The Thunder Rolls...

I have always loved and been fascinated by weather.  Twister is one of my favorite movies.  I love watching documentaries on tornados and hurricanes.  I love images of lightning storms or clouds or the sunshine.  Some of my fondest memories across the span of my lifetime have to do with weather.  Laying on the trampoline with my sister and our friends staring up at the sky and watching the clouds go by.  Hearing the start of a hailstorm and grabbing my sister's hand and running to the lean-to with the aluminum roof to lay on the woodpile and listen to the hailstones banging on the metal roof.  My husband and I would make rum and cokes and grab lawn chairs and a blanket and snuggle on the back porch, just under the eaves, and watch thunderstorms together, my heart skipping a beat with each flash of lightning, the echoes of the thunder ringing across the sky all around us.  Sitting on the couch with little girls in my lap, watching giant snowflakes fall and accumulate on the back deck, a similar picture from when I was a little girl, sitting on the couch with my mama and watching the snow fall in the light of the large yard light.

There was a time period recently where I think I lost touch with my love of the weather.  I had other, more important things passing by in my life, and I just didn't notice things much.  But, as I have grown in my faith and in my relationship with my Heavenly Father, all of the beauty of nature has started to spring anew once again.  I often find myself staring heavenward, looking at the amazing cloud formations.  I stop and take pictures of the gorgeous sunrises that happen to peak over the tree line to the east of my home.  I more deeply feel the warmth of the sunshine on sunshine-y days.  I treasure the rainbow that arch their way across the skies.  God's creation is incredible, and such a wonderful reminder of His power and His love for us.

I snapped the picture that is posted with this blog post while I was sitting at the Silverdale Waterfront.  I often go there to sit and think and pray and just be still, catching my breath for just a moment in this busy life.  I often meet my friend and prayer partner there and get to share the beauty of that place with someone I hold dear.  Not to give away a secret treasure, but it is a beautiful setting in its own right.  An almost 360 degree view of water and mountains, trees, and big, open skies.  My heart is filled with peace and hope and love as I sit and watch my surroundings, and my faith is immersed in the beauty that is God's creation.  This particular day, it was stormy.  As I sat in my truck, eating a quick lunch between errands, the wind was buffeting my sturdy truck.  The waves of the Inlet were crashing into the dock and onto the shore.  And in a short time, there was a pounding rain that came flowing across the water straight onto my parking spot.  The rain didn't really do much for my visibility of the water, but as I sat in my truck, I laid my head back and closed my eyes, listening to the sound of the beating rain on the roof of my truck.  My heart was still and calm, listening for the messages that I often find in the weather.  Suddenly, I opened my eyes and through the rain, there was a blinding light reflecting off of the water.  I leaned forward and there, right in front of my truck in the water close to shore, a blue sky opening.  Sun beams were streaming down out of the sky, and reflecting off of the water, filing my truck with warmth and joy.  I leaned closer to my steering wheel and looked straight up, and it was like a tube running from the sky to the water below.  Sunlight streaming, parting through the torrential rains that were all around.  I grabbed my cell phone, and aiming it skyward, snapping the picture posted with this blog.  And as my phone captured the sunshine through the storm clouds, the clouds swallowed up the blue skies and the beams were gone.

I sat there in awe, staring at the picture on my phone, wondering that had just really happened.  And then, the message in the mess flowed into my heart and into my ears, and I knew exactly what Father God was trying to share with me.  We all have storms.  We all have stuff that we carry.  We are all going through our own journeys filled with torrential rain and buffeting winds.  Dark clouds threaten to swallow us whole and wipe out every glimmer of sunshine and light that we so desperately need.  The clouds form around us, choking the life right out of us as we struggle with walk, or even stand, in the storm.  We fear that we may blow away, sink beneath the waves, be enveloped by swirling and twirling of the confusion of the storms all around us.  We feel alone and scared and desperate, waiting for the sunshine to return quickly. 

This event that I witnessed?  A message from our Heavenly Father.  We are not alone.  He does not abandon us in the storms of life.  He is right there, just beneath the surface, waiting for us to cry to Him for help and admit that we cannot navigate through the storms on our own.  All we need to do is muster enough strength to call out, "Father, help me!" and He will be there, parting the clouds, clearing the rain, calming the winds, showing you that there is still light and good and calm skies, but most importantly, that He is there beneath it all, waiting for us to realize that we cannot do the storms on our own.

I love weather!  But, I also realize the power and the strength that weather can show.  And I am getting much better at realizing that I cannot navigate the weather without my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.  I need Him guiding and guarding and protecting me always, through the literal storms, and the figurative storms that plague my life.  There will always be another weather pattern coming on the horizon.  It's up to you to decide if you are going to fear the weather, and try to make your own plan for getting through or surviving, or if you are going to admire that power and beauty of the weather, and know that you need someone far greater than yourself to help walk you through the storms in life.  I know what I am choosing.  I will continue to admire the clouds, snap pictures of the storms and the sunshine, watching thunderstorms with joyful anticipation, and watch Twister for the 5,000th time.  Because I have grown so much in my faith and my trust in Father God, that I am not afraid of the storms.  I know that He is right there beside me in them, walking me through, shielding me from the dangers, sheltering me from the pelting rain.  Am I perfect in this?  No.  I forget that sometimes the storms of life are overwhelming, and it just all feels like too much.   Friends that are ill.  People in pain.  Strangers hurting on the street corner.  It's hard to witness this and sometimes understand that He has a plan.  That He is in control of this weather.  But, I strive everyday to simply Be Still, and Know that He is God!  And with His help and His word, I will continue to grow and flourish in my faith so that one day, I will be able to deflect the nastiness of the storms all around and just know that He has it all under control.  It is in His hands, and I am simply to trust in Him and admire the beauty in the storms.

Jeremiah 10:13 says, "When HE utters His voice, there is a tumult of waters in the heavens, And He causes the clouds to ascend from the end of the earth; He makes lightning for the rain, And brings out the wind from His storehouses."  He is in control of it all.  Every storm in our lives, He is in control of.  He uses our storms to push us and to grow us and to make us uncomfortable, so that we run to Him for the shelter that He provides.  So we come to trust in His every move.  So we rely on Him for protection. 

I am thankful for the beauty in the storms, and for the Father that loves and protects me through them all.  Thank you, Father!

Amen!

Second Verse, Same as the First...

Albert Einstein defined insanity as "doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results."  I must be insane...

