Seasons

It’s funny what I remember as the years go by; the scents, sounds and the sights that evoke memories of my childhood, my adolescence. It’s late September as I am writing this, finding shelter within our screened-in patio in. The sun was shining a few moments ago consuming me with the warmth that summer usually brings, when seemingly out of nowhere the clouds opened up and showered the earth (It is Florida after all). A scent of freshly fallen rain met my nose and reminded me of past spring showers, welcomed wholeheartedly after the chill of winter. The clouds have now hidden the sun away and the cool wind that was rustling through the trees before is now more pronounced on my bare arms and legs. Our gate is creaking back and forth in time with the wind, giving an air of eeriness. It is this combination that convinces me that autumn has begun after all. I just perceived three seasons in less than fifteen minutes, all because of the sights, sounds and scents that prompted memories locked away in my mind.

I have fond recollections of each season…

Springtime brings about the image of blooming flowers, lush green grass, baby animals and all the rest that go with my favourite holiday: Easter. As a child, I did not completely comprehend the significance of Easter as far as my Christian faith is concerned, but as I grew older the importance it had in my heart grew too. It is still nice to look back on all the Easter Egg hunts and family gatherings associated with the holiday, though.

Summer is my favourite season of all, which has got me questioning my ability to rationally think. I am terrified of thunderstorms you see, and when are they most prevalent? Thunderstorms aside, I just love the sunshine! I enjoy those family barbecues where everyone lingers late into the evening, because the sun never seems to set. Family picnics, swinging in the park, walks along the beach, drawing on the front doorstep, day trips, ice-cream stops…the list goes on. Summer evokes some of my best memories. Perhaps it has something to do with me being born in July.

What can I say about Fall? It is not my favourite season by a long stretch but there are many elements I can take in small doses… The slight chill that prompts me to pull out a light sweater, picking out the best pumpkin in the patch, harvest festivals, Thanksgiving and of course the beautiful array of colours the leaves present. They’re fun when they’ve fallen too, all crunchy and in days of old, fun to jump into. My brother and I used to rake them for my Great Grandma. I just don’t like when they get soggy!

Winter? There’s not a whole lot I like about this season, which is one good thing about Florida. I do love snow when it is falling. It is just so pretty. Once it hits the ground, it can be enjoyable. I like sledding and used to love building forts. I never was into the snowball fights or skiing. The frigid temperatures are too much for me to bear, especially since I have been acclimatized to Florida.

I didn't have a particular purpose in writing this. I just wanted to write. Perhaps it will stir some memories for you. Good ones, I hope :)

Sincerely, Melissa

Every Season

sung by Nichole Nordeman

Every evening sky, an invitation

To trace the patterned stars

And early in July, a celebration

For freedom that is ours

And I notice You In children’s games

In those who watch them from the shade

Every drop of sun is full of fun and wonder

You are summer

And even when the trees have just surrendered

To the harvest time

Forfeiting their leaves in late September

And sending us inside

Still I notice You when change begins

And I am braced for colder winds

I will offer thanks for what has been and was to come

You are autumn

And everything in time and under heaven

Finally falls asleep

Wrapped in blankets white, all creation

Shivers underneath

And still I notice you

When branches crack

And in my breath on frosted glass

Even now in death, You open doors for life to enter

You are winter

And everything that’s new has bravely surfaced

Teaching us to breathe

What was frozen through is newly purposed

Turning all things green

So it is with You

And how You make me new

With every season’s change

And so it will be

As You are re-creating me

Summer, autumn, winter, spring

I Can Relate

I made a similar post as this a couple years ago now, but sometimes there is a song or quote that can just express what is going on in your life better than you could ever articulate on your own. The following are snippets from some of my favourite songs at the moment that really make me feel like the songwriters took a glimpse into my heart, while others I can just hear God speaking to me so clearly through...

"You're not alone, for I am here./Let me wipe away your every fear./My love, I've never left your side./I have seen you through te darkest night./And I'm the one whose loved you all your life./All of your life." You're Not Alone~Meredith Andrews

"No power of Hell./No scheme of man./Could ever pluck me from His hand./'Til He returns or calls me home/Here in the power of Christ I'll stand."
In Christ Alone~Adrienne Liesching & Geoff Moore

"I can't believe that I'm here in this place again./How did I manage to mess up one more time?/This pattern seems to be the story of my life./Should have learned this lesson by the thousandth time." On My Own~Barlowgirl

"Dear God, It's me again down here./ Don't wanna sound insincere./ I'm lost, sometimes you're so unclear./ What can I do?/ I'm feeling so far from you." The Way to Begin~Rachael Lampa

"We've had every conversation in the world/ about what is right and what has all gone bad,/ but have I mentioned to you that this is all I am,/ this is all that I have./ I'm not trying to judge you./ That's not my job./ I am just a seeker too, in search of God./ Somewhere somehow this subject became taboo./ I have no other way to communicate to you./ This is all that I am./ This is all that I have." Conversations~Sara Groves

"Do you want to be free?/ Lift your chains, I hold the key./ All power of Heaven and Earth belong to me." Set Me Free~Casting Crowns

"How many roads did I travel, before I walked down one that led me to You?/ How many dreams did unravel, before I believed in a hope that was true?/ How long?/ How far?/ What was meant to fulfill only emptied me still./ And all You ever wanted... Only me on my knees, Singing holy, holy/ And somehow all that matters now is You are holy, holy."
Holy~Nichole Nordeman

"I will stumble./ I will fall down./ But I will not be moved./ I will make mistakes./ I will face heartache./ But I will not be moved./ On Christ the Solid Rock I stand./ All other ground is sinking sand./ I will not be moved!" I Will Not Be Moved~Natalie Grant

"Am I the only one who's traded in the altar for a stage?/ The performance is convincing./ And we know every line by heart./ Only when no one is watching,/ Can we really fall apart."
Stained Glass Masquerade~Casting Crowns

"I was faced with passing time./ But I knew the choice was mine./ To finally come to you and give you all control./ I've wandered miles to find my way./ And then you revealed this simple faith./ I know that you can see the secrets of my soul." Lay Down My Pride~Jeremy Camp

