Facing the Ocean

I’m so blessed to be sitting on a balcony, listening to the ocean as I write this. The sun is burning away the fog over the water and the temperature is slowly rising. Being at the beach in October makes for a slower, cozy morning…

I can’t help but compare the area we are staying in to our typical favorite vacation spots. It makes me feel a bit high-maintenance, but that may be reality. 😬 There are huge buildings lined up along the beach, each with a potential capacity of one thousand people, it seems. Some have a nice-enough feel, others I would name “Trashy Karaoke Resort.” 😂

Many high-rises are old and in need of repair and remodeling. And when you watch the people around said area, it makes you ache a bit. I wonder what their stories are. I wonder who hurt them. I wonder what they’re trying to escape, drown out, and who has been missing in their lives.

But as I ponder these things from my “high balcony” - literally and metaphorically - I pause. These people are no different than the ones where I prefer to stay. Their bank accounts and “look” may be the only things that are truly different. And if I dig even deeper and tap into the depths of my own heart - honestly, they’re no different than me, either. 

Our backgrounds and upbringing may be different. Our appearance and tastes may vary. But how often do I realize I’m also trying to drown out or escape something? How many times do I act out of a place of woundedness rather than healing? How I, too, can find myself living in the voids rather than running to the endless fountain that is my Savior, Who is ever-pursuing my heart!

As I ponder these things, I’m humbled. It also makes me think about how in our journeys - much like this trip I’m on - you have to tune out the noise, the chaos, the ugly. And focus on the beauty in front of you, let go of the burdens that weigh you down, and rest. Enjoy. Make memories. Love. Be filled. 

When I face the ocean, I am in awe, and I take deeper, slower breaths. I think about the power and “bigness” of God and I’m amazed He still cares so intimately about me. If I turn and face the land, I’m easily overwhelmed and distracted. Yet I’m still standing in the same spot. But if my back is to the chaos, I’m in the same world without it pulling me down. I’m focused on what I CAN control: and that is nothing. I’m being calmed, spoken to, and held. 

Whether it’s the culture that seems like a disaster, or aches within my own family that I feel helpless to change, I can be part of it, without it defining me, overtaking my heart, or dictating my days. 

It’s easier said than done, but I pray for God to train my heart to remember to “face the ocean.”

Is Life A Choice?

 

I’ve been really wrestling with putting into words all the swirling thoughts in my head lately. I know what I believe and why, and I am completely unshaken in it. But verbalizing it or writing it down causes me to prayerfully think through the wording: because it’s too huge to debate. (And I hate debates.) It’s too vital to flippantly put out there without being able to discuss it in a healthy way. 

Lately, with the SCOTUS paper that was leaked, abortion has become an even “hotter” topic than normal. Rights are being debated, people are yelling at each other in every way on every outlet, and it’s been reduced to another political issue. 

But guys….it’s just not. It’s too important, too precious. It’s not political; it’s literally fundamental. 

Please hear my heart. I am completely FOR women and FOR equal rights and AGAINST government control in healthcare. But this issue goes far beyond that. It’s more than a choice to be made; it’s understanding that the same “choice” is not acceptable under any other circumstances, so why should it be in this one, isolated point in time?  

At any other stage of life, does the size of a child (or adult) make one more valuable than another? Does the physical or mental development of people cause one to be better than another? I think we can agree we would be appalled at this thought. If a child with special needs was cast aside as worthless, while a child with a higher IQ was elevated and celebrated and given all the opportunities of a valuable human being. One good thing about our progressive culture is that we have supposedly learned to embrace differences. To recognize that appearances and mental and physical abilities don’t determine worth. So why would we literally kill a human based on an earlier stage of development? Didn’t we all begin there?

One thing I’ve always been confused about is that if a pregnant woman is murdered, the charge is “double homicide.” Yet killing only the baby is legal. Why is this? Is a developing baby only truly a developing baby if he or she is wanted? Do our feelings about the baby change the reality of what is happening in the womb? Does the environment denote worth? For instance, was an African-American person less valuable when slavery was the norm than they are now, when slavery has been abolished? We would shudder at this thought! Therefore I think we can agree that we are not valuable based on our environment, but simply because of who we are: a human life, with intrinsic worth. Why is a baby only valuable once it exits the mother’s body, and not before? That belief would essentially say that mere literal inches and seconds magically change something from “a blob of worthless cells” into a human life. Does this not fly in the face of science? 