How many years have I tried to lose weight?  How many times have I sworn to eat healthy and exercise and finally get down to a healthy BMI?  How many programs have I tried and fad diets and exercise apps and new shoes and high tech workout clothes.  New treadmill?  Medal motivation?  When I look back to just one year ago, I had already finished a 5K...the Seahawks 5K.  I was feeling so good.  So proud.  So energetic and so eager to take it to the end.  FINALLY I had figured out the right combination for me to be successful.  I carried my New Years Resolution to run and complete my 5K and 10K apps from January all the way through November 5th.  And then, I broke my foot.

I tried hard to fight the sadness and depression...the wanting nothing but to eat myself into oblivion.  I fought the sadness of not being able to run.  In fact, I maybe overdid it a lot of the time after I broke my foot, pushing myself to move and keep going even with a broken foot.  Pushing a walker all over the streets of Seattle, hopping from room to room, not wanting to slow down enough to settle because who was I without running and exercising.  I don't think anyone knew that I was down and depressed.  That I wasn't sure what I was going to do with myself.  That each night I would cry in pain and in fear and in uncertainty of not knowing how I was going to be OK.  If I didn't have anything to drive me forward, how was I going to keep losing weight and keep being successful.

Well, I haven't been eating the best lately, and I find myself on the end of a splurge that has finally said "ENOUGH!"  My clothes are fitting tighter.  I'm winded walking up stairs and through hallways.  My back and my head and my joints are killing me.  I let myself go too far.  The difference?  I have caught myself before I gained too much of it back.  But, there's something more to this journey.  There's something missing from the walking and the WeightWatchers and the life style changes.  What's missing?  In my prayers and petitions to Father God, I have come to realize that there is a piece of me that needs healing. There is a piece of me that cannot keep the success going.  There's a piece of me that gets down to a certain weight, and the brakes come on, and the eating starts, and the not caring picks right back up where it left off.  There is a huge piece of me that I need to turn over the God and ask for Him to lead me through. 

I can have every minute of every day planned down to the second.  I can have the best meal plans, and the best food in the house.  I can have top of the line tennis shoes and state of the art equipment.  I can have the best apps money can buy and all the motivation in the world.  But that right there is the problem.  I work very hard to plan and try and make everything work out ok.  But, time and time again, I have been unsuccessful.  Breaking my foot was a convenient excuse.  I would have hit a wall and had a hard time even if my foot hadn't fractured that night in November.  I remember sitting on the table in the Emergency Room when a wave of relief hit me.  I could stop running...and then the fear that came right after that relief.  I had to stop running.  I had immersed my identity in this process, this journey.  I had become a runner, obsessed with the next goal, the next finish line, the next segment on my app telling me what to do.  I was burying my emotions and my guilt and my pain and my fear into the rhythmic beat of my feet on a treadmill.  I used that time to talk to God, so I don't consider it a waste at all, but it was superficial conversations.  It was avoidance of things that are deep within my soul.  It was running and problem-solving issues that aren't mine to solve. 

So, fatter and tired-er and sore-er, I am starting anew.  Insanity - doing the same thing over and over again.  Except this time, I'm not insane.  And I'm not crazy.  And I'm not avoiding anything.  I messaged my bestie about my realization a few days ago - I need healing!  I need to give this piece of my life to God. So much of my journey has been about healing and reinventing who I am in my Heavenly Father's eyes and reinventing who I want to be.  I am so much stronger and wiser and I am filled with peace and love and hope and faith!  But I need to give this last piece of my life, this last piece of insanity to HIM!

I'm starting again with the WeightWatchers and the running, although walking first and then when I get clearance from my surgeon, perhaps the running will commence again.  But, I am not taking the route of insanity!  I'm taking the route where I give this part of my heart and my soul to God, and He is going to walk me through.  He is going to heal this part of me.  He is going to take my hand, and gently walk me through the pain and the heartache and the insanity that I keep tucked away inside, that helps when the Tammy I have always known just stays fat and unhealthy.  So, back to step one, where I plan out everything, and then sigh a big sigh of relief as I realized that it isn't mine to stress about.  I'm giving it to my Father to take on and He will walk me through the weight loss journey.

This Easter week, as I walk through the week and think about the events that led from Jesus's triumphant entry into Jerusalem, and will eventually lead to my Lord and Savior hanging on a tree, I think about insanity.  I think about the simplicity of just turning it over to Him!  How freeing!  How healing!  How amazing to be able to pause in the madness and take a deep breath and feel alive once again!

John 8:36 says, "So if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed."

Free indeed!  Free at last!  Jesus went to the cross and set me free!  I need to only hand it over to him for complete, amazing freedom!  The Son has set me free!  And with help from Him through prayers and praise, I will be free indeed!

Amen!

The Beautiful Hand of God

I wasn’t just randomly dropped into some place in the universe. From the time before Adam and Eve, the time in those early first few days when God began the creation, He knew there was a spot for me on this earth. He knew that there was a path, and a plan, and that He was going to walk me through that path and plan, step by step, one foot in front of the other. He knew that there would be days when I wouldn’t be able to walk the path, and that He would have to gift me family and friends to bolster me up and walk the path with me. He knew that there would be days where He would have to carry me, sobbing and a wreck on His shoulder. He knew there would be days where I would turn my back to Him, not even acknowledging that He was there, not even wanting to turn to Him because of anger and hate and frustration.

I wasn’t just randomly dropped into some place in the universe. He gifted me with a family who loved me and raised me right. Taught me to love, honor, and respect others. Taught me resilience that I would need for the road ahead. Taught me to love deeply and fiercely. Taught me that safe havens do exist. Gifted me with the sister that He knew I would need throughout my life, in childhood and into adulthood also. Gifted me to live in a great town in a great state. A wonderful home on a farm smack dab in the middle of all of my relatives. A place that I could run through the pasture and not worry about where I was playing. A place with animals and chickens and gardens. A place where I could sink my bare toes into the rich soil and wiggle them as I ran through the rows of corn and green beans. A place where I could run down to the pond to see the baby ducks. A place where my childhood pet was our cow, Sally. The beautiful hand of God was in this situation.

I wasn’t just randomly dropped into some place in the universe. I was placed in a German-language preschool where I learned about where my father’s roots were. I learned to love the harsh sounds of the language. I learned about German culture and German food. Lessons I still remember and cherish to this day. The beautiful hand of God was in this situation.