"...He was bleeding from a beating/There were stripes upon his back/ And he wore a crown of thorns upon his head/ And he bore with every step,/ The scorn of those who cried out for his death./ Down the Via Dolorosa called the way of suffering./ Like a lamb came the Messiah, Christ the King./ But He chose to walk that road out of His love for you and me./ Down the Via Dolorosa, all the way to calvary." Via Dolorosa~Sandi Patti

"I feel alone here and cold here./ Though, I don't wanna die./ But the only anesthetic that makes me feel anything kills inside./ I do not want to be afraid./ I do not want to die inside just to breathe in./ I'm tired of feeling so numb./ Relief exists I find it when I am cut." Cut~Plumb

"Sometimes I feel like I'm just existing./ I'm not really living./ I'm only watching the time slip away./ I've forgotten who I am in you./ I'm not who I'm meant to be./ I'm drifting farther away from my destiny." Awaken~Natalie Grant

" 'My precious Son, I hear them screaming./ I'm watching the face of the enemy beaming./ But soon I will clothe You in robes of My own./ Jesus, this hurts Me much more than You know./ But this dark hour I must do nothing./ Though, I've heard Your unbearable cry./ The power in Your blood destroys all of the lies./ Soon You'll see past their unmerciful eyes./ Look there below, see the child trembling by her father's side./ Now I can tell You why./ She is why You must die.' "
Why~Nichole Nordeman

"I wanna set the world on fire./ Until it's burning bright for You./ It's everything that I desire./ Can I be the one You use?/ I, I am small but You, You are big enough./ I, I am weak but You, You are strong enough to take my dreams, come and give them wings./ Lord with You There's nothing I can not do./ Nothing I cannot do." Set the World on Fire~Britt Nicole

"Somewhere in the silence, I can hear your broken voice./ Like a radio station fading out of range./ Somewhere in the crowd from the corner of my eye, I thought that I could feel you- walking by./ And when I get this feeling like I am not so strong, I still can feel you with me./ Yeah, you've been there all along." When I Fall~Rachael Lampa

"I've had enough of living life for only me./ And reaching just for the things that keep destroying me." Psalm 73 (My God's Enough)~Barlowgirl feat. Todd Agnew

"Live today through the future's lens./ Don't wanna wish you could rewind and play it again./ Stand up write the soundtrack for your life./ It doesn't happen to you, you happen to life./ Stand up, do something with your light./ It doesn't happen to you, you happen to life."
Stand Up~Superchick

I Love Him*

Do you get riled up when someone puts down a member of your family? Somehow, whether the family member in question is right or wrong, you feel an extreme loyalty and a desire to defend them. It is the same mentality that says, “Hey! I can say that because I’m his sister, but don’t you dare say it!” When people talk trash about the ones we love and care about, it can feel like they might as well have directed it at us. It’s personal. It hits close to home. Other times, the fire is more of a heart ache. Your heart just shatters thinking about what that unkind word or thoughtless deed meant to your sister, brother, aunt, father, niece, cousin etc.

I was on one of the several social networking sites available today, browsing the updates made to friends’ profiles and perusing the applications you can add to your page. One of the girls in my circle of friends had a “bumper sticker” application, which allows you to pick from an assortment of uploaded icons and post them on your profile. I also have this application, so when I noticed she had a “Jesus Fish” icon, I decided I would also like to have that symbol, as a testimony of my faith. However, after a few frustrating attempts, I could not seem to get the picture to show up on my profile. ARGH! So, I decided to go about it the long way and hunt for another image, thinking perhaps the issue was with that particular image file. I selected “religion” from the drop down list and commenced the search for another “Jesus Fish”. What I found instead was disheartening.

Amongst a tower of rubbish, were a handful of genuine icons that depicted one religion or another, with a few that endorsed Christianity. Others mocked the faith. In some of the more offensive, Jesus himself was the brunt of some crude jokes. My husband put it well: It is one thing to make fun of Christians, for we are only human, but God is above mocking. After seeing one too many appalling jabs at Jesus, I gave up the quest and sat there on the couch, trying to digest the series of emotions that were turning around inside me. When I was able to sort it out, I realized I was hurt. I was genuinely saddened by what I had witnessed. I felt like I would feel if someone had just run my husband’s name through the mud with no evidence to back up their slander.

Then it became real.

I truly love my Savior! I often express this in prayer but it seems it has become more lip service than sincerity. It also reminded me, especially in light of Easter, this is not the first time Jesus has been mocked. Several years ago, he was beaten, spat upon, whipped, sliced, broken, bruised and taunted. The Roman soldiers, “stripped him and put a scarlet robe on him”, then irreverently placed a crown of thorns upon Jesus’ head, “They put a staff in his right hand and knelt in front of him and mocked him. ‘Hail, king of the Jews!’ they said.” (Matthew 27:28-29) He then had nails driven through his hands and feet so that He could be hung from a cross, for all to come and see, to jeer at and to scorn. Jesus gave His life that day for me, for you, and for the people who created the offensive images and text.

All my life I have had the point driven home, “Jesus loves you.” He loves me because He is love, “because the Bible tells me so”, because He laid down His life…the list goes on. But I do not believe I have heard as often what it means to love God. A few Sundays ago, there was a sermon about what is expected of us once we are saved. Of course, I could tell you what much of those things are, right? I mean, go to church, pray, worship, adhere to the Ten Commandments, read His Word…those are all good things; But why do we do these things? Is it “because the Bible tells me so”? Well, partially, but why should we want to obey His Word? We should want to obey Him, because we love Him. He showed the greatest example of love known to man. His, is an undying love of unfathomable proportions and all He asks for in return, is our love. With that love, comes the desire to obey and follow Him. It was quite the point he made! God wants us to love Him too. Well, I can honestly say I do love my Savior…and I do strive to demonstrate this not only in words, but in actions as well.