I want to be clear with my next point: My heart BREAKS for any woman who is a victim of rape or bringing a child into a hopeless-feeling situation. I don’t pretend to relate or understand. I am thankful for people and places that offer hope and help women walk through options and I wholeheartedly believe we need more of of this. Because at the end of the day, ripping a living organism out of a woman’s body is the WORST thing for the woman and only makes a bad situation worse. I am pro-life but I am also pro-woman. They go together. Yes, a baby is completely dependent on the mother for life and that is a heavy reality. But this is also the case once they leave the mother’s body. An infant (or young child, for that matter) is hardly able to care for themself. Does that make them less valuable? Would we dream of murdering a baby in the nursery at a hospital because it is no longer wanted, when it was the very same person moments before, inside the womb? Of course not. So why is the reverse acceptable? 

At the end of the day, the issue isn’t the government telling us women what to do with our bodies; it’s about the government doing its job to protect life. And once a woman is pregnant, she is not the only life in question. It’s not just about her healthcare, it’s about the care of two lives. Do I want the government telling me what to do with my body? No way! But do I appreciate the government having laws that make it illegal for someone to kill me? Absolutely! Why do I get that right but a helpless, developing baby can be legally tortured and slaughtered because a mother doesn’t choose to let him or her live? 

The abortion industry is a very dark place. I encourage you to open your mind and do some research into the agenda behind it. This isn’t an issue of religion or politics or choices. I beg you to think through the core values within us all. Shine the light of logic on the topic of the day. It’s not an isolated issue: We either value all people - regardless of their development, environment, dependency, etc. - or we do not. 

There are options. Options that don’t take away a life of a baby and destroy the life of the mother. So many people are waiting with open, loving arms to adopt a baby. There are amazing places that offer free medical services, kindness, and practical encouragement and equipping that you will NEVER find at an abortion clinic. There is help available and more needed. Help that injects hope into overwhelming situations.  

At the end of the day, the issue we are dealing with is that size, development, environment, and dependency are not what determines value. I know there are very loud voices that want to reduce this foundational issue to a choice and try to convince us that a developing baby is merely a blob of cells. But that isn’t science. A baby’s heartbeat can be detected within 5-6 weeks of conception. There are many other fascinating scientific facts about when each developmental milestone takes place. And we all started here. Because we experienced our fundamental human right: the right to live. 

In closing, I’ll say again that I am pro-woman and pro-life. I am also pro-having choices; but at the end of the day, is terminating life truly a choice that is ours to make? “My body, my choice,” yes. But when another body is dependent on mine for life - at 2 weeks gestation or 2 years post-birth - it’s no longer about my choice. He or she deserves to live. Period. 

My fellow humans: may we protect life at all stages, as the progressive Americans we claim to be. 

The Harmonious Fight

I am not a musically gifted person. I have family members and many friends who are, but I’m more the “sing in a group or in the car so no one can really hear me” type. Yet I dearly love music. It’s a primary method of worship for me; it makes me dance; it brings tears and emotions words can’t express at times; it unearths memories otherwise nearly forgotten. 

But I’m not a musician. 

However, I noticed one day while singing (in the car, alone) and attempting to harmonize with the guy on the radio, that I do much better when I’m focused on the melody. When I don’t try to essentially make the harmony a song in and of itself, in my efforts to hear and sing it. The result is harmony more naturally happening and complimenting the melody of the lead singer because I am trying to tune out myself and primarily hear him. 

Then it hit me: This is an analogy for love! Specifically in marriage. And convictingly, for me.

How often am I so focused on my “part” - my needs, my desires, my opinions - that I miss out on the beauty that comes from the two-part harmony in my marriage? It’s a sweet mystery how when I am more intent on the needs, desires, wounds, longings, etc., of my husband, we live a far more joyful song. 

And if you’ll allow me to carry this analogy just a bit further….have you ever heard a song with three-part harmony? This blows my non-musician but music-loving mind. I feel like I’m swept away to a different dimension when I hear a gifted trio singing; three different parts, but beautifully blended. 