I wasn’t just randomly dropped into some place in the universe. I was placed at Woodlands Elementary school, where the boy on the playground pulled my panties down as I was crossing the monkey bars in my first week there. Everyone laughed and pointed and stared. It still brings stinging tears to my eyes as I think about how embarrassed I was. I walked home that day, not wanting to tell my mom, but I burst into tears as soon as I saw her. The beautiful hand of God was in this situation.

I wasn’t just randomly dropped into some place in the universe because after that incident, my mom pulled me out of Woodlands and we went and toured Peace Lutheran School. They were

so nice, and so welcoming. I still remember Mr. Lynch running to the playground to lift me gently off of the bar that I was stuck on while he talked to my mom. And I still remember the sound of Mrs. Lynch’s laugh. How she invited the pastor to bring his German Shepherd in to visit our classroom some days. And how much I loved going to school there. How God placed another teacher, Mrs. Jones, on the playground at the same time we had recess. And how Mrs. Jones would love on me and hug me and tell me how much I would love church. And that I should tell my parents to bring me to church. So I would go home and tell my parents that we needed to go to church. And eventually, we did. And we are still members at that church. I got the best education I could have at Peace. I left 8th grade at Peace doing high school level work and it helped propel me to greatness throughout high school and beyond. The beautiful hand of God was in this situation.

I wasn’t just randomly dropped into some place in the universe. Junior High for one year at Fairview was a terrifying experience for a girl who had been in a class of 8 for her entire elementary career. But that first day, I read my schedule wrong and accidentally ended up in the locker room thinking it was time for P.E. When I asked Ms. Morey, the P.E. teacher about it, she asked me if I was trying out for volleyball. I had played at Peace and wanted to try out, but didn’t know that tryouts were that afternoon. If I hadn’t talked to her I might have missed them. I made the team, and I found a ready-made group of friends to help me with that transition to a big school. The beautiful hand of God was in this situation.

I wasn’t just randomly dropped into some place in the universe. As I started high school, I knew that I wanted to be a doctor. So, I studied hard, took a lot of science classes, volunteered at the hospital, and chatted often with Dr. Reimer, my pediatrician. I knew that I needed to work hard to get into college and have good grades for scholarships. Each semester, I was placed into classes with the best teachers, and the best students. I walked through each year of my high school career with confidence, and pride, knowing that medical school is eventually where I was going to land. I graduated 7th in my class of 410 with a 3.998 GPA and high SAT scores. Olympic High School and the teachers in that building helped me grow up and they prepared me for college. The beautiful hand of God was in this situation.

I wasn’t just randomly dropped into some place in the universe. As graduation from high school was approaching and I was figuring out where I was going to continue my education, I had it narrowed down to two choices. My first choice was the University of Puget Sound. It was a small school close to home. It had a pre-med program and we excitedly scheduled a tour. As we were walking on the tour, the guide asked about my grades and my SAT scores. I proudly shared with him what they were. We walked back to the admissions office and sat down, where he informed me that my grades and SAT scores were not high enough to qualify for any scholarships through them. I was crushed. My parents and I could not afford private school tuition. I cried almost the whole way home, and felt devastated as I knew that I would be going to my second-choice school, the University of Washington. The beautiful hand of God was in this situation.

I wasn’t just randomly dropped into some place in the universe. Once I started school at UW, it was amazing! I loved it! I loved the campus. I loved the dorms. I loved my classes. I loved that I was a quick bus ride from downtown. I was still close enough to home that I went home on the weekends and still had my independence during the week. I was registered for all of the pre-med classes and had my plan worked out through my senior year and medical school. Three quarters of calculus. Three quarters of physics. Three quarters of biology. And six quarters of chemistry. All the other classes and requirements that I needed mixed in at their appropriate times. I was doing well, working through the sciences. I was volunteering a ton of hours at UW Medical Center and sitting with young cancer patients at Children’s Hospital. I would take my books and sit in their rooms with them and study while they slept, and their parents got some time away to do things. I played video games and laughed and cried with them. I watched kids come and some kids go home. Some kids didn’t get to go home. And then I realized that I wanted to be a pediatric oncologist. I wanted to help these kids. I threw myself even more into my studies so that there would be no doubt that I would get into medical school. This was my passion. My drive. My heart soared when I walked through the doors to the area hospitals. I knew I belonged there. The beautiful hand of God was in this situation.

I wasn’t just randomly dropped into some place in the universe. At the end of winter quarter of my sophomore year, instead of studying for my organic chemistry final, I went to a party. I didn’t really want to, but my friend asked me to go with her, so I did. By the end of the evening, I was walking alone across campus with a bloodied head, bruised hands, tears streaming down my face, and the memories of my very own rape story that I never wanted to have coursing through my brain. I went home and showered forever, got dressed, and walked back across campus to start my third quarter organic chemistry final. I took it, with a head injury, searing pain in my skull, tears welling in my eyes, and the vivid memories of what had just happened the night before. One week later, I checked the wall to see my score. I failed the exam. I wasn’t surprised. I didn’t even really remember going to take the exam. Ashamed and not sure what to tell my parents, I made up a story about how I cheated on the exam and they gave me an F as my punishment for cheating. I couldn’t bear to let my mom know how irresponsible I had been. I was hurt and traumatized and buried it all so I would never have to think about it again. No one had to know. I was safe. I had survived. Everything was fine. The beautiful hand of God was in this situation.

I wasn’t just randomly dropped into some place in the universe. The failure of that assessment knocked me out of the running for medical school in my mind. There was no way that I was going to get into med school with that grade in chemistry. So, with tears streaming down my face, I took the list of the major programs at the University of Washington determined to find where I was now going to fit into this world. With a pen I slowly crossed out the ones that I had no interest in, the ones that sounded stupid, the ones that I’d never get a job with. The only major that was left on my list was speech and hearing sciences. I walked down to Eagleson Hall and went and spoke to the admissions guy. I picked up a major application and filled it out. I was accepted and began my course to earn my Bachelor of Science degree in Speech and Hearing Sciences. I loved my classes and my professors and I felt like I had found what I was supposed to be. I had always wanted to be a teacher when I was younger and a doctor in my teenage years. This career seemed to be the best of both worlds. I could diagnose my patients and my students with speech and language disorders and do the teaching part too during therapy sessions. The beautiful hand of God was in this situation.