So, as Good Friday comes to a close and Easter Sunday approaches, I hope you consider the debt that was paid on that cross at Calvary for each and every one of us. His love is bigger than mine, it can love the lowliest of people, it is blind to race, colour, gender…We, too, are to love one another. It is a hard concept to put into practice sometimes but I am glad God died for the murders, the rapists, the liars, the adulterers, the thieves, the doubters, the hypocrites, the proud...because I used to be a sinner, now I’m a sinner saved by grace. And for this gift, I am thankful.

“Down the Via Dolorosa

In Jerusalem that day

The soldiers tried to clear the narrow street

But the crowd pressed in to see

The man condemned to die on calvary

His was bleeding from a beating

The were stripes upon his back

And he wore a crown of thorns upon his head

And he bore with every step

The scorn of those who cried out for his death

Down the Via Dolorosa

Called the way of suffering

Like a lamb came the Messiah

Christ the king

But he chose to walk that road out of his love

For you and me

Down the Via Dolorosa all the way

To Calvary”

(excerpt from Via Dolorosa sung by Sandi Patty)

* I wrote/published this on my former blog on March 22nd of this year, but I thought it was a good point to make again.

I Can Do All Things...

Dear Reader,



Tropical Storm Fay is now starting to truly make its presence known in my area. To the native Floridian, I believe this storm is just business as usual. To me, it is a nightmare. And so, you can only imagine the frenzied state I am in.



When the wind and rain started yesterday evening, I was grateful that my husband had made it home earlier than previously estimated. With the promise of bad weather moving in over night, I had a difficult time getting any sleep. In the wee hours of the morning, my husband's alarm went off, which he silenced. He then rolled over and went back to sleep. I was pleased by this, since I hoped it to be a sign that he was planning on staying home, due to the poor weather. Alas, a call to his boss dashed all hope. Apparently, today is business as usual. (Ah, those Floridians!) No, after nearly three years I do not consider myself a true Floridian. Until I am a pro at dealing with these storms, I cannot think of myself as one.



So, here I am...it's 6:41AM. My eyes are threatening to close of their own valition and my muscles are sore from all the tension. I hear the gentle pitter patter of rain outside, but I know what is coming. I am torturing myself. You should've seen the anger that seathed through my body when I was informed that it was "business as usual." I worry about my husband out there in the elements and I worry about me...here...alone. There's the all too familiar fear of the power going out (which it has once already), the threat of tornadoes and just the utter lonliness. It is enough to drive this person insane.



The advice I was given: Pray. I must admit to almost scoffing at this. I mean, duh...that's a simple answer. It is easier said than done, though. It is easy to pray to God on other people's behalf. It is easier to pray when the sun is shining and things are going well. It is easier to pray for something small or that you want but don't crave. But praying during the storm? How do I do that? Reciting "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me" (Philippians 4:13) as an encouragement to yourself in small situations is one thing. Believing it to be true of yourself, when things seem completely out of your reach...that is really hard!



How do I make it more than words? How do I let Him truly impress that truth upon my heart? My heart is so tangled up in anger, anxiety, fear and a miriad of other emotions, that I am finding it very challenging to have faith. Yep, that is what is required of me to make that verse have true meaning in my life. Faith... I used to think fear was at the root of all my struggles, but really it is a lack of faith. Without trust in God, I am open to all sorts of worries, anxieties and phobias. I am open to attack.



I wish in writing all this, I suddenly felt compelled to make the most of today. The pain is ebbing a little, and I can only attribute this to God. He must love me an awful lot to be so patient. I overreact so often to fears, so to those who are slumbering away right now, I would probably come across like a lunatic. I don't suppose I would blame them for thinking me one, either. To the Christian, if you feel led, your prayers are always appreciated. To everyone else, if you are being impacted by this storm, I pray you find shelter not only in the physical means of a home, but under His wings. That is where I endeavor to dwell today.



Sincerely, Melissa

Cut

*If blood makes you squeamish, you may want to skip this one.

Dear Reader,


My husband and I had the privilege to fly up to New York in June to see my younger brother, Matt, graduate high school. We went up a week in advance to visit with family and friends, but when that day finally rolled around, it sure flew by! The following day, my parents hosted a small party to celebrate Matt's achievement.


The morning of the party was spent preparing last minute food items, setting the table and arranging extra seating in the living room. My mom was buzzing about from task to task, so the housewife in me was eager to help (and to prove I could actually do some of that house stuff now). She delegated me the task of preparing the veggie tray. Not a big deal, right? She had already set out everything I needed, so I set to arranging the baby carrots on the silver platter beside me. Next came the broccoli, which required a bit more prep. After cutting and rinsing the bite size pieces, I then added them alongside the carrots. So far, nothing out of the ordinary. This left the cauliflower.


I unwrapped it, then stood for a moment, puzzled. In all my life, I could not recall ever having to chop up a head of cauliflower. Did I pull all that stuff off the bottom first? I voiced my confusion to some of the people around me, sharing that I had never worked with this frustrating (though, delicious) vegetable before. They offered some tips but I do not think I made it clear just how incapable I was feeling. Alright, maybe I could figure this out. Gosh, those things are tough! The blade of the long knife I held barely made a dent. This prompted the hair brained scheme that I would make an incision along the top of the cauliflower, then pull the knife down like a lever. It sounded feasible. So, I plunged the knife into the top of the cauliflower, not realizing just how solid that thing was. The knife stopped short, but my hand kept going.


The next bit all happened so quickly. I jerked my hand away as soon as I felt the sting. Gingerly I opened my right hand; All I could see was blood pooling in the center. Frightened, I ran to find my Mom. She was horrified but immediately went into "Mom Mode". Actually, this was when I learned that she hates blood. I had never known that. With all the scrapes and cuts Matt and I had run to her with, I just thought it was nothing to her. It made me appreciate her all the more when I realized what hurdle she had to overcome to deal with such things. Especially since this was the worst one I had ever run to her with.