This. I believe this is what marriage is TRULY intended to be. A three-part gig. With the Holy Spirit being the leading melody that we are created to be tuned to. Both following His lead, and our spouse in our close peripheral. 

“And where does this leave me,” you might ask? “What about my needs?”

That’s the thing. I am not silent. I am still singing. I am still called to be authentic and I’m still heard. God doesn’t call anyone to be a doormat whose only purpose is to collect dirt and be abused and eventually thrown out.

But what He does call both spouses to be, is less. Less aware of self. Less assured I know my spouse’s heart. Less focused on his sin rather than my own. Less determined for things to look how I want them to, even if it’s a “good” thing. Less. 

Have you ever heard people singing and the one (supposedly) singing harmony is far louder than the person singing melody? It sounds off-balance. The melody of the song is lost. And the song is definitely not pleasant to the ear. 

I fear so many marriages today - even, or might I say, ESPECIALLY, Christian marriages - are “off” without even realizing why. Joy is missing, affection is rare, and grace is forgotten. I can only imagine how this breaks God’s heart, being the author of marriage and its beautiful, allegorical design. 

I’m not a musician and I’m also no psychologist! But I have a theory: I fear we have forgotten what love is because we have forgotten Who God is. We are believing lies without even realizing it. We’re buying into our culture’s diluted and polluted version of love. In an effort to justify sin and spiritualize selfishness, we are jumping on board a lie presented as truth and losing our hearts in the resulting wreckage. And it’s a tragedy. We are allowing Satan to succeed in destroying our marriages (therefore families). We preach against sinful sexual lifestyles and yet give the world no attractive alternative. We may stay married, but it’s a miserable existence, turning our children against marriage by our actions. Or we divorce because “God wants me to be happy,” or because the other person “has problems” or because “we have become different people.” 

Now are there situations of a legitimate unrepentant spouse who is inflicting constant emotional or physical abuse and God provides and leads a way out? Yes. I’ve seen this. And it’s been clear it’s needed and is how God is leading. But this is by far the exception. Unfortunately, the norm is a pattern that started long before the breaking point. Usually with both parties at fault. But regardless of the specific details, the tragic part to me is the lack of fight. The giving up when it gets “too hard” or a “last straw” is uncovered. 

I’m convinced premarital counseling needs to be full of instruction to “suit up.” To start the marriage on the defensive. But not with each other; rather, armed and determined to stay on high alert TOGETHER against our common enemy. Who roams around, seeking whom he may devour and deceive. 

But Hallelujah, we aren’t battling alone!! We have a conquering King on our side who has already ultimately won the war and equips us to fight the battles. And with each battle, we’re stronger and more bonded together. But we HAVE to be on the same side. We have to fight the true enemy and fight in harmony, tuned to our Leader. 

The freedom found in the abandonment of self-awareness brings a joy that is hard to put into words. I know this only because I can compare it to times when I’m obsessed with my own part of the trio. When I’m determined the harmony part needs to be heard loudly and I end up off-key and ruining the whole song. 

But when I allow the Spirit to lead and I contentedly sing along with the precious gift that is my husband, the peace and unity is beautiful. Is it always easy? No way. Is it worth the fight? Oh my. Yes. So worth it. 

That’s the only way our home can be harmonious and most importantly, how we point to the Lord and His sufficiency and grace. And not to show off how wonderful marriage is (though it truly can be). But to show how amazing HE is and be a picture of the relationship He longs to have with us, His bride. 

My prayer for the Church today is a stripping away of self. An authenticity and awakening to Truth. And a major place this needs to happen is within our marriages and families. Sexuality is the hot topic of the day in our culture and a God-glorifying marriage is one of the best ways to illustrate the beauty of God’s design. 

So let’s fight….to sing. In breathtaking harmony, with abandon, tuned to our faithful Leader. Holding hands as a couple walking together into battle, knowing True Love is worth the fight. 

And worth the singing. 

Sinking

As I sit down to try to put some of my thoughts and emotions into words so they don’t continue to suffocate me, my son is playing and singing.

“Oh how He loves us, oh how He loves us, how He loves us so…”

I stopped to close my eyes and beg God to sink that Truth down in my soul once more. Deeper. For it to be more overwhelming than what I’m feeling right now.