I wasn’t just randomly dropped into some place in the universe. Knowing that I needed a graduate degree to be a speech therapist, I applied to seven graduate schools, hoping I would get into one. The competitive field of speech therapy meant lots of applicants for very few spots. I turned in applications at the University of Redlands in California, University of Hawaii, Western Washington University, Eastern Washington University, University of Portland, Idaho State University, and the University of Washington. I got into all of them except for the University of Portland (which was my “fallback” school AND the very first letter I received – panic ensued.) and the University of Washington where I was waitlisted. University of Redlands pursued me hard and was offering me tuition scholarships and room and board scholarships. I was just about ready to sign the documents and accept their offer of enrollment, when the Dean of Admissions at UW called to tell me that I was off of the waitlist and had just been accepted into the 2nd-ranked SLP program in the nation. The beautiful hand of God was in this situation.

I wasn’t just randomly dropped into some place in the universe. I started graduate school with classes and started seeing clients. Every quarter the staff would meet as a whole and would grade each student with either a 1 or a 0 based on their performance in both classes and then with writing reports and seeing clients. For the first three quarters, I was graded a 0. I had the same advisor for all of the clients that I saw that first year, and she was the one that swayed the committee to give me a zero. When she called me in to talk to me about why, she told me that I wasn’t bubbly enough and that I wasn’t fit to work with children. She told me that if I got one more zero grade that I would be kicked out of the program. I didn’t change anything about who I was. I kept moving forward and doing the best that I could. I never got another zero score and I excelled in my classes and with my clients. I passed the comprehensive examination and was eventually awarded my Masters of Science Degree in the area of Speech-Language Pathology. During my last quarter of the program, I was accepted into an internship position with Central Kitsap School District and completed that. After graduation, CK asked if I would interview for a position in their school district. I also interviewed for a position with the Pasco School District. They were throwing money my direction and were begging me to come and work for them. I hadn’t heard from Central Kitsap School District for a few weeks after the interview and assumed I didn’t get the job. I told Pasco that I would come and visit the district before making my decision. The next day, CK called and offered me that job. The beautiful hand of God was in this situation.

I wasn’t just randomly dropped into some place in the universe. I moved back in with my parents, bought my truck and started my new job. Life was good. I loved my schools and my coworkers. I worked with the best special education team in the district. We helped so many kids. I did my job and went home. I had good friends and we got together often. Life was good. The only thing I was missing was a boyfriend or a husband. I dated off and on, people that others would recommend for me. Wasn’t too interested. Then a friend convinced me to try online dating. I signed up for match.com and went on a lot of dates, ranging from a super fun day at the Seahawks game and Chinese food afterwards to a man flying out to meet me and ending up in tears on my parents’ kitchen floor because I told him I just wasn’t interested. After that last incident, I closed my account and decided that I was done! No more! A couple months later, I had a friend tell me to try the online thing again. She would pay for one month and if I didn’t find anyone I liked, I could be done and shut it down. My first contact was with a dispatcher from Wenatchee. Brian and I talked for a little bit online, had our first meet up two months later in April. He moved to Bremerton in June, proposed to me in July and we were married the following August. The beautiful hand of God was in this situation.

I wasn’t just randomly dropped into some place in the universe. I got pregnant right away with Amelia, our first daughter. She was perfect. After a while and many at-home behavior problems later, she was diagnosed with food allergies at one year old, and then sensory processing disorder at eighteen months. I was distraught and not sure what to do when someone suggested calling Harbor Children’s Therapy. There was one spot left on the list. She went to therapy for a year and made great progress so we were dismissed from therapy. After much worry and angst, we decided to try to get pregnant again and almost exactly three years after Amelia, Emerson was born. She was also perfect. Our family was complete! The beautiful hand of God was in this situation.

I wasn’t just randomly dropped into some place in the universe. Six months after Emerson was born, my husband came home after work one day to tell me that he had molested his 15-year-old niece. He was kicked out of the fire department, fired from his job with Cencom as a fire and police dispatcher, I kicked him out of our house, and he was eventually arrested and charged with two felonies. Life as we knew it was thrown into chaos and we had to adapt and change quickly. Life before was filled with busy days and diapers, dinner and bath time, happiness and laughter. Life after was filled with interviews by CPS agents, investigations and pictures being taken throughout our house. Running to family and friends for shelter and safety, and secrets flying all over the place. We were all left reeling, and as if it couldn’t get any worse, Brian chose to kill himself eighteen days from the day he told me what he had done. My husband, who I had fallen in love with, made two babies with, and shared life with, lit a portable gas grill inside his car, and died on a forest service road up in Sequim. The beautiful hand of God was in this situation.

I wasn’t just randomly dropped into some place in the universe. My physical and mental health deteriorated. I had pain and aches and headaches. I was anxious and depressed, but wouldn’t admit that openly to anyone, and wouldn't talk to a doctor about any of it because I wasn’t going to be diagnosed with “those things”. I was reliving my unresolved assault from all those years ago. I was thrown into nightmares and night terrors. I was nauseous and so medicated that I didn’t know where I was, or even who I was some days. I was blessed with family and also friends who are more like family and we navigated through neurologists and hospitals, rheumatologists and endocrinologists, cardiologists and allergists, specialist after specialist. When finally I made it to a very smart neurologist at Swedish Medical Center who diagnosed me with seizures. He put me on medication, told me to get counseling, and sent me on my way. The beautiful hand of God was in this situation.

I wasn’t just randomly dropped into some place in the universe. Much of the next couple years are a blur. I was still not feeling well, but getting better every day. I was getting stronger. But I still felt so tormented. So conflicted. I wasn’t living. I was existing. I heard voices. I saw shadows. I convinced myself that I was insane. I had two therapists diagnose me with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. I was in denial. Surely I didn’t have that label, any label. I was just tired. Or just sick. Or maybe just sick and tired. I wandered through life like a zombie, my friends and families prompting me where to go and what to do and how to act and what to say. My girls grew up super-fast, and with the help of those same family and friends, we took one step at a time, and wandered through life that way for a while. The beautiful hand of God was in this situation.