My hand was soon clamped around a towel, while she hunted for the right first aid supplies. It stung so badly but I needed to apply pressure. My Dad was frustrated that this happened the day of Matt's graduation party and voiced said frustration. This only served to make me cry, which alerted my Uncle and brother to the fact something was wrong. They quickly came in to investigate too. Dad did not mean to upset me, but it had been all I could do not to cry anyhow. There was then debate over whether I should go to the walk-in clinic for stitches, but it was eventually dismissed. Mom needed something for the party, so the men volunteered to go to the grocery store for her. Matt stayed with us, of course, in case any of his guests started arriving.


I started to feel a bit woozy, which worried my Mother. We figured much of this was likely do to stress but she poured me drink and set a box of cookies next to me, just in case. She was ready to send me to the walk-in clinic after all, when Dad and Uncle Mark pulled into the driveway. I had my purse over my shoulder and threw on my flip flops, but my Uncle said it would not be necessary. He handed Mom a bag which contained butterfly stitches, gauze bandages, a cloth bandage and the appropriate tape. They convinced her it was enough, so she dressed my wound, then wrapped it all up tightly. (So tightly, that later on, I actually had to have her loosen it because my fingers were going numb!)


Party over. Explanation of the bandage on my right hand told several times already. It was now Sunday morning, and time for Ray and I to depart. Carrying your heavy luggage through a crowded airport is cumbersome on most days, but it was quite another task with only one hand. Fortunately, my husband is strong and very sweet. When we landed, our sisters were there to pick us up. When I got into the car, though, I made the mistake of bracing myself with my right hand. That...hurt! I think in doing so, unless it occurred earlier, I had opened my wound up again. Fortunately, my family had sent us home with the first aid supplies.


Ray faithfully dressed my hand for me every day that week. He created a glove out of a bag for me to wear when I showered and consoled me that my cut would eventually heal. And heal it did! Where the incision was deeper, logically took longer, but my hand is now in full working order. Since it is mid-August, that is a good thing! I would be concerned otherwise. Everyone I have told says I am lucky I did not lose a digit or cause nerve damage. I do not count it as luck, though.


It was a painful ordeal but it has made me more cautious in the kitchen (and vow to only buy frozen cauliflower). I do not know exactly why it happened, if not only for that purpose. All I know is, God was there all along. He made sure the people around me knew how to address the issue. If my hand had not started to improve at all that first week, we were prepared to make a doctor's visit. Luck had nothing to do with it. God had everything to do with it. He is the great Healer! I am very thankful that all that is left of that wound is a faint scar. If you did not know it was there, you may not even notice. I have pictures of the progression and it is amazing to see how far it has come!


I just thought it was good to look back on this, because God heals the physical wounds but it is good to remember He also heals the emotional ones. If you, like me, are struggling with something that just seems like it will never close up and heal, let God apply his balm to it. It is tough to let Him sometimes, because it may sting...it takes some effort and care(Remember my previous entry?) to re-dress the wound. Even the tiniest paper cuts do not completely heal over night, so how can I expect a deep incision to fade away as I sleep? It is a tough reminder, but my hand is a simple illustration of just how effectively God can wipe away the pain, if you just trust and sit tight. I hope that I will keep this truth close to my heart. I hope you will too.



Sincerely, Melissa

Digging Up Weeds

Dear Reader,

A few months ago, Ray and I picked up a bunch of garden tools so I could get started on my garden. Any garden needs a good foundation, so I soon set to digging up and ripping out the overgrown mass of weeds. With the Florida sun beating down, it did not take long for sweat beads to form on my brow. My legs ached from perching alongside the garden. I did not complete the entire task in one day. It took a couple more attempts before I could proudly stand before my house, feeling accomplished. There had been dirt under there after all! All it needed was a little more work, some fertilizer perhaps, and then flowers.

Unfortunately, our budget was tight and we were unable to invest in anymore gardening supplies soon enough. That, and I figured once it was done it would remain done. I do not know what put such a silly idea in my head. I suppose wishful thinking. Now, my once trimmed and prepped garden is completely overgrown again. It is quite a mess. How did I ever manage to get it to a manageable state?

Yesterday, I likened spiritual strongholds to this predicament I am in with my wannabe garden. In my life, there are struggles that seem to creep up all the time. Fear is one example. Moments come where I say "Enough is enough!" and start hacking away at the weeds of fear choking my walk. Sometimes, I get them down to the roots and on stronger days I can rip them clear out of the dirt. After one of my more determined attacks, I see some healthy plants start to sprout. A week later, I turn and find that I am knee deep in an overgrown garden again. It does not take long for the bad things to grow and fester. In order for the good things, like flowers, to blossom, they need care. They require nurturing. To truly grow, I need to make an effort to weed out the bad things that sustain my strongholds, like that of fear.

The shelves at the home improvement stores are lined with all sorts of lawn cutting tools and miracle products that do away with the pests and plants you do not want. I keep pulling those products off the shelf (self-help books, friendly advice etc.) but I keep forgetting to seek out the ultimate Gardener. It sounds so simple. It may sound cliche. However, there is a reason why that is the conclusion I keep coming to: He is the one and only answer I need. My fears are easier to handle when I let Him help me, when I let Him dig up the roots. On my own, I am just a small woman with strained muscles, scraped knees and sweat pouring down my face, trying to get myself back to where I can function, with no time to recover before the next attack. With Him, there is a breath of air between attacks and enough time for me to be strengthened.

Similar imagery is illustrated in the Bible, especially in Matthew 13 through "The Parable of the Sower." I guess it must be a logical comparison :) It helps to look at things in a different way, like using allagories. I hope that as my week wears on, followed by months and years, that I start to tend to the garden of my life a bit better. Perhaps, I will be able to write to you about how God ripped the constricting, thorn bush of fear from my life. Until then, I will continue to share the journey.

Sincerely, Melissa

Rumblings and Ramblings

The clock on my laptop will hit 10:00 PM at any moment, but I am sitting here writing because just outside my window is the clash of thunder and patter of raindrops. Lightning flashes are rather frequent as well. Thunderstorms remind me of someone throwing a temper tantrum. Tears flow, they growl and toss things about. (Hm, power just fluctuated.)

