But What About When He Doesn't?

As soon as I lay back in my bed last night...............after writing my last post...........I thought.....

But what about when God doesn't heal?

What then?

A Healer who doesn't heal?

What to say to that?

And I have been a Christian long enough that I know all the phrases and words of comfort and what you are "supposed" to say, they can flow right off the tongue and there is truth to those words but sometimes they are not a comfort.

Because we all want healing for those we love and for ourselves.

And this weekend we are remembering.

We are remembering two who were not healed, who are not with us.

And it's hard.

Two years ago I got the call.  Two years.  She should be two years old.

But instead she remains a baby to us all and we give out sunflowers, rather than birthday presents, this weekend each year.  An idea formed by my brother and his wife, a way to celebrate and remember their girl, Adalyn Joy, on her birthday each year.

A girl, a baby who was prayed for and wished for and loved upon for so much longer than she was here on earth.

Tomorrow we are walking...........for a heart baby, who just a year ago was being prayed for and had been wished for and was being loved upon.  He spent three weeks here on earth.  And during those three weeks there were so many voices being raised in prayer, voices crying out for healing and miracles.

Please, God, please.

And yet...............this weekend we are remembering these babies, rather than holding these little ones.

What now?

Now?

Now I remember the words of the preacher man who one year ago today was reading the passage about foolishness in 1 Corinthians.  I was a weepy mess the entire service.  I had come with my big bunch of sunflowers, ready to give them out, trying to find a way to convey the grief we were feeling and yet the JOY we were feeling in knowing Jesus and in knowing that Adalyn has a savior and is with her savior.  How do you explain celebrating the death of one so young and so loved and so hoped for?

"For the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God."
                          - 1 Corinthians 1:19

And yesterday..........I sat, with my bible opened, and I read those words again - the message of the cross is foolishness.......but to those who are being saved it is the POWER OF GOD.

Our belief is not in the healing but in the HEALER.

Our belief is not contingent on outcome but on the knowledge of who GOD is.

Our belief must seem foolish to so many.

Our belief is not that life is lived, exclusively, in the here and now but that life is everlasting.

"But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong.  He chose the lowly things of this world and the despised things - and the things that are not - to nullify things that are....." 
                           - 1 Corinthians 1:27-28

And so this weekend we are foolishly celebrating the life of Adalyn Joy.  We are foolishly spreading JOY to those around us through sunflowers and good deeds and kindness and thoughtfulness because the message of the life of Adalyn Joy is found in the message of the cross.

Adalyn Joy is healed.  Adalyn Joy is saved.

And it is through the power of God that may believe this and we may rejoice in her life.

Inconceivable

It starts small...........just a tiny throbbing, really.

I ignore it.

Because, really, it seems I will never learn.

This was last night.........I fall asleep thinking that I will be fine in the morning, right?

I wake up.

The throbbing is still there.

By 10am, all the kids are all gone, I am in the midst of tomatoes, pesto rolls and cleaning......and the throbbing has grown.

So I take a pill and there is a bit of relief.

But by late afternoon it is back and growing.  I take another pill.

The pain continues to grow and I continue to ignore the vice grip on my head until it is time for the kids to start the bedtime process with Joe.

I am stubborn but migraines are more stubborn.

The light hurts.

I am squinting.

The pain just keeps growing.

The waves of nausea come.

Until I am in the bathroom...........throwing up.........thinking that if I don't keep holding the sides of my head, it might split apart, exploding with the pain.

I am shaking.

I make it back to the bedroom.

Joe comes in and looks at me with sympathy but that look that also says you know this happens......why are you so stubborn?

I just look up and ask him to rub my neck.

As an afterthought I ask him to pray.

He does both.

As he prays he calls upon the name of Jesus.  He asks that whatever is causing this, whatever evil might be causing this to be gone, in the name of Jesus.

At that very moment it's as if a valve is opened, a hole is opened and the pain begins a slow leak out, it's leaving my body.

Where once before I was tense with pain and my body was shaking..........I begin to relax for the first time, I am not trying to hold my body together against the pain.

The force of it, the strength of it...........is gone.  The throbbing is faint and I drift off to sleep.

I wake just a few hours later.

And I think...........inconceivable.

Inconceivable is it, that at the sound of a name, that pain is wiped away.  That an offhand request, in a desperate moment, was the solution.

Inconceivable.

The power of a name.

The power of a holy touch.

And the tenacity of a husband more stubborn than any wife or migraine.

A husband who knows who the Healer is and calls freely upon His name.

And I laugh.

I smile.

And I hear the words quoted so many times by my amazing husband and his siblings.............

"You keep using that word, I do not think it means what you think it means."