I’ve been sensing lately that I am again doing what I tend to do at times: sinking. I hate this pattern in my life. I don’t want to be this way. But I recognize that it happens more than it should. It doesn’t happen in crisis: that tends to send me desperately running to my Father for comfort and fortress. It happens in the day-to-day, mundane, unchanging times. Not in the middle of the raging storm, but in the lingering rain that seems never-ending. When sunlight seems a distant memory.

This year has stunk so far. I’ll just be honest. It has been the greatest reminder of just how sin-infused and unfair this life is. Are we promised fair or easy? No, the opposite. But it doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt or we don’t grow weary in the middle of it. And it doesn’t mean I don’t get frustrated with how I’m currently dealing with it. Rather than staying desperate and on my face and begging God to hold me up and give me His strength, I’ve grown numb. I have let my exhaustion turn me into a spiritual vegetable. I am seemingly unable to express much. But I can only do this for so long. Because my sweet, merciful Savior pulls me out of my funk and shows me what a daze I’ve been in. This time it hit me out of nowhere while I was pulling weeds in the flowerbeds.

I should have seen it coming: I’ve been far too passionate about landscaping lately. I’ve reassessed everything I’ve planted over the last two years, decided most of it looked stupid, and dug up and re-planted most of it. I’ve literally put blood, sweat, and tears (and money) into the dirt around our house. I am generally pleased with the results and I have the sunburn and aching muscles to show how much time I put into it! My babies enjoyed helping me and it was good for all of us to work and soak in the awakening of the earth that is spring. But the best thing to come from my week of acting like a crazy person is the way God whispered to me when I was working alone.

It started when I was planting something new and hoping it would do well in that location. And wishing I could send John a text to ask his advice, like I have done multiple times a year – especially in the spring – over the past eleven years. That’s when the tears began to fall. That’s when I began to pull up a whole bunch of weeds with a vengeance. Flashbacks to different moments over the past 2 ½ months started to play like a video in my head that I couldn’t stop. Each weed I jerked out of the ground was like a particular memory that I wanted to remove from my head – and from being real! – and toss into the trash pile. Death is such a thief. And the most vivid reminder of the result of sin in this world. The epitome of pain and unfairness and helplessness.

“And God, it doesn’t stop there…” as I continued watering the dirt with my sudden tears. “There’s this other relationship I have to grieve now… and these people who need you and won’t accept your love…and this longing for something good that isn’t being fulfilled…and worry about this person’s health…and the kitten we rescued died…and…and…”

I continued to basically complain to God about all the things that have happened in the last three months. What I realized is that though it was a range of things, they all had something in common: pain. From horrible and life-altering loss, all the way down to minor worries. It hurts and I don’t like it.

The only thing we can control – often the only choice we have in the midst of pain – is how we respond.  I have been letting the pain from multiple directions send me into a “going through the motions” way of dealing with life; and it caught up with me. Rather than continuing to stay desperate for God, I have let the circumstances around me be like quicksand, causing me to gradually sink down further and further. Before I knew it, I had sunk down into a blurry existence. Hardly what I am called to. Hardly what glorifies God. Hardly the example I am supposed to be. Hardly what will allow me to be any kind of help to anyone around me – the very people that it hurts so badly to watch be in such pain!

So what is the answer? I can’t change the circumstances and I can’t even change my response on my own. Even if I wanted to “pull myself up by my bootstraps,” which isn’t exactly the right response either, I’m past that point. My heart is weary to the point that my body is reflecting it. And as I was processing all of this, God whispered the answer to me by reminding me of this verse:

“From the end of the earth I call to You, when my heart is overwhelmed and weak;         

Lead me to the rock that is higher than I [a rock that is too high to reach without Your help].” (Psalm 61:2AMP)

Once again, the words of David are the cry of my own heart. I am overwhelmed and weak – and feel guilty for feeling overwhelmed and weak! The result of me not staying desperate and dependent on God for my very breath has brought me to this point of feeling desperate. Just in a much more complicated and pain-full manner. It’s all so ironic. Yet in the midst of it, I see the mercy of God to show me my heart and my need for Him in a fresh way.

