take my hand Lord and show me the way.

"I'm a little lamb who's lost in the wood...oh how I need, Someone to watch over me." (Gershwin)

Footnote: Through my current health challenge, God is daily drawing my heart to His. This post was written as a scholarship submission for the She Speaks Conference, a wonderful weekend of opportunity where women's hearts connect with the heart of our Heavenly Father. This scholarship is being offered by Ann Voskamp through the generous donation of Cecil Murphy. You can read about this opportunity here: a holy experience It is my desire to follow and serve the Lord wherever He leads.

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Wednesday, March 9, 2011

Come To the Garden

"Lots a things that looks dead are just biding their time." (Dickon, "The Secret Garden".)

Recently I attended a live, musical production of "The Secret Garden". There's something about that story that captivates my heart. Finding a key that opens the door to a place where dormant desires come alive. For me, "She Speaks" was the key that opened my heart to gifts and passions the Lord had planted in the garden of my soul.

I first attended "She Speaks" in 2005. I wandered in quite lost, but over the course of the weekend found myself, and my dreams. I had "flowers" that were "wick” deep in the soil of the gifts the Lord had planted in me. They had sat idle and isolated, but were alive and now given the opportunity to grow. God sees even the tiniest of flowers and He began watering the seed with the excellence of mentors who had long sat and prepared with the Master Gardener.

Caring for a garden takes effort and work. Throughout the conference the bark and thistles of doubt, fear, discouragement and inadequacy were cut back and pruned. Dead parts were cleared away giving room for tender buds of courage and confidence to bloom. The earth was loosened to let Sonshine warm the roots and feel the cool and gentle rain on the dream seeds God hand planted.

It takes courage to sprout out of the ground. It's safer below, but God's Word tells us not to hide our talents. Maybe all we can see right now is a single streak of green growth beneath the earth’s surface, "but when a thing is wick it has a will to grow, and grow." Deep down longings have been hiding through the darkest night, just waiting for such a time as this, the right time to be seen. Hosea 3:23 reminds me that God says, “I will plant her for myself in the land…” I am a planting of the Lord.

Each time I have come to the conference, the Lord has planted another seed. This year my desire to attend is two-fold. Yes, I still hold on to a silly notion of one day being a published author. But, quite honestly, this year, spiritually speaking, the garden of my heart has experienced some difficult tilling and is in need of some fertilizing.

I understand that ground needs to be cultivated and ploughed for growth to occur, but that doesn’t mean we have to enjoy the process. I stare at the date required for the submission of these scholarship entries, realizing that day, March 11, 2011, for the first time, I am scheduled to meet with an oncologist at the hospital to discuss further findings and possible treatment. An adversary has trespassed on garden ground that is not his, trying desperately to snatch the seed within me. My life feels more like a forsaken, forgotten garden. Registering for the conference this year, when the winds of uncertainty are blowing over this fallow field, is a huge step of faith. I hear the huffing and puffing of the enemy who longs to steal, kill and destroy. Oh how I pray the forecast ahead will be kind.

I lean into the swirling flow of nature’s energy and listen. I have a loving, powerful God who can produce vineyards and fruit in places of wilderness. There is growth to be born and birthed in this current climate. He will come to me like the spring rain, bringing a downpour of peace and joy. Fear wants to leave the soil barren, but faith issues an invitation to come to the garden, whispering that God is creating a new variety of flower, one whose season it is to bloom in the middle of a miracle.

("Wick" is a term used frequently in 'The Secret Garden'. It is used to describe something that still has the hope of life inside.)

This post was written as a submission for the She Speaks Scholarship opportunity.

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