I wasn’t just randomly dropped into some place in the universe. One day, my friend had had enough and she reached out for help. Our world was suddenly filled with books and articles. Phrases such as deliverance and demons and prayer and the armor of God swirled in and out of our vocabulary. We began to explore our faith and our friendship and realized that we were destined for more in this lifetime. We began actively praying together and fighting these demons that were torturing and tormenting us and our families with our prayers and our declarations from God. We became stronger and more sure of ourselves in faith. We wielded the weapons of God and marched forward as members of God’s army. Life started happening again. I was living. My girls were living. I was invested in my life and what happened in it. I was not merely existing. I was living! I was living for God! I was serving Him, and praying and lamenting and reading scripture and throwing myself deeper and deeper into my faith. I was exploring things about religion and faith that I had never even heard of before. With the help of God, and my dear friend and prayer partner, I was taking back my life and the life of my girls. We were walking forwards as His daughters. I had never been more sure of anything in my entire life than I was about where God was leading us to go. His plan for us is amazing. He reached down and He scooped us out of the pit of muck and mire. He washed us off and has lead us to where we are today! The beautiful hand of God was in this situation.

I wasn’t just randomly dropped into some place in the universe. This is a summary of my life story. Looking back over the span of my life, God’s beautiful hands were covering us in all of these situations. The good and the bad. Each step that we take in our days is orchestrated by the Holy One, our Lord and Savior. He knows what is going to happen to us each and every step of the way, and He holds us in the palm of His hands. Some people question where God is in the bad moments. I don’t question that one bit. Look back over the twists and turns in my life! He was there, for each one. Sure I was assaulted. But I wasn’t killed! Yes, my life fell apart in the blink of an eye it seemed like, but it was all such a blessing in the end! He wasn’t hurting my daughter anymore. She was free of him and the torment that he put her through. Yes there were many twists and turns in my life. At any of those junctures I could have turned left or right and I would be living a completely different life. And when you go back further and think about generational twists and turns that have happened, you have to believe that there is some Grand Conductor, making everything flow the way that it is supposed to. My dad was born in Germany. My mom was born in Bremerton. Yet they found each other out of the billions of other people in the world. All of the choices that I made in my life are like living out a real-life choose your own adventure book. The crossroads that we are brought to set the course for the rest of our lives. But, I am so very thankful that I have a Mighty God that gave me the free will to make my own decisions, but also gave me the tools of His Word and prayer to help guide my path and my journey. And in those moments that I maybe didn’t make the right choice, and it led me to a less-than-favorable situation, He was there to pick me up, dust me off, and set me back on the course that He has planned for me. The beautiful hand of God was in all of these situations.

I wasn’t just randomly dropped into some place in the universe. I am eternally grateful for the course my life has taken, the good and the bad. Each step is a blessing. Each day we are given is a blessing. And each scenario is a choice. You get to choose where you go, but you also get to choose how you react in each situation. These situations can make or break you. For a while, I let them break me. I was broken and I didn’t know how to fix myself. Ah, but that, my friends, is the key. You can’t fix yourself. You have to let God fix you. He gets to be the one to fix you. He is the one that you can turn to when your path just isn’t going the way you think it is supposed to. I guarantee you that as you think you are floundering and being buried under the yuck, God already has a plan for deliverance and assistance for you. He is there to help you through, the good and the bad, and he knows what He wants for you out of this life. Keep walking one step in front of the other, and it is so much easier, and your future is so much brighter if you just stick with Him. He’ll guide you through. He’ll be there for you. The beautiful hand of God is in all situations.

Amen!

I Cannot Sleep…I Cannot Dream Tonight…

When things are off-kilter in my home, the first to go is our sleep.  My children are the same way.  Every morning for the last few weeks at least, I have been waking up little zombies every morning.  They whine and cry and beg for more time.  They throw little fits as I usher them to the shower and turn the water on, begging them to just shower, it’ll make you feel better.  That doesn’t work for our kind of tired.  The shower only makes you wet.  It doesn’t make you awake.  When the exhaustion creeps in and seeps into every crevice and every corner of your being, the water streaming onto your face only masks the tears for a little bit.  Things are off-kilter right now.  And our sleep is suffering.

Emerson, my usually chipper morning girl, trudges to the shower, crying and begging for it to be Friday so we can go to bed and sleep our way through the weekend.  Amelia, who is like her momma and could stay up all night long, has never been a morning person, but is even less so now.  Two mornings a week I wake her a bit earlier to jump in the shower first so she can catch a ride with my parents to school for early morning choir practice.  This morning’s wake up brought tears and begging me to let her skip choir and stay sleeping.  I coaxed her from under the covers and lied to her, telling her the shower would make her feel better.  When she was done she walked to the edge of my bed and grumbled, “Now I’m tired and wet and cold…” before she turned and walked to her room to pull clothes over her shivering little body.   And me?  I am used to no sleep.  It’s been a while since I’ve gotten the full amount of sleep I’m probably supposed to get.  Between babies and Brian dying and all that came with that package, sleep has sort of been an elusive dream at times.  It also doesn’t help that if I am processing something, it manifests itself in dreams, nightmares, night terrors, however I am going to work it all out.  I have been trapped in a night terror for three nights in a row now, searching for something, waiting for realizations to happen, and for my Father in heaven to eventually lead me down the healing path that I am destined for in this journey.  It’ll happen.  I never know how long it might take, but it’ll happen.

So, really, we all wake up little zombies.  I stagger my way through my day, fighting a five-day headache and wondering if I’ll make it until I can fall into my bed again tonight, knowing full well that I won’t be resting.  Knowing that I’ll be thinking and overthinking and wondering and then, when I do fall asleep, I’ll be fighting the demons in my nightmares.  Sometimes it gets to the point where I don’t want to go to sleep, so rather than fall into bed and risk being thrust into the darkness where I’m running and searching, and climbing, and crying, I force myself to stay awake.  Talking to friends and keeping them up until the wee hours of the morning so I can do anything but lay in bed and risk all of that all over again.