I don’t want to sink. I want to constantly cling to Him. But I’m SO VERY THANKFUL that when I am weak – even when it’s a result of my own sin! – He is strong and doesn’t stop holding me. And will lead me to a place I can’t climb to on my own. I can only sink like a rock on my own. But He leads me to The Rock: Himself.

Oh how He Loves me, indeed.

Forgive and...Remember Why

Today I was contemplating how much harder it is to forgive someone who isn't sorry for what they did to hurt you, than someone who is. 
And especially when the same hurt or offense is recurring. That's when it is a constant battle to keep forgiving; to not keep wallowing in it, mulling it over, and become angry and bitter. It is so much easier, in most cases, if the person is broken over their sin and repentant and seeking reconciliation. The slate is much simpler to wipe clean.

Then the most stunningly beautiful Truth hit me in the heart. Tears flowed as I realized what the Spirit was pointing to:

Jesus didn't wait for us to realize our sin and repent and show remorse. He - WHILE we were dead in our trespasses...WHILE we were YET SINNERS - died for us. He paid the highest price to forgive us and wipe away our wrongs, which were done ultimately against Him. He did this BEFORE. It was done. Finished. FIRST.

And yet I hesitate to forgive others?! I forget what was done for me before I even accepted the gift of it. Before I even realized my need.

Oh. And I also forget that the people I'm struggling to forgive are also forgiven, if they accept it. Their sins are covered by the same blood that cover mine. Their sin against me - which is ultimately against our holy God - is forgiven by that same God. Yet I think I have a right to hold onto it? Me, a fellow sinner? Me, who is just as experienced at being a stubborn, blind, selfish human?
Sure, it might look different. And in His grace maybe God has opened my eyes to certain things that they haven't yet seen. But even that is a gift! Not something I could have done on my own.

What if, instead of sulking around in the filthy rags of my self-perceived righteousness, I put that energy into praying that the person's heart would be softened to receive that grace I so desperately continue to need. What if I lay it down - however many times I need to - at the feet of the One Who forgave me?

Now do I still need to acknowledge the pain? Yes. That's the only way true forgiveness can happen. Do I need to grieve over a broken relationship or shattered expectations and hopes? Of course. That's the only way healing can begin. But does that mean I wait for an apology or remorse or reconciliation or change before forgiving? No. That would require a response from someone I have no control over. I am only responsible for my own response and attitude, and that is quite a full time job on it's own, thank you very much.

My Daddy used to love what Pastor Charles Swindoll wrote about the effect of our attitudes. We had it posted on a kitchen cabinet for years when I was growing up. It made an impression on me and it's something I try to teach my children. But I had never really thought about it in light of forgiveness...

"The longer I live, the more I realize the impact of attitude on life. Attitude, to me, is more important than facts. It is more important than the past, the education, the money, than circumstances, than failure, than successes, than what other people think or say or do. It is more important than appearance, giftedness or skill. It will make or break a company...a church...a home. The remarkable thing is we have a choice everyday regarding the attitude we will embrace for that day. We cannot change our past...we cannot change the fact that people will act in a certain way. We cannot change the inevitable. The only thing we can do is play on the one string we have, and that is our attitude. I am convinced that life is 10% what happens to me and 90% of how I react to it. And so it is with you. We are in charge of our attitudes."

When I read this while thinking about forgiveness, I was struck by how much it applies. How both forgiveness (or a lack thereof) and our attitudes, are a response to something.  How both are a constant choice and point to the state of our hearts.

And both are a one-way street: It doesn't depend on others. It begins and ends with us. We pray for and seek after reconciliation. But that part has to be reciprocated; forgiveness does not. 

In truth, it's less about the person who has wronged us and more about the One who commanded and equips us to forgive. Our forgiveness toward others is an act of obedience and gratefulness for the mercy He has shown us.

The fact that Jesus set us the Example of all examples in this area is the main reason to make the choice to forgive. 

However frequently. 

No matter the other party's desire to have it or their recognition of a need for it. Forgiveness must be there, waiting, because of Whose we are. 

Because He forgave us...first.