Inconceivable?

It seems I may just be realizing what IS conceivable.................

Praise and glory be to God.

Sharpening Pencils

It's been over three years now that we started our search for a new church.......looking at a website, digging for some information, calling a pastor.  On that website there was something about villages and their leaders.

And for some odd reason I remember thinking I want to see OUR name on that website.  I want Joe and I to be village leaders - whatever the heck that means.

I think that I was looking for a way to matter, something to do, something to proclaim myself as a Christ follower, doing something that is IMPORTANT.  But it mentioned a year long program and more that immediately cast that thought from my mind and I went on with life.

We joined that church.

And three years later we are leading a village.  Our name is on that website.

There was no year long program - just diligence, a vision laid out from God, being faithful in the little things, showing up and a bit of work.

And today as I was unpacking pencils, trying to find a sharpener and finally giving up, just to take them home and get the job done...............I laughed.

I laughed at the conceit I once had............of wanting to see my name on a website, of mistaking recognition for mattering, of thinking those up front are those who are doing the most.

For I am now up front occasionally, my name is on a website (probably one that hardly ever gets looked at but still it seemed to matter once), people are kind enough to encourage and recognize my efforts BUT..............those few moments are completely eclipsed by the many, many moments of sharpening pencils, crafting e-mails, pounding out lesson plans and documents and checklists, setting up tables, running off copies, sitting and asking God to please show up because I have NO IDEA WHAT I AM DOING, reading my bible for peace/answers/rest, decorating a church room to look more like a castle/justice league, calling to check in, texting to reassure and so much more.

Now three years later I recognize.

I recognize that glory for ME is fleeting and passes quickly and is wrapped up in performance and audience and will always be a let-down, a disappointment but that glory for GOD is found in the building, the movement, the momentum that is created by Him and is made up of a million moments of diligent, daily faithfulness.

It's sharpening pencils.

It's painting walls.

It's checking in.

It's showing up.

It's going to a job you don't love so your family is taken care of and supported.

It's making tough decisions in light of the future you want.

It's reading books to children after a long day, almost falling asleep as you read but knowing this time is precious and fleeting to all of you.

It's listening.

It's asking hard questions.

It's cleaning rooms and floors and clothes that will be dirty again the next day.

It's making food that gets eaten in a tenth of the time it takes to make it.

It's coming home after a long day and chasing kids, playing games, wrestling......instead of sitting down, taking a load off and relaxing.

Those moments up front?  Those glorious moments of basking in the limelight?  The recognition, the praise?

All amazing things.

But those moments are built upon a million moments that remain unseen, unrecognized and seem unimportant...............the real glory comes from knowing that there is a higher purpose.  You are not working for you or for recognition or for perfection.  You are working for God, for His glory, for His purposes.

"For we are God's workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do works, which God prepared in advance for us to do"  
                   - Ephesians  2:10

And you know..............I used to teach first grade.......for seven years I sharpened A LOT of pencils.  It was my LEAST favorite thing to do.  Those dang pencils were ALWAYS breaking.  It was the thing that could send me right over the edge......getting ready for a test, a worksheet, a writing assignment......."MISS KOSSLER!  MISS KOSSLER!  MY PENCIL JUST BROKE!  MY PENCIL JUST BROKE!'  Oh. my. word.  Ok.  Go sharpen it.  "MINE BROKE, TOO!  CAN I SHARPEN MY PENCIL, TOO?"  (teeth gritted) Yes.  We will wait.  (Because first graders need tests read to them and worksheets explained and such)  And on and on it would go.

Every day with the pencils.

So it looks like God was just preparing me in advance for the future glory of being a village leader.................by sharpening pencils.

What's God preparing in YOU?

Walking Ahead

I watch as you walk ahead of me.............tan legs extending from your bright hawaiian themed skirt, blond hair swinging behind you, a bright blue headband topping you off.

You walk ahead - not behind, not beside - but ahead of me, almost running in your excitement to get back to school, to get back to friends, to get back to routine.

You are eager to show your brother the way.  You show him his locker.  You want to help put away his supplies.  You greet your old teachers.  You've been here, done this.

Because of you your brother isn't so scared, he's actually eager to go.  He's heard stories of school.  He's heard how much you love the teachers.  You've sold him on the idea of recess, gym, computers, iPads, even reading.  I love to see how eagerly he follows you and how much you relish showing him the way.

I can't believe that it was two short years ago that we tentatively walked into this building - all of us.  We were nervous for you.  You were nervous.  We weren't quite sure how this whole school thing would go over.  You hid behind us.  You held our hands.  You missed out on gym the first day because of a tummy ache - an ache that came from more than your tummy, I am sure.