This morning, as I shooed Amelia out the door to choir, I jumped in the shower and cried.  Cried from exhaustion.  Cried because my babies are so tired.  Cried because my friends are not getting rest.  Cried because I’m so busy at work and my friends are sick or hurting.  Cried because people have lost loved ones.  Just cried.  One giant pity party.  Then, I could see Emerson’s figure outlined in the tinted glass of the shower door.  So, I stopped crying, got out of the shower, got dressed, and summoned her to the bed to snuggle with me.  She asked me why I was crying and I told her.  I told her that I was sad that we are all so tired and I wish that I could fix it.  And then, her tiny, sure, confident, also sleepy voice reminded me, “Um, you can’t fix any of this.  But God can!”  I smiled at her, and I grabbed my Bible and turned to Matthew 11:28 which reads, “Come to me, all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.”  Emerson asked what that means and it hit me like a ton of bricks.  I explained to her that it means that I am looking to find rest in all of the wrong places.  I am wanting rest in my big king-sized bed in the midst of troubles and heartaches.  I am wanting rest in my own head, fighting the demons by myself and relying on my own tenacity to get through this.  I am wanting rest from my headaches by worrying and panicking and thinking the worst.  I am wanting rest from the nightmares by working through things on my own and getting to the end of the dream so that I can solve…what?  This is not how I get rest.  I get rest by putting down the worries and the burdens and the pains and the fear.  I get rest by being still with Him and knowing that He is there and carrying me through all of this.  I get rest by praying and singing praises to the name of my Heavenly Father who is there to bolster me up, dust me off, and move me forward.  I get rest by letting go, and letting God.  He is the Master Planner.  He is the Wonderful Counselor.  He is the one that will walk us all through this, and give us rest.  Mathew 11:28.  God’s nighttime solution written just for me.  As I fight sleep and fight in my nightmares, He is standing next to my bed, holding my hand, wiping the tears from my eyes, and boldly stating: “Tammy, come to me.  You are weary and burdened.  I have rest waiting right here for you.” 

And this solution is for all of my friends and family, and even strangers that I don’t even know as well!  So, pray this out loud if you are struggling with nighttime issues, no sleep, insomnia, nighttime demonic attacks, nightmares, night terrors, whatever it is you are struggling with.  Insert your name at the beginning of this statement and read it knowing that it is presented in God’s sweet, gentle voice, “__________, come to me.  You are weary and burdened.  I have rest waiting right here for you.”

So, sleep tonight!  Sleep knowing that the Good Shepherd is standing beside your bed, wanting you to rest and find comfort in him.  The Shepherd will help you count sheep, and fall peacefully asleep in His loving presence.

All of Me...

The girls and I spent our morning off together at the movies watching the movie Sing. It was a very cute movie and such a nice chance to get away from everything with my kids. Sitting in a dark movie theater, it's the perfect time to just sit and think about nothing. Just enjoy a nice movie and enjoy the time away from it all. Except today, my mind was a million miles away from the movie theater as I thought and prayed and wondered about my friends who I knew had such a difficult night. My attention was torn between this cute movie and the six-year-old next to me asking a million questions like she always does during movies, and thoughts of my friends, weary and exhausted and being tormented by demons and difficulties and not feeling well.

As the movie played on the screen, my attention was being drawn towards the voice of Father God in my head, whispering messages for myself and for my friend. I was bringing my phone out occasionally to take notes on what I was thinking and hearing and needing to pass on, and also watching the scenes unfold on the giant screen in front of me. Gorillas planning a heist mixed in with words of being a woman of strength. A porcupine playing the guitar flashed across the screen just as I heard word of reading a passage out of 1 Samuel. The Bible in my vision flipped to Matthew just as a pig made plans to streamline her day.

The conversation with God started off on a message about being strong in the Lord, being a strong team and a strong union for Him and His glory. That the latest difficulties and setbacks we are experiencing are nothing for Him. We just need to obey Him and persevere and keep our eyes focused on our Lord and Savior.

Then, the gorilla on the screen began playing John Legend's song "All of Me". And tears welled in my eyes. All of me. Father God, I commit to you with all of me. In order to walk with Our Father and to remain faithful to Him, I commit to Him body, mind, spirit, and soul. He is the author and perfecter of my faith. He is the one that is omniscient and knows exactly the plans He has for me in my life. All of me.

I am not a perfect person by any means, but when it comes to friends and people, I am fiercely loyal. I tend to have just a handful of really close friends that I share with, and I cling to and treasure those friendships and relationships with my whole being. I have had the honor of walking through this part of my life with my friend Melody. What started out as a work relationship where I was intimidated by her expansive knowledge and no nonsense attitude around the special education meeting table we often shared soon turned into a bonded friendship that I wouldn't know what to do without her. And just a couple short years ago (I can't believe it's been years! Where does the time go?) we escalated our friendship even higher when we became prayer partners as well. Sharing God in our relationship has further bonded us on Christian love and respect for each other.  When things in our lives come up, where there used to be panicked tears and clinging to each other, we are getting better about turning it into prayer and turning it over to God. The basis for our relationship is prayer and faith and hope and peace and love. We have committed to praying together, taking communion together, reading devotions together, sharing our faith with each other. And the outcome has been incredible.

All of me. I commit to my bestie and prayer partner with all of me on this path and on this journey called life. Because being with her and being her prayer partner keeps me faithful and keeps my eyes on the important things in this life. Like Father God. Committing all of me to God, and also including Melody in that plan as my prayer partner, has deepened my faith to a level I have never experienced. When panic and heartache and difficulties set in, I have a different reaction than I used to. I would be riddled with anxiety and a wreck before too long. Now? I might have a quick anxious, panicked moment and then I realize that the God that I serve is so much bigger than anything I am going through. Anything I am experiencing. And in my feeling unbalanced and unsure and worried, I listen for His still voice because He'll be there. I just need to be still and listen for Him. And in the moments that I need some backup or extra reassurance, I turn to my friend and prayer partner, Melody. She reminds me that I am a daughter of the King. She reminds me that I am strong in the Lord. She reminds me that rather than throw words of anxiety and panic into the universe I simply need to turn to God in prayer. And we walk through those moments together.

We speak often about how God is all you need. Father God is the sole person that you need when walking through this life. He wants and needs all of me. All of my heart. All of my prayers. But, he gives us earthly companions to walk this journey with us and to remind us that He is with us and He has us in the palm of His hands. I have Melody. She is my person. My friend. My confidant. My prayer partner.

We all need a person. We all need someone who will prod us back on course when we are wandering aimlessly. We need someone who will drop to their knees and pray when the going gets rough. We all need a connection with someone who is there for us, and will remind us how amazing we are, and who is in charge and what our plan and purpose is. How blessed I am to have someone who is willing to give their all to me, and who I can give my all back! God and me and the best prayer partner ever. Find yours! Make that connection with someone! Give all of yourself to our Father, but also find someone to give your all to on this journey on earth.

Matthew 18:20 says, "For where two or three are gathered together in My name, I am there in the midst of them." God is in the midst of prayer partners. He there when you're alone also, but when there is more than one believer gathers together, amazing things can happen! Melody and I have seen amazing things together on this journey! And we are faithful that even more amazing things are coming! We just need to be still, know that God is with us, and give all of ourselves to Him.