"...bearing graciously with one another, and willingly forgiving each other if one has a cause for complaint against another; just as the Lord has forgiven you, so should you forgive. Beyond all these things put on and wrap yourselves in [unselfish] love, which is the perfect bond of unity [for everything is bound together in agreement when each one seeks the best for others]. Let the peace of Christ [the inner calm of one who walks daily with Him] be the controlling factor in your hearts [deciding and settling questions that arise]. To this peace indeed you were called as members in one body [of believers]. And be thankful [to God always]." 

Colossians 3:13-15

The Process of Hope

I’ve heard people say they go to a grave of a loved one to talk to them. To feel close to them somehow.

I don’t.

Nothing reminds me of the distance between my Daddy and me more than the gut-punch every time I see his name in a slab of stone in the ground.

So it seemed crazy to me when I realized that in the hardest moments in life - when I miss him the most - is when I go to the cemetery. Or when I at least feel the desire to run there. I first dismissed it as just needing a good cry in a place where no one was around to ask me what’s wrong or be upset by my tears. Or ask me for a snack for the upteenth time, when I’m trying to have a meltdown over here, geez!

 But that’s not it. And this morning, God sweetly pointed out what it IS. I don’t occasionally run to a graveyard simply for a good cry in the peace and quiet of the country. No... I do it because my heavenly Father is urging me there: Because God often takes us to the place of our deepest pain in order to meet us. And bring some healing.

See...I went there yesterday. In the pouring rain. If I hadn’t been in such a miserable state, I might have thought it seemed like a good movie scene: sitting at a cemetery, in a pretty, country setting, hot tears mixing with cold rain drops, etc. But in reality, I looked like a sobbing wet dog, and I was annoyed at the wild turkey in the field nearby who didn’t have the decency to stop eating and leave me alone.

But I stayed for a while. I cried out to God - I asked Him "why" again. I told Him I really still needed my Daddy. I confessed I didn't have the strength to keep on keeping on in some areas of life right now. I admitted (again) that even though it's probably really immature, I felt like it wouldn't be quite as hard if Daddy was still here.

This is what struck me this morning: 99% of the time I was there yesterday, I was talking to GOD. Not Daddy. And then I just sat and listened. I didn't hear a voice from heaven and I didn't feel strength flood me. I felt spent. I still felt weak. But I eventually quit crying AS much and began shivering SO much, that I left. And I drove home in a state of more peace. It's funny, because what I didn't realize at the moment was I HAD been strengthened. Simply from Him meeting me. I saw this in my responses as the day went on; I was surprised by it because I knew it wasn't ME or MY strength!

I sense His presence often, but there are times where I don't. I FEEL like He's absent. (He never is.) I believe these times are ways of Him loving me just as well as any other - it's just not fun. Often, He's letting me see things about my heart that I didn't want to see. Things I need to confess; things I need to let go; things I need to forgive; things I value above Him; things in which I need healing.

He's let a series of circumstances happen recently to bring me to this point. And honestly, I let myself get into a pretty depressed state. I've found that no matter how much I sometimes wish it were the case, He doesn't usually snap His fingers and everything looks great. It's not a "wake up one morning and suddenly it all makes sense and sunshine and rainbows appear" kind of thing. It can be really dark before the sunlight starts to seep through the clouds. Because it's a process; real and lasting and true results happen through process. Sometimes I hate that word. Kind of like "waiting." I prefer words like "instant" and "sudden." I'd like the microwave version of heart-change, thank you very much.
But that's not how our wise and loving Father works. Because He wants the real deal. The best. Purity; which only happens through intense heat. A process.

For me the place of deepest pain is at the grave of my father - my hero, confidant, encourager, kindred spirit, and best friend since I was tiny. I know I am incredibly blessed to have had this when so many people do not. The flip side of that is that it still hurts like hell when it's been almost 7 years since we said goodbye.
But for you the place of deepest pain may be totally different. There may not be a physical marker to run to and have a good cry. It may be a wound invisible to anyone else. But it's NO less real! Regardless of what it looks like, we all live in a fallen world and have pain. No one's is the exact same as another's, but we have pain in common. The blessing of this is that we can encourage each other at the root. As someone I love and admire greatly, said: "Suffering is suffering." (George Waller)

The biggest joy in the midst of the pain is that we have a constant reminder to press in to the heart and arms of Jesus. No, we wouldn't have chosen the trial or the loss or the hurt. But if we don't run from it - and instead let it be the "entry-point" where the Great Physician has ready access to our hearts in order to bring healing and wellness - our joy and contentment will be real.
Will life be easy? Um, probably not.
Will the hurt magically vanish? No, it still happened.
Will the one we miss come back? I wish.
But we will have peace. Regardless. Through the only one Who won't hurt or disappoint or leave. 