It's funny, my husband is bothered more by my fingers tapping the keys than the incessant rumblings, blinding flashes of light and deafening barrage of raindrops pelting our home. My husband just reminded me that our poor roof is taking a nice beating. We shall soon see if the torching that was done, to solve the second leak we have had since we moved here, did the trick. Our bedroom had a flat roof when we moved in last September. This made sense, since we were told it is a converted garage. Just after Christmas, I noticed some discoloration on the ceiling. It turned out to be mold, which forced Ray and me into the guest bedroom for awhile. Long story short, we got the roof revamped and fixed. Then the drywalling was completed. We went to New York in June. Shortly after returning home, I noticed a yellowish line in the same vacinity of our former leak. Sure enough, it ended up being water damage. Fortunately, we were able to get the roofers back out here to check it out. It was a quick fix and it has held thus far, but we shall see what this rainstorm does. I think this is the most rain we have seen in awhile. We still need to get what damage was done to the drywalling taken care of, but as always, we trust God will provide.

Despite all of the stress the above issues caused us, we managed to get by. God carried us through it! I am thankful for our little house. Moments like this make me feel so small, though. It feels like there is a piece of paper keeping the elements out. However, there is Someone bigger keeping us safe and holding our home together (in more ways than one).

So, I suppose I should attempt some shut-eye.

Sincerely, Melissa

Bird Plop?

Dear Reader,

It is 9:13AM, which is not so early to some. Plenty of people are on their way to work or are already seeing to whatever task their boss has set before them or delegating the orders of the day. To me, however, at this very moment, it feels like it might as well be 5AM. I did sleep, up until my husband's alarm alerted us it was time for him to roll out of bed and prepare for his job. He did not leap out of bed, but rather layed there, informing me that he did not sleep well. I realized I was in pain and as a result could not find a comfortable position, which prevented me from retrieving anymore shut eye. I groaned, rolled on my back and remained fixed in that spot for awhile. The light was on at that point, so Ray summoned up some strength to propel him out of our bed.

A short time later, he returned and flopped on the bed. I am not a morning person by any stretch, and the times where an event has necessitated an early rising, I find myself quite irritable, lethargic and nauseated. I can only imagine what doing that every morning feels like, especially when it is not even for something desirable. God bless my husband for taking that burden upon himself!

So, why is 9:13AM so loathsome for someone who does not even have to be somewhere at a designated time? Simply because I did not feel 100% when I finally got back to sleep, and was rudely awoken twice by the pounding bassline of someone's music. This second time was just before nine. I located the source, grimaced, went back inside and have been on the couch since. I hope to summon the same strength my husband did earlier. It is silly to be rendered useless because I refuse to snap out of my lethargy.

This morning just started with a couple bird plops...that's all. What on earth do you mean? Max Lucado has written a book entitled Everyday Deserves a Chance: Wake Up to the Gift of 24 Hours. Last week, I read the first chapter over the phone to my mother. Lucado's illustration of how bad things pop up that annoy, discourage you etc. in the course of a day, came from when a bird literally plopped on his chest, ruining his picturesque beach experience. My mom got a kick out of the way he phrased it: "[I]nto everyday a bird will plop." (p.2) Thursday, I found myself having to apply the verse he often referred to throughout this chapter to combat such attacks, "This is the day the Lord has made. We will rejoice and be glad in it." (Ps. 118:24) He quoted this scripture as a way to encourage us that there is a way to give everyday a chance. Find ways to rejoice in it and it will eventually become an engrained pattern.

Thursday was a seeming bombardment of birds. The early morning went as usual, with my husband leaving for work. Around 10 "o" clock, the phone rang. Ray's number appeared on the caller ID display, so I eagerly picked up and greeted him. Click. Silence. I attempted a few more "Hellos" before hanging up. Sometimes he gets stuck in poor coverage areas, so I did not think too much of it...until I attempted to call him back. Our phone was completely dead. We have Vonage, which means our phone line is routed through our internet access. (It is usually quite reliable but our router had been on the fritz.) Sure enough, browsing the web yielded nothing...my connection was lost. I attempted what Ray told me to do in these situations once...twice...thrice...Several attempts later, I resigned myself to the fact it was not likely coming back on.

Ok, so I could not communicate with anyone via the phone or internet. That was an isolating feeling, especially so early in the day. However, I decided to watch some television. Five minutes before the end of the show, at the climax, the channel cut out. It returned just in time for the credits. These were little things, but it does not take much to stress me out. Unable to solve the issue, not knowing when Ray would be home, being cut off from the world...it was all too much for me. However, I remembered the book and the verse. Soon, I was doing my chores, singing "This is the day that the Lord has made./We will rejoice and be glad in it!" I kept singing choruses and other songs I knew, while allowing the line of communication to flow between me and God. Soon, Ray walked through the door and I knew I had made it through the day! It had not ended up being as bad as it could have been! He took me out to Arby's, after we went on a hunt for a new router. I had a craving for a milkshake; knowing this, Ray asked if I would like one. My reply was "If they have them, sure." Sounds a bit pessimistic, but the last time I ordered one, their machine was broken or something. Sure enough, it was broken (or something) this time around. Miraculously, though I was disappointed, God really did help me to rejoice in my day. Even if I was not jumping up and down, excited by our circumstances, I was not depressed.

So, why did I share all this? Because I cannot let a bad start to the day ruin the rest. Sure, I am still sleepy and a tad grumpy, but that does not give me an excuse to sit here and wallow. And so, I plan to get off my bum, get some breakfast and set to the chores I have around here. There is plenty to do! I will have to let you know what I think of the rest of Lucado's book, but if I got all that from the first chapter, I am sure God will open my eyes to even more throughout the rest.

Have a good day. Rejoice in it!

Sincerely, Melissa

A New Angle

Dear Reader,

Several months worth of posts sit unfinished as drafts under this blog. Part of the issue is, I feel compelled to write but often bottle it in until there is just so much to say, that my train of thought derails prompting me to figuratively scrunch up my piece of paper and toss it in the trash bin out of frustration. I do not know where to start without ending up on a dry bunny trail. I have decided I will take a new angle with this blog, since perhaps I confined myself before by narrowing the theme to "battles of the mind", otherwise-known-as spiritual attacks and Christian trials. The blog I had prior to this was not about anything in particular. Sometimes I shared the days events, while other times I poured out my heart.

