20 Questions for 2012

20 Questions for End of the Year Reflections

1. What was the single best thing that happened this past year?

We bought a house and then I fell in love with it,  for this nomadic missionary kid that is quite a feat!

2. What was the single most challenging thing that happened?

For the first time in three years, I actually had to think about this question because no obvious answer came to me right away. Such a beautiful miracle!  I suppose the most challenging thing has been the journey of becoming certified to be foster parents. The paperwork and inspections and interviews are the EASY part. The part that I did not expect was the emotional and mental roller coaster that I would feel preparing to step into this. I am still scared silly!!

3. What was an unexpected joy this past year?

I had almost 6 months of the year where I had more "good" days than "bad" days with my health. I do not talk a lot about the chronic pain issues that I have here on the blog, but they do overshadow a lot of how I live my life, unfortunately, not by choice, so the fact that this has been the "best" year health wise in 3 years is just amazing!

4. What was an unexpected obstacle?

1) The EXTRA 3 months that it took to close on our short sale.

2) As mentioned above, the overwhelming emotions in processing what it would mean to be foster parents, to have the first children we would be "raising" for a time not be our "own."

5. Pick three words to describe 2012.

His Relentless Pursuit 

6. Pick three words your spouse would use to describe your 2012

(don’t ask them; guess based on how you think your spouse sees you).

Healthier. Happier. More-like-yourself-again.

7. Pick three words your spouse would use to describe their 2012 (again, without asking).

Chilled. Transforming. Revealing.

8. What were the best books you read this year?

Grace for the Good Girl is on my list again this year as I continued reading into 2012. I did quite a few fictional reviews this year, but my favorite of them all was Breath of Angel by Karen Henley.

9. With whom were your most valuable relationships?

Arno, my life-long friends {college & local}, my parents, my sister,

Blogging friends who are IRL friends, Libby and all my (in) This Season ladies

10. What was your biggest personal change from January to December of this past year?

Finding the desire and passion and drive to dream again

11. In what way(s) did you grow emotionally?

I learned that I wait TOO long before I ask for help because it is so hard for me to ask so I am SLOWLY learning NOT to do this, even with those closest to me

12. In what way(s) did you grow spiritually?

The more I learn about how and who God wired me to be, the closer I feel to Him and His heart. The more I live the life HE created me for, the more I feel alive in my purpose on this earth.

That is the lesson that has come alive for me this year.

13. In what way(s) did you grow physically?

As mentioned above, I have seen significant improvement in my chronic pain issues this year. While I am not back to my "old" self yet, I am SO VERY thankful for the healing the Lord has/continues to do in my body!

14. In what way(s) did you grow in your relationships with others?

As I am more fully embracing who I am, I am embracing that uniqueness in others around me. The past few years, GRACE has been like an anthem to me. I feel that the Lord is constantly teaching me not only to have grace for myself and my own story but for others and their journeys too.

15. What was the most enjoyable part of your work (both professionally and at home)?

The flexibility and the variety of working various types of jobs

16. What was the most challenging part of your work (both professionally and at home)?

Finding the balance with how to manage my time the best, especially with the health limitations

17. What was your single biggest time waster in your life this past year?

Probably TV/Internet

18. What was the best way you used your time this past year?

Taking photography classes with my sister. Connecting with ladies at (in) This Season. Taking time to write more and more strategically. Connecting with others who have like-minded hearts and passions.

19. What was biggest thing you learned this past year?

What I have learned the most goes along with my OneWord for 2012 :: Relentless. The Father has shown me that He is relentlessly pursuing my heart. He is relentless in seeing the dreams He has placed inside of me come true. He is relentless to heal me and to renew what the devil tried to steal. He is relentless so I do not always have to be. He IS on my behalf.

20. Create a phrase or statement that describes 2012 for you.

Weeping may come for a night, but joy comes in the morning.

Check out my 2010 Reflection Q & A.
Check out my 2011 Reflection Q & A.

When Tears Come...

Sometimes the ache is so big you can hardly breathe.
Sometimes the sorrow feels so real you cannot separate it from your skin.
Sometimes the movement in your soul
violates the peace,
the joy,
the radiance
He longs to display
within all those broken pieces.

Like a warrior
you fight
Hard and strong,
Swift and sure,
Noble and steady
in your aim.


And then there are days,
weeks,
months,
seasons where
the emptiness is too great to carry,
and you hide away,
fragile from the touch of the world,
lost in a sea of faces,
even the beautiful ones that hold you so dear.