Ironically, for the last few weeks the song I have set to play on my phone as my alarm each morning is "I Have This Hope," by Tenth Avenue North. It sums it up better than all these words I've just typed. But I needed to. I needed to process as part of the process. :) Thank you for indulging me.

I leave you with the lyrics...and pray they sink deeply into our souls so we have True Hope on a daily basis.

As I walk this great unknown 

Questions come and questions go 

Was there purpose for the pain? 

Did I cry these tears in vain? 

I don't want to live in fear 

I want to trust that You are near 

Trust Your grace can be seen 

In both triumph and tragedy 

I have this hope 

In the depth of my soul 

In the flood or the fire 

You're with me and You won't let go 

But sometimes my faith feels thin 

Like the night will never end 

Will You catch every tear 

Or will You just leave me here? 

But I have this hope 

In the depth of my soul 

In the flood or the fire 

You're with me and You won't let go 

Yes, I have this hope 

In the depth of my soul 

In the flood or the fire 

You're with me and You won't let go 

So, whatever happens I will not be afraid 

Cause You are closer than this breath that I take 

You calm the storm when I hear You call my name 

I still believe that one day I'll see Your face 

I have this hope 

In the depth of my soul 

In the flood or the fire 

You're with me 

I have this hope 

In the depth of my soul 

In the flood or the fire 

You're with me and You won't let go 

In the flood or the fire 

You're with me and You won't let go 

In the flood or the fire You're with me and You won't let go

The truth is in the tasting...

"Taste and see that the LORD is good..."

Psalm 34:8a

As a result of a conversation with a friend today, and her sharing with me an experience that God used recently to bring this verse to life, He gave me a really cool analogy....

Ya know how when you see a picture of, let's say, an exotic dessert...or you see it displayed in a bakery case...many times you assume that it is good. Either because it holds an ingredient that you have tasted and know you like (chocolate, for instance), or someone else told you they liked it, or maybe simply because it is beautifully designed or has an inviting aroma -- but you feel pretty safe assuming it's a good dessert.

Think about it though: do you REALLY know that? Have you experienced it? Can you really know until you actually taste it?

I don't know about you, but I've tasted some pretty bland stuff that looks beautiful, and I've had some rather sloppy-looking concoctions that tasted amazing. If you can relate to this, which one would you automatically choose between if they were side-by-side: the one that you knew was delicious or the one that simply had a better appearance? And why would you probably choose that one? Because you KNOW that it is good; you have tasted it.

Now the other one may very well taste great. Might be really good. But until it's more than sight and/or smell, until you taste it, you simply cannot know for sure. Oh but when you do, when you dive in and experience it, you know. And every time you see it thereafter, it stands out. Seems to call to you.

This is a very imperfect analogy, I know, but there are some similarities that kind of helped me wrap my mind around the truth of the verse.

We can say that God is good. We can hear others say it and agree. Many of us have said it since we were small. But I'm afraid I sometimes keep it on the meaningfulness level of the childish poem/prayer: "God is great, God is good." Yeah, ok. He's good. Sure. I believe that.

But do I? Do I really know that -- or do I just know I am supposed to say it?

Like with the dessert picture, how can I know if I don't experience it? Is it something that I am assuming is true but too busy to stop and taste for myself? Or have I tasted it and now, every time I see it, I long to taste it again? Because I know. It's not just head knowledge. I know it.

One thing that is certain: Our Lord's goodness is all around us. Every day. Sometimes it just gets down to a decision to experience it. And above all else, amidst all else, the most glorious proof of His goodness stands tall: the Cross.

I encourage you to know, to experience -- to taste!! --and see that our God is so very good. Only then can this truth seep down into our souls and flow to every area of life.

Now with cakes and such, you may be disappointed sometimes. The result of tasting may be

seeing that it is actually a very bad creation, or a bad batch.

But never so with God. Each time you "taste and see"....it only gets better!