Advent Hope (Grief and Joy Together)

 Today is the first Sunday of Advent~HOPE. I wasn't sure if I was going to write anything for Advent this year, because I've been in a (partial) deep-down place. I wonder, sometimes, if it's best to be quiet. People usually want to hear something uplifting, especially around Christmas, but let's be real here. It stirs in my heart that there are others out there in a "place," too. I want you to know you are not isolated and alone. We are all human beings, and because we are, there will always be a cycle of brokenness, sorrow, or grief. No one, absolutely no one, escapes it. I have had seasons where nearly everything felt like heartbreaking grief. This year isn't quite like that, but the grief that is there is very real. At the same time, I have so much around me for which to be grateful. Let me tell you, our four-year-old little grandson is JOY personified! 😉 He is DAILY joy! I have been thinking about this for a couple of weeks and the other day, I wrote a note to myself in my phone, "You can hold joy and grief at the same time. We are human, and being human is tricky." So today, on this first Sunday of Advent, where we are to focus on HOPE, it's okay if it's tricky. I feel joy and in moments, I also feel sadness... and that's okay. What is sad does not have to swallow up what is a gift, and no matter what grief we are experiencing, we all have the ultimate gift of hope in Jesus. This is why He came for me and for you, so that in our darkest days of human sorrow, we would all have His piercing Hope-light to get through. It doesn't mean it will all make sense (1 Corinthians 13:12), but He is HERE with us right in the middle of what makes us cry as well as what makes us sing. It's kind of His specialty. No matter what you are feeling or experiencing, I pray you will reach out for the HOPE that came all those years ago in a humble stable in Bethlehem. May you cling to that Hope and never let go, my friend, in grief... in joy... or both. ❤️

Always grace.

Shanda

 

                 

Seasons

Today is the first day of autumn, and I am READY. 

A few weeks ago, I gathered and placed our fall decor to prepare our home for the changing season. There are familiar decorations I enjoy unboxing that I have collected for three decades from our early married years and into all the growing-up years of our children. I freshened our bedroom with a brand-new pieced quilt with calico fabrics in hues of red, orange, yellow, and brown. Outside, I removed weary annuals that were spent after a summer of showing off their beauty, and I planted fall mums in their place. In a couple of weeks, I will replant tulip and daffodil bulbs with the anticipation and hope of their beautiful blooms next spring. I love autumn. I love everything about this season from warm colors (my favorite), cerulean skies, crimson sunsets, bonfires, football, pumpkins, hayrides, fuzzy blankets, apple cider, and cozy evenings by the fireplace. Autumn is unique, because there isn't another season that really touches on all four of the seasons quite like autumn does. Summery weather lingers for days and sometimes weeks, yet autumn also ushers in the magic of winter. The spring flowers that will be enjoyed were thoughtfully planted many months prior during the early days of fall. The seeming loss and devastation of autumn is also quite unique. My grandson and I read a story today about a little fox experiencing his first autumn. The fox's tree friend was dropping leaves as the worried young fox frantically tried to collect the leaves to give back so the tree could be "fixed." As trees light up in fiery reds, glistening golds, and inferno oranges the beauty of the landscape tapestry is breathtaking, but also fleeting. As wind, other weather, and time strip deciduous trees bare, the contrast from an explosive backdrop of stunning color to stark, gray, and bleak does feel a bit devastating, but a little deeper perspective reveals the gift of autumn- permission to take necessary rest. This is the design of things, even the design of us. The little fox was obviously unable to restore the leaves to the tree. Sometimes we have to surrender and embrace what we are powerless to restore, as well. 

What season are you in? We've had some tough recent days and weeks as a country and as a human race. It's a mess around here, friends. I am willing to say, knowing how life is, that maybe you (like me) have had some difficult "closer to home" days, months, and maybe even years, too. When I say I am READY for this next season, I mean that from the soul of my being. Let the leaves drop to the ground, surrender this, (whatever THIS means to you) to the One who made us, and trust Him that there will be some sort of something to make sense of all we are trusting Him for. I don't say this lightly. I usually rebuke things that sound like platitudes, but I know as the uniqueness of fall has shadows of all the seasons, so do our lives. There is beauty in the mess and even if the heartache doesn't make sense, there might be something in another area of our lives that brings joy to balance the way of things. This is how autumn speaks to me this particular turn of the season. I am here holding fast and letting go all at the same time and praying for the trust I need to be in the center of the design of it all. Fall has always been my favorite. I will give myself permission to embrace and even celebrate all the things I love that make me feel warm and cozy in our little corner of the world, while simultaneously holding the sorrow that still needs held. God bless you with grace as you do the same. In their time, let the leaves fall. Sometimes "fixing" looks bleak and gray...but also a little bit like rest.