All of me. I give all of me to my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. And I give all of me to the prayer and faith and hope and peace and love that surrounds my prayer partner and me. We were created for such a time as this, and great things happen when we are gathered in His name! Find your person! Find your prayer partner! Find the one that you want to walk through this crazy life with!

May God bless you on that journey, and may you find all of yourself on that journey! It's an amazing powerful path! And all of me is in for the ride!

My Hope is Built on Nothing Less...

On the way to work this morning, I prayed.  The whole way to work this morning, I prayed in tongue.  Something that I am not comfortable with at all.  Something that I do not feel gifted in at all.  Something that to me sounds more like a frog struggling to choke down a fly than prayer.  But it was all in tongue.  From the moment I hit Ridgetop, until I pulled into the parking lot at work.  And I sobbed all the way in also.  Coming over the crest of Ridgetop, it was like the sky opened and rays of sunshine beamed all over Silverdale, and over Maxim Mountain, and over my truck.  I was filled with the Holy Spirit and thus the praying in tongue and the sobbing.  It was so overwhelming, and so comforting.  I felt so loved and so helpless all at the same time.  And in the instant that I reached the light at the 303 interchange, I heard the words “Hope is real!” whispered into my ear.

I paused the praying and the crying, and my first thought was, “Of course hope is real!  That’s what we’ve been banking on for so long.  That’s what gets sucked away when we have doctor visit days.  That’s what we fight to get back to after talking to Swedish and doctors and nurses who are immersed in the everyday battles against glioblastoma.  But those doctors and nurses don’t have the hope that we have.”  Of course hope is real.

Thinking about the course that the doctors take in this seemingly losing battle, I realized that for so many people, hope is not real.  And this…this is our gift to others all around us.  Writing this not knowing what you are going to be telling me in a few hours, I am clinging to that hope.  I am clinging to seeing the words “IT IS GONE” come across my cell phone screen.  I am singing “My hope is built on nothing less than Jesus’s blood and righteousness.” And then the tears start falling again, because THIS is our mission right now from Father God.  THIS is what we are supposed to bring to others.  THIS is the most important thing that we are going to transfer to the non-believers and the sorta believers around us.  HOPE!

We have been the hopeless.  I have been the hopeless.  I have been one to sit, wondering what we are going to do without Clay in our lives.  I have jumped to the end and wondered what we are going to do.  I have been hopeless in this and felt totally alone and struggling with these emotions.  We cannot help ourselves out of this situation.  If we even tried, we would only end up with bigger feelings of helplessness and hopelessness that we find without Father God present.   I believe that this will be our message in the mess:  We have to strive to bring the news of Jesus Christ and all that He has to offer to others, the gift of hope, even when we are struggling to find that ourselves.

“The thief does not come except to steal, and to kill, and to destroy. I have come that they may have life, and that they may have it more abundantly.” John 10:10

The dictionary says that hope is “a feeling of optimism or a desire that something will happen.”  It is our job in this terrible situation, to show people our hope, and to bring hope to the situations that plague them also.  When we bring hope to others, we bring life.  It is life-changing what we are going through and what we have been through.  And not just the tumor!  Looking past the tumor, and the hope that we have found, this is life-changing!  When we bring hope, we bring life!  The hope that we have in Him is more than just asking God for something that we desire will happen, such as Clay’s complete healing; we have to amplify our hope and fully expect our miracle!  We need to pause and search for our answer somewhere among our praying, pleading, and expectation that God is going to answer our prayer.  I have faith that we will find exactly what we are looking for.  And that is the promise of restorative healing to Clay, and to all of us, that are part of this journey.  So many lives and hearts and souls will be saved because we have hope!

“I would have lost heart, unless I had believed that I would see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living..”  Psalms 27:13.

There are too many people in our world, in our communities, in our families that have lost hope.  There are so many hurts and problems and diseases.  So much cancer and heartache and broken families.  So many wars, political battles, and financial failures. It seems as if the world has no hope. 

Without God, the world is awful, dark, and hopeless.  But with the help of our Heavenly Father, we can make it through all of this. This situation that we're in? No matter what those scans say, there is hope! We maybe can't see it or feel it at times, but it is there for us! It is there within our grasp. Where is our hope? Our hope is built on nothing less than Jesus. Jesus Christ is where we go for hope. 

I Googled the phrase "Bible verses about hope" and found some sources for us:

Psalms 39:7 "And now, Lord, what do I wait for?  My hope is in You.”

Psalms 119:49 "Remember your promise to me, for it is my only hope."

Psalms 42:11 "Why are you downcast, O my soul? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise Him, my Savior and my God."

Psalms 33:18 "Behold, the eye of the Lord is on those who fear Him, on those who hope in His mercy.”

Faith. One of our other pillars plays into hope also. Have faith in Father God. He wants us to trust Him. We need to be in agreement with Him about this situation. Don't go by feelings. Don't live in the dread that we sink into because a doctor told us what he thinks will happen.  God does not want us to suffer.  God only has good plans for our lives.  Jeremiah tells us, "For I know the plans I have for you," says the Lord. "They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope." Jeremiah 29:11. 

There is no disappointment or hopelessness and loneliness or helplessness. We have hope! Another of our pillars, love, God's love is in our hearts and that will help increase our hope, even if it's buried way beneath diagnoses and prognoses and pills and appointments and scans and fear and sadness. There is hope! God's word is still there to encourage us in these moments:

Romans 5:5 " Now hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out in our hearts by the Holy Spirit who was given to us."

And our over-arching theme of STRONGER EVERYDAY comes into play with all of this too. The Bible is filled with words of "be strong, be of good courage, wait, fear God, strive for hope, wait patiently, be joyful in hope." Action words - our faith in action. Our faith comes alive when we are given words of hope and faith and peace and love. Speak these words of God over us and over this situation and hope will abound!

Psalms 31:24 "Be of good courage, and He shall strengthen your heart, all you who hope in the Lord."

Psalms 119:74 "Those who fear You will be glad when they see me, because I have hoped in Your word."

Isaiah 40:31 "But those who wait on the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint."

Romans 8:24 "For we were saved in this hope, but hope that is seen is not hope; for why does one still hope for what he sees?"

Romans 12:12 "Rejoicing in hope, patient in tribulation, continuing steadfastly in prayer."

