Trust in the Lord with all your heart; do not depend on your own understanding. Seek his will in all you do, and he will show you which path to take. (Proverbs 3:5-6 NLT)
What does "with ALL your heart" really mean? Do I
believe he is worthy of ALL my heart? Do I live like he WILL show me which path
to take? Do I actually lean on my own understanding even the Word of God tells
me not to? When do I seek his will since, if I am honest, is not in ALL I do?
A year ago today we set forth on a journey of trusting God
in moving our family to Fayetteville, AR. It was our last Sunday at our church
in Evansville, IN. It was the last day to say good-bye to the life we had known
for 4 short years. Tomorrow marks the one year anniversary of our departure.
After 8 long hours of loading a moving truck and storing some things that would
not fit (this was supposed to take 4 hours in my "perfect" planning),
we drove away from our rental house trusting God was working out a plan for us
that we only had a glimpse of at that point.
Here we are a year later, and while I still cannot see the
whole picture of his plan, I definitely see many more brush strokes and far
more colors than I would have used if I were him. So it is certainly by design
that the sermon series Pastor Charlie started last week in Habakkuk is all
about trusting God. Trusting him when circumstances get difficult. Trusting him
when he tells me to wait. Trusting him when I don't get my way. Trusting him
when life doesn't make sense. Trusting him to lead me when I want to take
control and do it myself.
It is also by design that God used the story of Nehemiah
(in the series "Guardrails" by Andy Stanley) last summer as a
foundation for my first year in Fayetteville and now he is using Nehemiah again
(in "Visioneering" by Andy Stanley) to grow my leadership skills in
my new job and develop the vision he has birthed in me for feeding hungry
children in NW Arkansas. I never stop being absolutely amazed at how he has
been preparing me and training me for years for the new roles I am taking on in
year two of the Fayetteville, AR chapter of our lives. In hind sight, I can be
truly thankful that I could not see all the details of God's plan when I
thought I wanted them. Now I need to work on that same thankfulness in foresight.
So the question that resonates in my mind today as I
reflect over this first year and look forward to the next is "How do I
continue to trust God more and wait for his direction with the new
opportunities in front of me?" I have learned over the years when God
really wants me to "get it" he comes at me with the same concepts
from several different angles. He is definitely doing that yet again with all
this trusting in and waiting on Him stuff. Just because I can see a little more
of the plan doesn't mean I should rush off in my own strength and tackle it all
without him. As I get more excited about the possibilities and caught up in
to-do lists, he keeps reminding me that everything I do must begin and end in
prayer and careful consultation of his Word. Oh, and by the way, before all
these "other things" there is a husband and 3 adorable children who
need my devotion - who deserve my undivided attention at various time EVERY DAY
- because my family is the first and best vision God has birthed in me.
So as we sang today my strength will rise when I wait upon
the Lord and allow him to grow and develop his plan for me in his perfect time.
Easy to say. Moving to sing. Tough to do, but I am ready!
"Everlasting God" by Lincoln Brewster
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jP2nz6PG8KM
Sunday, July 22, 2012
Wednesday, July 11, 2012
A visit that was long over due
Tyrone and I came by to visit you last week. Sorry it took 3 years, but it was much harder to make the short drive over to your resting place from mom and dad's house than I thought it would be. We spent some time the night before looking through family pictures so after our workout at the high school track I finally worked up the courage to visit. I think about you often and your picture hangs in our living room. I have a sweet picture of you and grandma on your anniversary years ago. You are looking at each other with an endearing smile that speaks volumes of the love you shared although we never really hear the words. The picture hangs in a shadow box framed in an American flag mat. A shell from your 21-gun salute and flowers that decorated your coffin sit inside the box.
It is HOT early this summer. Last week in particular reminds everyone of the drought of 1988. The grass is still green around your headstone, but is is crunchy to step on and brown spots will certainly start showing unless more rain falls soon. There is a vine of red flowers wrapped around your headstone and a veteran's emblem with a flag for the 4th of July. It seems like only yesterday our whole family stood here to say our last good-byes to you. That day is so vivid in my mind and my tears are no less real today than they were then. We sang one of your favorite hymns "In the Garden" that day. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8RadBma-4P4&feature=related Listening to it now is a wonderful reminder of you.
I don't know if you would remember my kids, Jeremiah and Maiesha - they were very little when you first started getting sick. They wanted to explore the big barn during the family gathering we had at your house. Much like we used to, I think they might have stayed to play all night if I had let them. There is no straw or hay in there anymore (big round bales are less labor intensive), but we climbed on the big beam in the east hayloft and I explained how I used to do the same. Jeremiah carried his toy pistol and Captain America shield. He is very interested in the Army right now so he would enjoy your World War II stories. I thought of you while we played and couldn't help but think you would have been smiling if you were there to watch them climb and pretent. I even showed them the wooden basketball backboard that still hangs in there. I explained to them how you put it in the barn for your kids when they were young. There are too many holes in the floor to play now. We have to walk carefully so not to fall through a hole disguised by straw chaff.