Always grace,

Shanda

I'm Still Here (Part Two)

If you're here reading this, you know I'm back. It's been a while, five years to be exact. I've been taking some time to read over some of my blog entries since I first began sharing in 2011. Dotted along the past 14 1/2 years, those entries have marked some part of my/our journey. It's almost a little bit strange, because our lives are so different from when I first started writing. I tend to write about what I am feeling or going through at the time, and to be honest, I have no idea where this new phase of writing/sharing will head, but I am here as God leads me, even if my life is still in a little bit of no man's land. I am a little bit older now, and with some added life experience and maturity, I'm not as concerned about my writing sounding pretty or descriptive. There is a time and place for that, and it may or may not end up here in this space. It is more important to me that TRUE authenticity (not the mocked-up version for hits, likes, and followers), transparency (even when it's not pretty), humility, truth, and grace remain the top priorities in this space. I do know that one thing will be different. The REAL WRITER/COMMUNICATOR  in the family (my IronMan) will also be sharing here. 😊 YAY!

I am a fairly sensitive person, and if I am completely honest, I have some reservations about doing this again. I care way too much about what people think, even if what they think is based on their own misconceptions or even their misconceptions of truth. I'm working on this, on not caring (as much). I believe it stems from a conditioned trauma response from being an abused child. Sure, if someone loves you and cares about you and comes to you with a genuine concern, that is something that I will receive with true humility, even if it's hard to hear or process. But gossipy tongue lashings, quiet slanderous whispers, and accusatory finger wagging, even from fellow believers, well, it's like my sweet grandmother always used to tell me, "Shanda, don't worry about it. GOD SEES EVERYTHING." This truth helps me to attempt to let go of what others think, but it's still hard. I shared some of my reservations about writing again with IronMan, too. Listen. We have been through hell and back a few times over. I have even caused some of that hell myself. This is me being completely transparent. I have indeed been to the "edge of me." I've wrestled with God and probably the devil a little bit, too, but IT IS THE PERSISTENCE OF GOD'S COMPASSIONATE GRACE FOR ME AS HIS CHILD THAT IS THE LIVING VICTORY IN MY LIFE, and that miracle is something to be shared. I am broken, and have also broken things. BUT GOD... and I mean that from the very soul-marrow of my being. In His great love for me, and his tremendous mercy, I am a BROKEN VICTOR. If you have decided to use my surrendered-to-God brokenness as a weapon against me, that is your choice. If you are only comfortable with a seemingly perfect Christian sharing faith things with you, then, gently, this space will not be for you, and that's okay. Bless you as you move on from here. Sincerely. The journey of authentic faith in Jesus can be a messy one, especially, when you believe that God is in and through all. FAITH CAN GET TANGLED UP WHEN HARD THINGS COME. That's why I think I/we are here...to be that voice of some possible untangling. But like I said, I am a sensitive human, and I know I have a difficult/broken past. Sometimes, I feel like I shouldn't have a voice or space like this at all. Others would quickly dismiss me and deem me disqualified, and maybe I would dismiss me, too! But again... God. It's about Him, and His gracious work of rebuilding from my ashes. IronMan sent me a message last week. It has given me the bravery I need to keep going. I questioned everything with him, and this is what he told me:

"YOU SHOULD WRITE. WRITE SENSITIVELY, BUT ALSO UNAFRAID. DON'T WRITE THINKING ABOUT WHAT ANYONE ELSE WILL THINK. YOUR AUDIENCE IS ALL THAT MATTERS. WRITE COURAGEOUSLY. FOR THEM."

I will try. In my broken-best. I will try.

I believe this will be the last re-introduction type post (unless IronMan wants to share a little before he begins writing here). I felt led to say some of these things out loud, and if you are still here sharing this journey with us, thank you. Perhaps we can hammer out the difficulties of faith as well as the joys... together. Peace to you until next time. ♡

Always grace,

Shanda

p.s. See that image of the cross? I posted the perfect, unobstructed picture of it on my previous post, but this one? With all the wires, the pole, the scrubby brush and even the bird on the wire, well, it seemed appropriate for this post. Faith isn't perfect, and the view might be obstructed or tangled. Sometimes you need to shift your perspective, and that perspective is the difference between the two images. A little further up the mountain, and the wires and tangles and brush were no longer in view... just the cross... and I know there is a lesson in that. A LITTLE FURTHER UP THE MOUNTAIN...

I'm Still Here!