Since I am a Christian, my perspective will not change, but I am broadening the spectrum a bit more to encompass some more lighthearted matter. My mind needs an outlet for all that enters it from day to day. I hope you'll check back to see what I have to say and I really would like to write at least once a week, like I used to. Thank you for taking the time to read this :)

Sincerely, Melissa

I Don't Want To Go To Church

To My Fellow Christian,

I write these blogs just as much for me, as for anyone else. Throughout these blogs are truths that have been revealed to me, that I often need to be reminded of. Just now, I went back and read the post about church being a chore. It was written just last fall, but here I sit, completely consumed now by the apathy of attending church each Sunday.


For the past several Sundays, in increasing succession, we have not entered God's house nor fellowshipped with His people. Only one of those Sunday mornings, offered a legitimate excuse for not attending (we were not feeling well) but even then it was not so bad that we could not have taken a few decongestants and sat through a service.


We did manage to rouse ourselves enough one morning, fairly recently, but due to our lethargic states of mind, we were unfortunately late. The moment we rushed through those church doors we were greeted by a gentleman who quickly informed us the sanctuary was full and we would have to find seating up in the balcony. In moving closer to the church, with only a five minute drive, you would think we would be on time. However, we were quite familiar with where the late people go and hurriedly ran up the stairs, my lack of exercise showing in my breathlessness at the top. An usher, who I readily recognized from the several sundays we have worshipped there, asked if we were new...then led us to seating. All of the chairs had coats or Bibles on them though, meaning, they were being saved for someone. I felt like a major inconvenience and to be honest, with my lack of desire to go that morning, picking apart any little thing that went "wrong" was quite easy. So, it should come as no surprise to you that I readily noticed no one offered us a hymnal, and thus I spent the rest of the service breaking into song as each hymn came to its chorus. I also felt terribly for being the cause of a mini-scene, since the usher had to go move the items on the reserved seats for us, and the balcony area is not-so-large. I felt as if every eye was on us. True, much of what I felt was likely just that, a feeling, but it was present nonetheless. After the service ended, we exited the building quickly and made our way home.


That, my friends, was what transpired the last time we attended. I can only imagine how hectic it will be this coming Sunday, seeing as it is Palm Sunday, followed by Easter. This is my favourite holiday though, so I shall want to go...I hope. Apathy is very hard to overcome. What really gets to me though, is we seem to get over it on Saturdays. We do sleep in, but only to ten or so, then we are up and can be ready long before eleven (which is when service starts on Sunday). Since we don't have to be anywhere, we do often take our sweet time getting ready, but when we want to be somewhere, suddenly we can get ready quite hastily. I do not want to go to church.


How terrible is that? I am one of God's children, and I do not want to go to church!


Yesterday, exhausted from a very long grocery trip, I glanced at the microwave clock, noting that if I started at that moment, I could be ready for the evening service. I mulled over in my head whether or not to tell Ray what time it was, half-afraid and half-hoping he would then say "Ok, let's get ready". I thought it was best to put the ball in his court, so I did end up alerting him to the time. To my chagrin he replied "Are we going?" thus shifting the decision back on me. Argh! You see, he is struggling just as much as I am. We started to get ready but my heart wasn't in it. He asked "How long is it going to take you to get ready?" I honestly did not know. If I really wanted to be there, it would've taken me only a matter of minutes to throw something dressy on. Actually, if I really wanted to be there, I would've just went as I was, jeans and all. It is not the best option but it would have been a better alternative to missing church. However, as I have stated, the fact of the matter is I had not motivation to go.


Purposely dragging my heels, the window of time to get ready and drive to the church dwindled down to ten minutes. Ray threw up his hands and said "Forget it!" I was simultaneously disappointed and relieved. I suppose I felt if he were the one to call it off, then I was less to blame, but I know that is not accurate. We flopped next to each other on the bed, mentally beating ourselves up for the apathy we felt, berating ourselves for not caring enough to make a genuine effort. We lay there for a few moments, before we voiced our frustrations to each other. I grabbed a book off the shelf. Stop Dating the Church by Joshua Harris, and began reading to Ray until my voice started to fail me. He then picked up where I had left off. Unfortunately, this only lasted so long since my attention is easily swayed. I thought about putting on some worship music, I considered reading the Bible, I suggested a mutual prayer, but it all seemed like a chore. Laundry? Check. Brush Teeth? Check. Read the Bible?...


It should not be that way but that is how it is presently. Spiritually, we are sick. We are sitting on the bench, watching the rest of the team work the field, raking in the points.


Lately, I have had a lot of struggles and not so much insight to offer. I stand by the points I shared about why attending church is a good thing. It will sink in once more and I pray soon. It is self-discipline, it is being obedient. Feelings are fickle but they seem to be what drives me. Right now, I feel apathetic about church and personal time with God. Pretty much, I am apathetic in my walk with Christ. A feeling, no matter how real, is only a feeling though. It may not have any basis on reality. This particular emotion is stemming from past experiences, but that is something I will work through. I am not going to try. I am going to do. I used to get annoyed with my former boyfriend who pointed out trying left room for not trying. I did not understand. I thought it meant I would give it my best shot. But really, he was right, for me it was a cop out. "I'll try" meant, "I'll try when it is convenient to do so." So, I am not going to try!


In Christ,




PS: Check out this song:

The Altar and the Door--Casting Crowns

Careless, I am reckless

I'm a wrong-way-travelin'-slowly-unraveling shell of a man

Burnt out, I'm so numb nowThat the fire's just an ember way down in the corner of my cold, cold heart

Lord, this time I'll make it right, here at the altar I lay my life

Your kingdom come but my will was done, my heart is broken as I...