Things have been changing since you left for heaven. Some old has gone away and some new has come along. Dad and Adam tore down the old shed next to the big barn. It had served its useful life and now the cement pad is all that remains. They invest a lot of time remaking the 150 year old homestead into useful tools for 21st century farming. Adam remarried a year and a half ago and gained a step-son who calls him daddy. He and his wife have started a new business at their house that they really enjoy running it together. Tyrone and I moved to Fayetteville, AR a year ago after 4 years in Evansville. We also have another girl, Lydia. She is 17 months old and I often wish you could have held her. Mom and Dad are working toward a new "normal" since you have been gone, and I know they miss you too. When we were looking at old pictures of the family Dad stared at your pictures and commented about what a handsome man you were.
Grandma is her silly self, but the years are beginning to show. She is very stubborn about somethings including the hearing aids she must wear to help her regain a little of the hearing she has lost. Aunt Leota left us a few months ago so I guess Grandma is the last of her generation now. I overheard her talking about you with Eric. She said she had the best husband ever. It is hard for me to listen to her talk about you, but I love the stories she has shared about your "softer" side. I remember the first time I walked into your house after you were gone. I so expected to see you sitting in your chair watching baseball or listening to southern gospel music. That day I just collapsed into Grandma's shoulder and cried. I can still hear your voice sometimes booming through the house.
You are missed, but I am glad you are in heaven enjoying eternity with Jesus. I know it is selfish of me to wish you were here so I will just hold on to memories of you. I have more compassion toward elderly folks after watching you the last few years of your life. It was truly a pleasure to help care for you, the little bit I did, whenever we would visit. Because of your hard fought battle, I am much more aware of Alzheimer's and how I might be able to encourage families who are on that journey with a loved one. I promise I won't forget my favorite grandpa, and I will share my memories with my children. I am so glad we made sure to take pictures of you with our children so it will be easier to tell them about you. Thanks for your strength and even your stubbornness. I see you in my Dad and of course myself. I believe your legacy is living on in a way that would make you proud.
I won't let so much time pass by before I visit again. Love always, Lynette
It is HOT early this summer. Last week in particular reminds everyone of the drought of 1988. The grass is still green around your headstone, but is is crunchy to step on and brown spots will certainly start showing unless more rain falls soon. There is a vine of red flowers wrapped around your headstone and a veteran's emblem with a flag for the 4th of July. It seems like only yesterday our whole family stood here to say our last good-byes to you. That day is so vivid in my mind and my tears are no less real today than they were then. We sang one of your favorite hymns "In the Garden" that day. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8RadBma-4P4&feature=related Listening to it now is a wonderful reminder of you.
I don't know if you would remember my kids, Jeremiah and Maiesha - they were very little when you first started getting sick. They wanted to explore the big barn during the family gathering we had at your house. Much like we used to, I think they might have stayed to play all night if I had let them. There is no straw or hay in there anymore (big round bales are less labor intensive), but we climbed on the big beam in the east hayloft and I explained how I used to do the same. Jeremiah carried his toy pistol and Captain America shield. He is very interested in the Army right now so he would enjoy your World War II stories. I thought of you while we played and couldn't help but think you would have been smiling if you were there to watch them climb and pretent. I even showed them the wooden basketball backboard that still hangs in there. I explained to them how you put it in the barn for your kids when they were young. There are too many holes in the floor to play now. We have to walk carefully so not to fall through a hole disguised by straw chaff.
Things have been changing since you left for heaven. Some old has gone away and some new has come along. Dad and Adam tore down the old shed next to the big barn. It had served its useful life and now the cement pad is all that remains. They invest a lot of time remaking the 150 year old homestead into useful tools for 21st century farming. Adam remarried a year and a half ago and gained a step-son who calls him daddy. He and his wife have started a new business at their house that they really enjoy running it together. Tyrone and I moved to Fayetteville, AR a year ago after 4 years in Evansville. We also have another girl, Lydia. She is 17 months old and I often wish you could have held her. Mom and Dad are working toward a new "normal" since you have been gone, and I know they miss you too. When we were looking at old pictures of the family Dad stared at your pictures and commented about what a handsome man you were.
Grandma is her silly self, but the years are beginning to show. She is very stubborn about somethings including the hearing aids she must wear to help her regain a little of the hearing she has lost. Aunt Leota left us a few months ago so I guess Grandma is the last of her generation now. I overheard her talking about you with Eric. She said she had the best husband ever. It is hard for me to listen to her talk about you, but I love the stories she has shared about your "softer" side. I remember the first time I walked into your house after you were gone. I so expected to see you sitting in your chair watching baseball or listening to southern gospel music. That day I just collapsed into Grandma's shoulder and cried. I can still hear your voice sometimes booming through the house.
You are missed, but I am glad you are in heaven enjoying eternity with Jesus. I know it is selfish of me to wish you were here so I will just hold on to memories of you. I have more compassion toward elderly folks after watching you the last few years of your life. It was truly a pleasure to help care for you, the little bit I did, whenever we would visit. Because of your hard fought battle, I am much more aware of Alzheimer's and how I might be able to encourage families who are on that journey with a loved one. I promise I won't forget my favorite grandpa, and I will share my memories with my children. I am so glad we made sure to take pictures of you with our children so it will be easier to tell them about you. Thanks for your strength and even your stubbornness. I see you in my Dad and of course myself. I believe your legacy is living on in a way that would make you proud.
I won't let so much time pass by before I visit again. Love always, Lynette
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