Several months ago, I came across a Pinterest post where someone had shared a link to my blog. There were a couple of comments underneath it, but the one that stuck with me said, "Why isn't she writing anymore?" IT HAS BEEN FIVE YEARS since my last post (gasp- five years). There is only one appropriate answer to the question posed on Pinterest. In short, the reason I wasn't writing anymore is "life." If you know me personally, or you have followed my humble ramblings, you know our journey has not been an easy one. The last few posts I shared were about kicking, scratching, and clawing my way to keeping faith, and to be honest, I felt like I ripped open my heart and bled for people that might have been questioning God's faithfulness just like I was. I always want others to know if they are struggling, they are not alone. I believe following Jesus can be messy and hard, and it seems like churches (or Christians) across the board aren't honest about the impact grief, pain, and suffering have on faith, especially if that suffering is continual, or the loss is tremendous. After those last few posts, life really didn't quit, and to be honest, I felt like it was a time to be quiet, so I was. Has life stopped shooting arrows at us now? No. We are currently going through some things as a family that nearly derailed me/us entirely. But even so, I feel like the words might be stirring again. That tells me that some measure of healing and growth has occurred within the years of space of being mostly "still." Faith, trust, and belief can be fragile at times, but I know I AM STILL HERE because God has held onto me, and maybe that is something to write about. 

My blog has never (and will never) be a space for any kind of agenda or promotion. I have restricted my own social media and currently only have a pathetically small Instagram account, so when this very post I am writing here today goes "live," I expect about three people will see it, and one of those will be my husband. 😉 From my very first post in 2011 to now, my heart has always been towards this humble space that those who find it were meant to, whether it's two people or two-thousand people. Each person matters, and I am definitely not about the numbers. I plan to share when I feel led/stirred, and this is just a quick and humble re-introduction to let you know...

I AM STILL HERE! 

More life and faith ramblings are coming soon. Thank you for being here. ❤️

Always grace,

Shanda

God is Not Faithful... Two Years Later, and a Little Hope

Two years ago, I wrote the single most difficult piece (to date) that I have publicly shared on my humble little blog. A year after writing that heart-rending piece, I also shared a one year update. Both of those pieces can be read HERE and HERE. I wasn't sure if I would revisit "God is Not Faithful" again, but this past week I felt led to share something that I came across that might be a tiny bit of an encouragement to those still fighting for faith in the trenches. Since the anniversary of posting the two original pieces just passed, I sensed it (humbly) as a confirmation. This is going to be a very different piece from what I normally share. I want you to read the scripture for yourself and glean what God might stir in your heart. I will share a few of my own thoughts at the end.

***********

Last week, my daily Bible reading had me in the book of Lamentations. I am not going to "cherry pick" here. I want you to be able to read the entire chapter as a whole. Some of the trauma the author experiences might be relatable to you, and some of it might not. We all walk different journeys, so I felt it important to include the chapter fully intact here. 

LAMENTATIONS 3 (New Living Translation)

I am the one who has seen the afflictions

    that come from the rod of the Lord’s anger.
2 He has led me into darkness,
    shutting out all light.
3 He has turned his hand against me
    again and again, all day long.

4 He has made my skin and flesh grow old.
    He has broken my bones.
5 He has besieged and surrounded me
    with anguish and distress.
6 He has buried me in a dark place,
    like those long dead.

7 He has walled me in, and I cannot escape.
    He has bound me in heavy chains.
8 And though I cry and shout,
    he has shut out my prayers.
9 He has blocked my way with a high stone wall;
    he has made my road crooked.

10 He has hidden like a bear or a lion,
    waiting to attack me.
11 He has dragged me off the path and torn me in pieces,
    leaving me helpless and devastated.
12 He has drawn his bow
    and made me the target for his arrows.

13 He shot his arrows
    deep into my heart.
14 My own people laugh at me.
    All day long they sing their mocking songs.
15 He has filled me with bitterness
    and given me a bitter cup of sorrow to drink.

16 He has made me chew on gravel.
    He has rolled me in the dust.
17 Peace has been stripped away,
    and I have forgotten what prosperity is.
18 I cry out, “My splendor is gone!
    Everything I had hoped for from the Lord is lost!”

19 The thought of my suffering and homelessness
    is bitter beyond words.[a]
20 I will never forget this awful time,
    as I grieve over my loss.
21 Yet I still dare to hope
    when I remember this:

22 The faithful love of the Lord never ends![b]
    His mercies never cease.
23 Great is his faithfulness;
    his mercies begin afresh each morning.
24 I say to myself, “The Lord is my inheritance;
    therefore, I will hope in him!”

25 The Lord is good to those who depend on him,
    to those who search for him.
26 So it is good to wait quietly
    for salvation from the Lord.
27 And it is good for people to submit at an early age
    to the yoke of his discipline:

28 Let them sit alone in silence
    beneath the Lord’s demands.
29 Let them lie face down in the dust,
    for there may be hope at last.
30 Let them turn the other cheek to those who strike them
    and accept the insults of their enemies.