Chorus:

Cry, like so many times before

But my eyes are dry before I leave the floor, oh Lord

I try but this time, Jesus, how can I be sure I will not lose my follow through

Between the altar and the door

Here at the altar, oh my world so black and white

How could I ever falter

What You've shown me to be right

I'm trying so hard to stop trying so hard

Just let You be who You areLord, who You are in me

Jesus, I'm trying so hard to stop trying so hard

Just let You be who You are

Lord, who You are in me

Oh Lord, I

Chorus

I Fear...Everything

Dear Reader,

Here I sit, once more cautioned by the weather station to watch for potential tornado formation. I should not be surprised, this is Florida after all, and we are rapidly approaching Spring. Ah, Spring...flowers, bunnies, butterflies, rainbows and several storms. It is hard to believe I have not gone insane over the past two and a half years with all the watches and warnings. If you know me or are familiar with my previous blog entries, you are aware that I am quite afraid of bad storms. The rumble of thunder, the howling winds, the downpours beating my roof and flashes of light, send chills down my spine. But why? What exactly is the root? I am thinking I ought to figure it out, because my husband I plan on raising a family here.

I believe it comes down to the potential danger. I do not feel secure. Come to think of it, that is the bottom line to the majority, if not all of my fears. That may sound like a "duh" conclusion, but as a Christian, it should not be the case. If I dwell on all the things that could happen to me, then life is going to just chug along without me. And what is worse, I am ineffective as a witness for Christ. Sure, I can write these blogs from home, but this blog only reaches a few people...there is a whole world out there...and I'll admit to you, I do dwell on all the things that could happen.

I am bound in chains that only seem to grow tighter, and I know who holds the key, I just am, and here's that word again, afraid to let Him unlock them and set me free. It is a stronghold...emphasis on strong! It is not a struggle I am proud of, as you can imagine. It is destroying my life. In our old apartment, I remember being embarrassed when one of those surveys you post on your myspace asked "When is the last time you went outside?" The truth was, it had been a few days or more. Now, I go outside at least once a day, because I do not fear my neighborhood, but I do not go further than the end of my driveway...

It is growing more and more burdensome to deal with the multitude of fears of I experience on a day to day basis. What if a tornado hits my house? What if someone breaks in while I am sleeping? What if my husband gets in an accident on his way to work? What if I get hit by a car walking to the store? What if I get bit by a creepy, slithering reptile? What if...?

What if I just let go? Yeah, I know, I have asked myself this before, but my irrational side won out. So, where do I go from here? I do not have the answers. I do not know what my first step should be. I wish I had an encouragement to offer or some gained wisdom, but I am at a loss. Fear is a strong emotion, and it seems so real, whether it is a legitimate one or not. Have you ever been in a rut like this? How did you get out or cope?

I hope to return with my own answers!

In Christ,

Melissa's Musings*

To My Fellow Christian,

I wish I had some fantastic revelation to share with you this February afternoon, but alas I am in the midst of some trials, rather than at the end of them. However, one can still learn from the process as well as the conclusion. I am learning...the only problem, I am still at that point where it is all a jumble and I must sort it out what God is showing me with the rest of the junk that fills my head.


My husband and I are incredibly thankful for our home. We are excited to have an investment into our future; A place to raise our children, Lord willing, and create many more happy memories. As with anything, owning a home has its many advantages and disadvantages. I know we are not the only ones to have a leak in the roof or have a water pump go (while they're in the shower!) but that does not mean it is any less real to us. I will have to shake the next person who asks how we're doing, listens patiently as we explain the woes of having to redo our roof etc. and then replies with "Welcome to home ownership!" As my husband pointed out, "It's a redundant statement." It does not help the situation and it does not console the person. We are thankful for our home but we are also human and can only take so much stress. Between the house conspiring to have everything seemingly go in consecutive order, the warranty that was purchased that does not cover anything of importance and the expenses that each of these repairs or replacements add to our regular monthly spending, we feel quite disheartened.


We are not sure what God is trying to teach us, but we think it is along the lines of "Trust!" I know I struggle with this simple action..."Let go and let God!" Despite our lack of faith at times, He has provided through these times of financial instability and my many insecurities, which I have touched on in past blogs. He is still there. He waits with open arms for me to unload my burden on Him and embrace Him. One thing is clear to both my husband and I, without God we would be sunk.


I am also struggling in another area of trust. It seems I do not have much of a filter on my truthfulness. I know I have mentioned this before: If you seem nice enough and are willing to listen, I will eventually start spilling my heart, only to consider afterwards if that was wise. I have walked away from many a conversation wondering "Hm, was that too much information?" I believe this stems from a overeager desire to point out my flaws or explain certain behaviours before other people do. I also blurt out personal struggles when I am trying to keep the peace. It is sort of like I am speaking one big disclaimer all the time. The world so indoctrinates us with political correctness, that I stumble over my words and start interjecting my statements with "Well..." "But not everyone..." "But that's my opinion" etc. It is frustrating and can make me quite inaffective as a Christian.

Sometimes I am so open, but the fear of offending also keeps all the important things close to my chest. I need to filter properly. Save the struggles for a testimony and for those who it is relavent to. I don't need to volunteer explanations. If someone walks into my house and starts making some well-meaning, but tactless, comments about the tidiness, I do not need to dig out all the baggage that has led up to that day and the house being in its present state. They dropped by unannounced, before I could get to it, and I owe them no explanation. However, there are people in my life who I really need to speak up about God to...and yet my tongue is numb. It flops about in my mouth barely articulating anything of importance between the nervous laughter and flustered hand motions that accompany my speech.


Yes, it goes back to keeping the peace. I have been attacked by loved ones and friends for my beliefs and because of those attacks I have become Melissa: Christian*. That little star implies there is a further explanation..."I am not perfect" has been taken to such an extreme with me that I share my flaws with everyone, lest I be accused again of being "a holier than thou (expletive)." Sigh So, perhaps there is a revelation in all this after all. If it is only meant for me, so be it, but I hope that you may benefit from my realization. Are you doing this too? Have you done with before?