The anguish burns away your passion,
your dreams,
your destiny.

Nothing to hold close
Nothing to draw near
to your heart,
your hand,
your cheek.

And there you stay
for awhile,
as sorrow burns pupils
begging to be released
from the torrent of angst that rages inside.

Until rebelliously
one tear
finds its way
down the curve
of your downcast cheek
past the carefully constructed walls
your heart has long held high.

When tears come,
words fall.

When tears come,
prayers spill forth.

When tears come,
peace floods the abandoned corners,
filling every crook and crack,
lifting shame and condemnation from the shoulders of the weary,
splicing pride and comparison with the very sword of truth,
breathing life into marrow
and felicity into dry bones
where dreams seem lost
and promises seem all-but-about-to-come-true.

And there the still small Voice speaks
with groans that flout intelligence
with whispers that quiet the dissonance
with Light that defies the darkness...

May it be well with your soul, My child, 
right where you are,
right in this season,
right in this moment.

May it be well with your soul.

"Oh yes, people of Zion, citizens of Jerusalem, your time of tears is over. Cry for help and you’ll find it’s grace and more grace. The moment he hears, he’ll answer. Just as the Master kept you alive during the hard times, he’ll keep your teacher alive and present among you. Your teacher will be right there, local and on the job, urging you on whenever you wander left or right: 'This is the right road. Walk down this road.'” 

~Isaiah 30:19-21 

Also linking up with these beautiful communities....
 Hear it on Sunday, Use it on Monday, Playdates with God,
 The Soli Deo Gloria party, and In, On, and Around Monday 

and with....
Jennifer, Mary Beth, Ann, Duane, and Heather
and the encouraging communities they have created here on the web.

also with Michelle and Emily at Imperfect Prose.

So thankful for places like these to share our words together...

What I Am Into These Days :: Fall 2012 Edition

Listening ... I haven't been listening to any one thing consistently recently. A few months ago, I purchased Deluge's latest album, Swell, and my favorite song there that stirs my heart is He Rose. Mandisa JUST released a Christmas album this year which I place to break out after Thanksgiving. {Review on that coming soon!}

Watching ... I absolutely ADORE The Voice. I will admit that I am quite often teary at a beautiful performance or watching an artist be praised for their efforts. I love to see a dreamer see some of their dreams coming true. Arno and I have been watching Alias together as neither of us saw it during its 6(or 7) season long run. Gotta love Netflix! I have also been catching up with Doctor Who on Netflix which I truly love. And of course, I could not wait until Downton Abbey was released in the U.S. in January, so I all caught up along with my U.K. friends in the current season. Love Mary and Matthew and I can honestly say shot that I STILL get a thrill of excitement every time I hear the musical intro. #MustDownload My interests are teasingly diverse...yes..that's me!

**Photo Credit

Reading ... I really did a lot of fictional catch up over the summer but seemed to have paused in that endeavor as of late. However, I am in the middle of Ted Dekker's {my favorite Christian fiction author}latest release, The Sanctuary. {Review on that coming soon too!}.  I am also really excited to be a part of the launch team for Graffiti by Alene Snodgrass. Stay tuned on my Twitter feed for more details about this amazing book from BOTH sides of the street. So amazing!

Pinning ... I recently bought Pinterpretation by Holly Gerth and Stephanie Bryant at Squee. I haven't written down all of my answers yet, but it was SUPER fun to go through my boards with all of the questions that they have AMAZINGLY come up with to figure out more of how I am wired! {I totally recommend it!}

Eating ... Um. Salted Caramel. EVERYTHING. The end.

Drinking ... See above. {Thank you, Starbucks, for this --> Salted Caramel Hot Chocolate}

**Photo Credit

Wearing ... Bought some fun random items recently :: sleeveless tuxedo dress, three-quarter length sleeved sheer white top with ruffles, a red ruffled skirt with blue flowers, a polka-dotted scarf, a maroon cotton dress, oh..and..two new pair of jeans. {Taking cute & comfy shoe suggestions for boot cut jeans. Criteria :: Must be able to wear "cutely"WITH socks and MUST be flats...no tennis shoes...comment below PLEASE!!}. Fall is my favorite clothing time of year with tights and boots and scarves. #SoFun

Feeling ... Winter weather is a bit tough on my body with recurring chronic pain flareups and insomnia issues. Thank you for your prayers on my behalf that it would be an AMAZING winter and not a painful one. Scared a bit about our foster care journey...some technical issues have put a pause on the progress but more on that at a later date.