But now...............

You walk ahead.  For all of us, my brave and lovely girl.  You have set the tone in this family.  School is a place to learn but it's also a place to love and be loved.  The best thing I have heard yet from a teacher is that you are always the first to be kind, that you care for others in a way that goes beyond the ordinary.  Oh how proud that made me!  It's what we try to tell you, show you, teach you but what you end up teaching us, instead.

You've shown me, sweet girl, to friend the ones who aren't the same, who don't look like you.

You've taught me not to look for the safest, the easy but to show kindness to everyone.

You've shown me that kindness is not just a performance for others but a way of living in the every day.

You've taught me that patience is for everyone and not just when I feel like it or am having a good day.

I love that you are known not for your daddy the middle school teacher, your mommy the former first grade teacher or grandma the retired veteran of the school.........you are known for you, now.  As Sofia Codispoti you have paved your own way, made your own name at that school that is now yours and yours to share with your brother this year.

I am so proud of you.

And if I forget to tell you tomorrow or my smile might seem a bit too big for a mama leaving her little ones for the first day...........I will miss you.  This summer has been a wonderful one.  It was a time of many trips, reading outside, hip-hop, swimming ALL ALONE (WOW), paddle-boating, picnicking, crafts and so many other adventures.  You bring so much to our little family - you organize, you love on your brother and sister, you work hard, you entertain and you treasure the time that daddy and I spend with you.

I love you, sweet girl.

Happy Last Day of Summer.

What I See

They see you and exclaim, "He's SO big!  When did he get so big?"

I look at you and I wonder what they see.

I look at you and I see the same boy I have always seen.

The boy who still calls for me in the morning to get him out of bed.

The boy who cuddles up on my lap and likes to be held for the first few moments of the day.

The boy who pouts and turns in on himself when things don't go his way.

The boy who feels such JOY at the smallest of things and such anger at the tiniest of offenses.

The boy who laughs with such abandon and loves disgusting things.

The boy with big lips, big cheeks and a big heart.

I see our big, beautiful baby boy.

But in just two days this baby boy will be taking his first steps into kindergarten, into a world away from home.

Is that possible?  Could so many others be seeing what I have been missing?  That our beautiful boy is, indeed, growing up and up and up?

It seems to be so.

Another one leaving the nest.........tentatively and for just a few hours..........always returning, making his way home.......and yet.

And yet it is a step closer to the growing up and growing out and growing away......

But that is another day, another milestone.

For today I will treasure the morning cuddles and wake up call, the big, loud belly laughs, the crocodile tears over the little injustices of a 5 year old boy and the the tender heart of our big, beautiful baby boy.

Tomorrow comes soon enough.

Just ask the weary mama of 5 years ago who put her baby to sleep each night, wrapped up tight and placed in the bouncy seat in the crib and woke up to a boy who runs hard, plays hard and loves hard.

The Length of You

Laying still for just a moment, I look down.

And I see.

I see the length of you laying on the length of me.

Oh child.

You wear me down, you wear me out, you wear me.

Mom.

Mom.

Momma.

Mom.

Mom.

You are an endless parade of need and love and need and love and more need.

And yet.

I look down.

And I see.

And I feel.

I feel the weight of you, the glorious, tender weight of you, my child.

And I soak in the moment, realizing that you are just as much my security blanket as I am yours.

As much as I bemoan and roll my eyes and sigh deep, big sighs - you are worth each and every moment of aggravation and weariness.  You are my adventure.  You love big and you need big.  You cause heads to shake while mouths betray the joy you bring to people.  You shout and cajole and boss and own this place.

I can't imagine this life, this world without you.

You still grip my hand to pull me places and tug me hard.   And as you tug my hand, you tug my heart. For you are the last in line - the loudest, the most direct, the wildest one.  Your daddy and I often stare at you in confusion, as if not quite sure how you became ours - so different are you from the others.

And yet.

I look down.

And I see.

I realize, as I look at the length of you laying on the length of me..........

So much of who you are is who I am.

An endless parade of need and love and need and love and more need.    My shouts and bossiness and directness and loudness is shrouded by adulthood most of the time, concealed by the awareness of expectations and presence of others.  And I must say there is part of me that hopes who you are is never fully concealed or shrouded.  That who you are now continues to be who you are into adulthood - that all that craziness and loudness is such a gift.    I love the glint in your eye and the sureness of who you are.

One day soon, we will lay and your toes will start to creep further to mine.  Until one day we will stand next to each other, our toes will meet and the length of you will match the length of me.  It's hard to imagine such a time as that.