I speak life over Clay and over you and over this situation. You mean so very much to me, and as I write this blog post, I want so much more than these words I am typing for you!  I want it to help you remain steady in your hope.  I want it to show the world that, even in the face of a glioblastoma and difficult prognoses, that we have hope!  My hope is built on nothing less than Jesus...we will be of good courage, be strong, and wait on the Lord. We will trust Father God with our lives, with Clay's life. We will continue to speak the four pillars, and our overarching theme, upon our lives everyday: Faith, Hope, Peace, Love, Stronger Everyday. We will speak these over our lives. Everyday. These gifts from God will carry us through. Speak these words everyday...and watch what God will continue to do for us as we walk along this path, this journey.

HOPE: Romans 15:13 "Now may the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, that you may abound in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.."

PEACE: Philippians 4:7 “and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.”

FAITH: 1 Corinthians 16:13 “Be watchful, stand firm in the faith, act like men, be strong.

LOVE:I Corinthians 13:13 “And now abide faith, hope, love, these three; but the greatest of these is love.”

Amen!

Just Forget the World

I have developed an internal mantra to help me cope with the day-to-day craziness that this world throws at me. I have written about it many times, and I preach it to my children often. "Be kind for we are all fighting battles..." Kindness goes a long way. And I don't think there is any other season in the year that screams and begs for kindness than Christmas. But it also seems to be the time of year where everyone is busy, things are chaotic, and patience runs thin. An example: I was driving through the Costco parking lot when a truck did not stop and raced across the road to the next aisle of parking spaces. My first reaction, with my children in the car, was to scowl and say (out loud) "Thanks for cutting me off, jerk face." And then, I sucked in my breath, asked Heavenly Father for forgiveness and then out loud said "I'm sorry for saying that. Merry Christmas." He couldn't hear either one of those exchanges. But I knew about them and I wasn't kind in my first reaction. 

Being kind is hard. Especially when you have your own stuff to contend with. I was trying to get a spot near the store so I could just run in and grab my gift and run back home. But maybe he was trying to do the same. We all start our moments with our own agendas. We all start thinking only of getting from point A to point B quickly and safely. We don't realize sometimes that there are millions upon millions of people in this world with a similar agenda. 

This reality came crashing down all around me this morning. This morning, I had to work hard to be kind. I had to work hard to see the perspective of other people. People that I didn't want to see their perspective or maybe even be kind to them. Who are these people? My in-laws. 

When Brian passed away there was a lot of hate and discontent. There were a lot of little events that were direct domino effects from Brian's suicide. Brian killed himself and as if that wasn't bad enough, there were a lot of things happening on the peripheral that were just as crushing as that first initial event. 

Even though I write a blog I am a very private person. My very best friends might argue with me because once I am comfortable with someone I spill my guts to anyone who will listen, but it takes me a while to share with people. And there are events that happened during that time that only my closest people know about. Some of those events triggered hate and discontent between my family and my in-laws. We were all reeling, working so very hard to simply get from point A to point B, but not really even knowing where point B was. I felt like I was wandering aimlessly through life, hoping I eventually made it to point B. And by the grace of God, and the help of family and friends, we made it to point B. We staggered out of the wilderness and landed in a place of peace and grace and mercy, knowing that we were safe and comfortable and that God was going to carry us through. 

This morning we did Christmas with my in-laws. We met at the McDonalds in Poulsbo because I need boundaries in my home and I need to feel safe and I need my children to feel safe.  So that happens on public turf so that it takes it out of the home that we have worked so hard to make our refuge on a time of chaos.

Sitting at the table and watching them and hearing them talk about their lives made me realize how much kindness they need. The lines and the age across their faces tell the story about the last six years. I was reeling losing a husband and the joy of a future as a family. They lost a brother and a son and an uncle and a grandson. I was learning secret after secret and trying to figure out how to build my life over from the ground up. They were trying to figure out how their life was going to look in the chaos and the trials also. We were all trying to get from point A to point B. Watching them all today I think they are still trying to figure out how to get to point B. They looked sad and lost and hopeless and my heart broke for them.


It has impacted me all day. Thinking about my life and how much it has changed and thinking about their lives and how much they have changed. One life event was the catalyst to a whole series of events, and still triggers events and feelings and emotions for all of us. I don't know that I will ever allow them into my home. I don't know that I will ever be able to go to Sequim to see them. I don't know that I will ever be able to interact with them and not have some sort of flashback or memory or anxiety. But, today there was a new feeling. A feeling of sorrow and pity and forgiveness. 

I have been blessed! So very blessed! My journey has not been easy, but I have fought and clawed and prayed my way to where I am today. I am confident in who I am and I love the family that I have raised. Looking at them I had to desire to share with them the life that I have found. The peace of God, which passes all understanding. The joy of being a daughter of the King! He heals! He redeems! He carried me through and set me up on my feet. I am in such a good place right now and I know that I am here because of Him and the relationship that I have forged with Him. 

Listening to the damage that continues on their life, and being someone that wants to fix everything, I have been praying for them since we left them. Praying that God will intervene on their lives and bring them the peace that He is capable of. Praying that God would place forgiveness in my heart so that I may approach them with how good life can be. Praying that God would help me realize that they are lost like I was, and simply looking for their Point B where they can finally exist in the world and not wish to forget the world. Because I've been to that point. The point where I just want to crawl into bed and forget the world, and hope that the world would just forget me also. 

My heart hurts for them. They lost someone that day six years ago too. And they are just trying to find point B still. I hope and pray that God has a plan for them to find their point B. I know He does! He is amazing and powerful and so very loving. And maybe it's my job to help them find point B. Or maybe it's simply my job to be kind and pray. They are fighting intense battles still. And my heart hurts for them because I know just how lost you can get on this journey. So I forgive. And I pray. And I cry tears for them. And I plead that God will guide them in their journey just as He guided me in mine, and continues to guide me in mine. 

I will also continue to pray for guidance in this journey as I work to forgive and want them to continue on their journey, but also guard my heart and my soul and my mind. I don't want to sacrifice my progress, the progress of my family, for anyone else's progress. But I do want the joy that I have experienced for them. 

So my advice to them, and to anyone else that might be struggling to get from point A to point B? Just forget the world, and turn instead to Our Heavenly Father for guidance and direction. He has the map to your life path. He knows where He wants and needs you to go. You might as well just turn to Him for directions. 

My thoughts and prayers are with my inlaws. And with all people fighting battles. We all need kindness. We all need help in fighting those battles. And we all need Jesus. He'll carry you through. He'll carry them through. He'll carry us through. We just have to let Him! Forget the world. But be kind. For we are all fighting battles...