Monthly Archives: January 2017

The Weight


Do you ever just feel the weight of your own sin?  Does the heaviness of it just loom in the air you breathe.  Does it just sit there, suffocating, waiting for you to acknowledge your brokenness?

I feel this.

Sometimes life has a way of just happening.  It feels out of control.  If feels as if everything is crumbling around you, and you have no idea why.  It comes at you from every direction, and you feel like you are reliving the same nightmare over and over again.  And you can’t figure it out.

When this happens to me, I usually take a step back and really examine myself and my actions.  Am I causing all this?  Did I say the wrong thing?  Did I make a mistake?  Because when I’m the common denominator, I have to be willing to admit that I might be the problem – or at least part of it.

But the thing is, and I’m being blatantly honest here, I just don’t see it.  I don’t see how it’s my fault.  I don’t see that I did anything wrong.  I don’t see that I said anything I shouldn’t have said, or behaved in a way that was less than Christian.  I’m not saying at all that I haven’t been wrong, I’m simply saying that I don’t see it.

So where does that leave me?

Well, it leaves me confused, mostly.  But it also leaves wanting to be a better person.  It drives me to become a better version of who I am.  It leaves on my knees praying to God to mold me into something more beautiful.

It’s a scary thing to ask God to help you become a better person.  Because He will.  And it’s probably going to be painful.  I’m learning that when I want to push for understanding, or scream in anger He wants me to practice self control, gentleness, kindness.  He wants me to put my flesh aside and submit to His way of doing things.  OUCH!

Human nature is strong, friends.  No matter how ‘good’ I am, my human nature will always vie for control.  I will always fight against it.  It will always be a choice to do what He would want vs. what would satisfy my human desire.  But what I know is that when I do choose to follow God’s words, and handle situations the way He would, the outcome is always better.  It’s always better.  My way is no good.  So even if I’m justified in the things I’ve said and done, it still may be wrong in the eyes of God.  Even if I don’t see it, He does.

I’m still learning this lesson.  It’s tough.  My prayer is that it will become easier as time goes on, and my sinful human nature will become weaker as my desire to please God grows stronger.


It’s a Choice to Love


Why do you choose not to hear me?  Why do you choose not to see me?  But instead to turn your eyes away, to turn your heart away.  Why does it anger you when I speak about it?  Why do you have such doubt?  Do you not believe what I say?  Do you not trust my words?  I thought we were friends.  I thought we had the kind of relationship that could handle honesty.  One that could handle hurt and real life.

If I had cancer, would you accept me, then?  If I was dying, would you believe me, then?  If I had no hair so you could see my sickness?  If I was emaciated as it wrecked my body?  But I don’t.  I have only my words to tell you of my disease.  But it’s no less real.  It’s no less painful.  It’s no less relentless.  I need doctors, just the same.  I need help, just the same.

I hope you never feel the pain I’ve felt.  I hope you never understand it like I do.  I hope it never touches you like it has touched me.

But if you could choose to believe it’s real it would make a difference to those of us who do know it and feel it.  When you look into someone’s eyes, knowing they don’t understand, it’s so lonely and isolating.  But when they throw an arm around you anyway, you know the love they have for you.  You know they stand by you – not because they’ve been there and understand where you are – but because they love you and want to help you.

It’s hard.  It’s frustrating.  Nobody said it would be easy to support someone like me.  I know this.  I know the pain it causes those who watch.  I know the helplessness they feel.  I know the anger they feel when they just want me to get better already.  I know.  I get it.  But they stay anyway.  They choose to love me, even when it’s difficult.

It’s a choice to love us, to love me.



I recently expressed to some friends that I was truly dreading my next birthday, as the big 4-0 looms ever so close.  When I think about being forty, it takes my breath away for a moment.  But it’s not for the reasons you may think.

I really don’t care much about getting older.  The wrinkles.  The grey hair.  The slower metabolism, aches and pains, forgetfulness…all of that.  I mean, these things aren’t great, but they don’t really bother me.

In fact, as I grow older, so do my children.  I love seeing the young adults they are turning into.  I’m excited to see what comes of their futures.  I look forward to grandchildren…someday!  And, retirement from the military is just around the corner.  Hallelujah!!!!

So, good things come with getting older.


I’m overwhelmed with thoughts that I’ve done nothing with my life.  I know this isn’t true.  I know these are lies from the devil.  I know I’ve been doing important things at home – raising children, and supporting my husband.  I know these things.  Yet, I still struggle.

The world’s standards tell us if we don’t have a fulfilling career that we aren’t successful.  When I meet new people and they ask me what I do, I don’t know what to say.  It isn’t that I don’t do things.  I do TONS of things.  I’m always busy.  But I don’t have a career.  I don’t even have a job.  I don’t have an office.  I don’t have a desk.  I don’t have a work number, email address, or business card.

One day it will be my time to go out and work.  While I’m excitedly looking forward to that, I’m also scared to death.  I fear that I will be laughed at for being so old and not having any working experience.  I envision being asked what I’ve done with my life.  I envision my resume going into the trash before I even have a chance at the job.  It’s terrifying, really.

So, yeah…40 is daunting.  And I’m totally freaked out about it.

As the big day approaches, I just keep holding onto the truth that God loves me, and that what I’ve done in life has been important.  I don’t need a fancy title and a paycheck to provide worth to my life.  I’ll keep reminding myself of these things everyday until it finally sinks in.