31 For no one is abandoned
    by the Lord forever.
32 Though he brings grief, he also shows compassion
    because of the greatness of his unfailing love.
33 For he does not enjoy hurting people
    or causing them sorrow.

34 If people crush underfoot
    all the prisoners of the land,
35 if they deprive others of their rights
    in defiance of the Most High,
36 if they twist justice in the courts—
    doesn’t the Lord see all these things?

37 Who can command things to happen
    without the Lord’s permission?
38 Does not the Most High
    send both calamity and good?
39 Then why should we, mere humans, complain
    when we are punished for our sins?

40 Instead, let us test and examine our ways.
    Let us turn back to the Lord.
41 Let us lift our hearts and hands
    to God in heaven and say,
42 “We have sinned and rebelled,
    and you have not forgiven us.

43 “You have engulfed us with your anger, chased us down,
    and slaughtered us without mercy.
44 You have hidden yourself in a cloud
    so our prayers cannot reach you.
45 You have discarded us as refuse and garbage
    among the nations.

46 “All our enemies
    have spoken out against us.
47 We are filled with fear,
    for we are trapped, devastated, and ruined.”
48 Tears stream from my eyes
    because of the destruction of my people!

49 My tears flow endlessly;
    they will not stop
50 until the Lord looks down
    from heaven and sees.
51 My heart is breaking
    over the fate of all the women of Jerusalem.

52 My enemies, whom I have never harmed,
    hunted me down like a bird.
53 They threw me into a pit
    and dropped stones on me.
54 The water rose over my head,
    and I cried out, “This is the end!”

55 But I called on your name, Lord,
    from deep within the pit.
56 You heard me when I cried, “Listen to my pleading!
    Hear my cry for help!”
57 Yes, you came when I called;
    you told me, “Do not fear.”

58 Lord, you have come to my defense;
    you have redeemed my life.
59 You have seen the wrong they have done to me, Lord.
    Be my judge, and prove me right.
60 You have seen the vengeful plots
    my enemies have laid against me.

61 Lord, you have heard the vile names they call me.
    You know all about the plans they have made.
62 My enemies whisper and mutter
    as they plot against me all day long.
63 Look at them! Whether they sit or stand,
    I am the object of their mocking songs.

64 Pay them back, Lord,
    for all the evil they have done.
65 Give them hard and stubborn hearts,
    and then let your curse fall on them!
66 Chase them down in your anger,
    destroying them beneath the Lord’s heavens.

The author's sorrow is tangible. He (most scholars attribute the author to be Jeremiah, but I am not a theologian, and the strict importance isn't prevalent to the point I want to make) feels crippled, debilitated, abandoned, lost, confused, and hopeless for most of the entire chapter. However, a third of the way into the chapter, a few steel verses undergird this crisis and its truth bridges his grief beginning with three little letters: 

YET. 

"Yet I still dare to HOPE when I remember this: The faithful love of the Lord never ends. His mercies never cease. Great is His faithfulness; his mercies begin afresh each morning... The Lord is my inheritance; therefore I will hope in him." (Lamentations 3:21-23)

There have been songs and books written about these verses. They are familiar and held dear by many Christians. To some, the familiarity may have reached the status of distasteful platitude, and maybe you'd rather not hear them while you feel swallowed up in your own pain. To the latter group, I pray that my simple thoughts might bring you some fresh hope. 

"I will never forget this awful time, as I grieve over my loss." (Lamentations 3:20)

When I read this verse this past week, the word grieve stood out to me. It is present tense. The author is currently grieving. His grief hasn't passed. He is still in the midst of pain, pain which he is forthcoming, transparent, and bold about. Right in the middle of that piercing pain, right in the middle of the mess of life and the anguish and sorrow, the author declares his truth that everything is NOT OKAY, yet he also declares further truth that GOD'S LOVE IS FAITHFUL and HIS MERCIES NEVER END. These are not mutually exclusive. They are both possible at the same time. In fact, because life is so...well...life-y, it is PROBABLE that both truths coexist. I am not going to get into all the ways that the church and Christians sometimes dismiss pain and expect rapid surrender to God. I simply want to leave you with the encouragement that in the midst of grief, loss, pain, sorrow, doubt, and anguish there is a yet, and the yet is the faithfulness of God that loves you and floods you with his mercy. I hope like Jeremiah and ragamuffin little me, too, that you will "still DARE to HOPE." You are heard, you are not abandoned, you are loved, you are seen, you are redeemed. Even if you don't feel it. Even if you are suffering. In grace, I humbly share...

"Therefore, I will hope in him." (Lamentations 3:24).