I pray that the glint is still in your eye, that the sureness of who you are grows and keeps you loving big.

I pray that people are still shaking their heads and that their mouths still betray their joy at you.  

I pray that your sense of adventure will take you many places but will always bring you home, to the ones that love you most and have loved you longest.

Oh my girl.  How I love you.

I Don't Know....

These words have been tumbling around my mind the past few days................

I don't know.  I don't know.  I don't know.

As I continue on my quest for knowledge, for wisdom, for understanding, I come up against these words.........

I don't know.

I hunger and crave knowledge.  I listen to podcasts, I read my bible, I love to have discussions and talk about the deeper things, the holy things of life.  I can get caught up in the knowing.  And yet........

I don't know.

For there is knowledge and words and talk in isolation; and then there is knowledge and words and talk in life.  And I can have all kinds of theories and explanations and verses and revelation when sitting at my computer, when sitting in a sterile environment objectively debating the merits and points of my views.  I can read and quote and pray and feel confident of my beliefs.  I can stand strong on the rock, the word of my mighty and loving God.

And I do.

Because He IS mighty and He IS loving.  I believe in Him.  I believe in the strength of His word.  I believe in His sovereignty.  I believe.

But I am not He.

I do not have all the answers.

I just don't know.

I don't know why children die.

I don't know why fathers leave.

I don't know why some wombs seem to spontaneously produce life while others remain empty.

I don't know why life on earth ends earlier for some than others.

I don't know why there is brokenness that seems not to heal.

I don't know why there are cravings that seem not to be able to be satisfied.

And my breathe is taken away when thinking of the blessing or burden of being born in a certain place at a certain time - that geography can determine whether you have a child that is fed, that has clean water, that has a chance of celebrating a 5th birthday or even a 2nd.  How can coordinates on a map determine such a thing?  And what right did I have to be one of the lucky ones.......and what do I do with such a gift?

I don't know.

And so I search and I read and I pray.  I ask God for what He might have me do.  I believe that He listens and He answers.  I believe that I am just one piece of a much larger picture - a mere brushstroke made by the Master.  It is not for me to fully know - the whole picture, that is.  I am simply responsible for my part.

And so I think that I don't know is a valid answer and it's one that people might need to hear.

I don't have all the answers.  My belief in God, in Jesus as my Savior doesn't secure me all knowledge, all wisdom.  My belief in Jesus as my Savior secures my salvation and prompts me to live a life in which I take the love that I have been shown by God and share it with those around me.  But even that I mess up and I cringe at the thought that anyone might judge God based on my actions, that anyone might look to me as to evidence of who God is.

And I think that we can get caught in a vicious cycle of expectations and misunderstanding and trying to prove who God is and what He says and who is right and who is wrong.  We launch attacks through posts and feeds and pithy phrases here and there.  We focus more on the words and the sound bites than we do on the heart and the meaning.  We waste time being hurt or angered by the fringe.  We listen to those who are the loudest, no matter that they seem to be the fewest.  There seems to be an expectation of knowing.

But I don't know.

I don't know why skin color seems to be more important than eye color.

I don't know why people love who they love.

I don't know why my gender seems to matter to some and not to others.

I don't know why we have so much and seem to crave so much more.

And while I believe there are some who are called to fight on a larger scale, to be the beginning of a movement, to be on the front lines of a battle............I believe that for most of us the battleground is in our daily lives, our front lines are, indeed, right in front of us.  But we get caught up in the words and the hurt and the anger and we let it spill out across the screens of our computers and our phones and we lose the battle before it begins because we are not there.  We are not loving the person next to us, we are missing the opportunity to change the world because we think it's not enough to simply love and lift up the person next to us.  We want to engage in something bigger, something that "matters" rather than the piece of the larger picture that was given to us.

And, please, do not think that my not knowing translates into ambivalence or that my not knowing means I have no theories or beliefs.  I have many.  I love nothing more than to talk and discuss and debate.  Words are my playthings - meant to have fun with, create with, to lob back and forth in meaningful discussion.  But too often they hurt and are used in public forums to create dissent and fracture in communities, families and friends.  We have become too careless with words and they slip too easily onto a screen, sent off into a space that has no privacy.  And there they sit for all to view and mull over and that screen they sit on can't convey tone or intent just the words in black and white.

And so today......on this screen, in this space........I want you to know that I don't have all the answers.  That as a Christ follower who loves Jesus, who lives to serve Jesus and fails miserably each day there is so much that I do not know.  Yet.......

I know that God loves you.

I know that my Savior lived, died and rose again so that I may have eternal life.

I know that Jesus is Lord.

I know that I am fully loved.

And that is enough for today.