I have people in my life, who I care about very much, who are walking down the wrong path or straying from the Truth. It breaks my heart, but I am mum most of the time. I write these blogs, sure, but none of the people I am thinking of read this. This is something I struggle with on and off. I miss being in a Christian school, where there were many opportunities for outreach and ministry...but then again, as our pastor points out, our testimony is not at church it is when we walk out those doors and into the world.


So, once more, I will get up and trust that God will provide and He'll use me where He needs me because He loves me, despite me. Wow, that's a lot of "me's" :) Remember, it is all about Him! Is there any reason to fret when He is in control? No, my heart knows this, just have to exercise that knowledge more often. Is there any reason to not speak of the eternal life He has given me? No! It is a diservice to those around me!


"And He said to them, “It is not for you to know times or seasons which the Father has put in His own authority. But you shall receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you shall be witnesses to Me."

(Acts 1:7-8a)

In Christ,

PS: Check out these songs!

Here I Go Again- Casting Crowns

Surrender- Barlowgirl

* From the heart.

True Fulfillment

Dear Reader,

As you scroll through this blog you may have noticed that somewhere along the line entries drop off. This is because I made the mistake of reverting inward and fighting my daily spiritual battles without accountability, friendship, family...and sans the most important support I could possibly find, God. Thus, I let His voice become a whisper in the background of my mind and heart. Unable to hear Him, there was nothing to share with you. How could I offer anything more than the dreadful ramblings of a sinner saved by grace, struggling to come up for air? Then again, I realize that they are not so "dreadful" if they offer the console to someone out there convinced they are alone...You're not.

I have learned many things in my absence from blogging, and God.

1) God never left me nor believed me to be so far gone that I would not come back.

2) Life really is a series of loopty-loops. Some take you soaring high, some pull you down, and either way it can happen so fast and be so dizzying that you find yourself whip lashed and nauseated.

3) I have often been convinced while in the lows of life, that I am a terrible Christian, an unacceptable human being. I have learned that the this is not true but the lows will come and it is how I respond that will determine my happiness and character growth. However, no matter how many times I fall back into the same pit, I am not alone. I am not the only Christian who struggles with faith and sin and God isn't going to abandon me.

Finally, I have also begun to learn about true fulfillment. My husband, Ray, and I had just finished watching something on the television and were about to get ready for bed, when the miniseries Comanche Moon caught Ray's eye. We decided there was no harm in staying up to watch it, seeing as we were sleeping in the living room anyhow (due to a leak in the roof above our bedroom). As it progressed, I found myself only moderately interested, seeing as I could swear it was the last installment of the series. However, as two hours came to a close the line "To Be Continued" appeared in simple white letters against the black backdrop. I found this to be strange but soon discovered this was only the beginning of the series, not the end. In my defence, my husband said they must have messed up because he remembers them advertising it as the last installment as well.

So, when the second of three parts came on, we settled down to watch it, hoping some clarity in the plot would be gained. It was entertaining enough but only left us with more questions. After church last night, with only minutes to spare, we walked into the door and I quickly turned on the television. For a third time, we cuddled up on the couch to watch the characters' stories to develop and waited intently for some sort of epic battle or plot twist. Things looked rather grim for one character and I hoped that there would be a satisfactory way to tie up the strings of her story...Yet, as I glanced at the clock I noted there were only ten minutes left. Those ten minutes painfully flew by without much conclusion or solution to any of the stories that had been opened up.

My husband and I watched Comanche Moon on a whim, and have not seen the Lonesome Dove series I believe it was meant to be a prequel to, but this is not meant to be a review. I was just baffled at how unsatisfying and unfulfilled the series was. I spent six hours, where I could have been sleeping or talking to my husband, traveling along a maze that just abruptly ended, without any way out.

If you're looking to feel fulfilled and satisfied by the things of this world, you're only going to be left empty. I began trying to fill the void in my life with anything but God, only to find the void cannot be filled be filled by anyone but God. It is something I knew in my head, but it finally hit my heart. That underwhelming and unfullfilling sense I found at the end of that mini series will never be how I feel when seek fulfillment in Christ. He will never leave me feeling empty if I let Him truly fill me.

That really is the root of what took me away this time. I am a housewife and I grow weary sometimes. I told my husband yesterday, after someone commented negatively on the cleanliness of my home, that I felt like I dropped out of college, not to become the women I admire who juggle kids, groceries and baking but rather to be a mediocre housewife who scrapes by on the bare minimum she must accomplish. It is not because I want to be that way, it is just how it has become...and it has been that way before. I step into the same pit of despair because I seek fulfillment outside of Christ. I believe God wants me to be a housewife for Ray. He needs me to do the seemingly small tasks around the house. When people minimize what I do, I start to do so myself. If they think I must be doing more, then what is the point of what I am doing now? Why bother? The "I can't" mentality quickly becomes "I don't." I just don't get the things done I need to...and so, when a well-meaning family member commented on how they couldn't understand how we could live "this way" (referring to the clutter and stack of dirty dishes---which in my defense were the right amount for a dishwasher load). It hurt. I already was berating myself for the clutter so it hurt...badly. I was in a funk the rest of the day. Shouldn't have been, but like I said, they hit a nerve that was already raw and exposed.

I broke down and sobbed.

Once I shed those tears, God let me know He was still there. After all the time I had spent seeking satisfaction from worldly things and fulfillment through others, He was there to remind that He never left and He believes I can succeed, because He is on my side. I just have to accept that help. I am not a terrible housewife...I'm just human and I need to learn not to rely on people for my validation. They will let you know down. They will vary in their opinions. I will never be able to please everyone or be deemed successful in every one's eyes. It only matters if I am successful in His eyes...and I know my limits and my strengths. I know when I am giving my all and when I have fallen. He knows as well. So, this is all that matters. I hope I start taking that to heart.

So, I am on the road to recovery, I believe. My husband and I attended Wednesday night service, thus entering the church for the first time in too long...and surprise, surprise, it felt good. It was fulfilling! You can put a smile on someone else's face, offer support...and in turn get a smile and support. God is in the place!

In Christ,