Weather ... This week the forecast is sunny and high 50's -- just beautiful! Should make for perfect Thanksgiving weather!

Wanting ... A new telephoto lens for my DSLR. My current one is twelve years old and is slowly "giving up the ghost." Also for my oven to be fixed soon...looking forward to baking some yummy things this season...hopefully!

**Photo Credit

Needing ... to learn balance in my schedule, in my personality, in my goals, in my approach to life {creativity vs practical}

Thinking ... Christmas! Yay! My absolute favorite season and with this great room, I plan to have the BIG tree of my childhood dreams. #WhoSaysYouHaveToGrowUp

Enjoying ... fireplaces in our new-ish home, visits from long-time college pals, photography classes with my sister, time to learn and grow and process, and as always...His never-ending grace.

What about you? What are you currently up to?
Would love to hear your life-song in this season.

The Community I Did Not See Coming

She listens to my heartbreaking rants on the phone about the agony of hard choices in the foster care journey. When do I leap? How deep do I go? Is this feeling fear or the Holy Spirit slipping in that lack of peace to remind me He has a different plan. She reminds me that wisdom and faith might not always wear the same clothes, but work together hand-in-hand. She breathes confidence into my wary soul.

She is my community.

She just had a baby 6 weeks ago. It's her second one and juggling the needs of both an infant and a toddler fight against her normal calm-and-collected sensibilities, yet she grabs precious moments to connect me to her day, invite me into her feelings of chaos and home, and let me know that she misses me.

She is my community.

She blogs. She sews. She mothers 3 kids, 2 of which are twins. She is an entrepreneur. She is filled with never-ending creative ideas. She has energy to be rivaled. She tackles every project with gusto and  vigor, even losing enough weight to fit into her high school prom dress. AND SHE HAS TWINS.  On paper we are so different, but our spirits connect in a language hard to explain. "...I'd love to sit with you in church today..." she writes me late in the wee smas knowing that in the die-hard night owl nature that we share, I'd be awake too.

She is my community.

She shares my personality type. That one champions my love for foster care. Another pulls out and returns back to me words that clears my chaotic soul. They are a safe place for this aspiring artist to breathe.

This is community.

It is not perfect. There is no physical gathering together every day or every week. Most do not know each other by name.

As an extrovert, I miss the parties, the gatherings, the celebrations. But as a wounded soldier, my soul has craved time to heal from the hurts and brokenness that life has wrought. I walk a tightrope of delicate balance between the two, simply hiding from the burning desire to be wanted, to be loved, to be accepted, and most of all, to be understood.

And then, when I take a second to just breathe in His grace, to ponder the healing over the last two years, I see community.

I see it in her laugh.
It jumps off the screen through her generosity.
I feel it in the genuine words wrapping my heart with their warmth.
It bleeds red and precious, like His blood, seeping into the cracks and crannies of this bruised vessel.

I breathe in grace.
I inhale mercy.
I exhale doubts and fears and insecurities and hurts lodged deep.

All because of one.
One with skin on.
One with Savior-love.
One with arms extended, walls down
Being the hands of Jesus to this weary soldier.

In the emptiness, I have found community.
And my cup runneth over.

I Am.....

I Am 

I am whimsy and prose 

I wonder why people don't SEE into each other more 

I hear animals talk
 I see fairies in my forest 

I want babies to call my own 

I am whimsy and prose 

I pretend I am a prima ballerina 

I feel the smell of the Caribbean sun 

I touch the mountains of Hispaniola 

I worry about what the future holds 

I cry for heart breaks and sorrows deeply felt 

I am whimsy and prose 

I understand people are my most valuable possession 

I say Dream Big and Be the Best Version of YOU 

I dream about living an artful life 

I try to give of my whole heart in all that I do 

I hope to show Jesus every day 

I am whimsy and prose

A fun little template filling in the blanks of who I am.....

Want to try it too? It only takes minutes....and the website generates the poem for you that you can post anywhere. I would love to hear your I Am words..... Please come share it with me if you decide to do it...you can even post it in the comments below!

To the childless mothers on Mother's Day {including me}

I think last year was the first year that I realized the "hard" of Mother's Day.

As a child, growing up in Haiti, we actually celebrated Mother's Day twice -- once on the American Mother's Day, celebrating my mom, and then a couple of weeks later on the Haitian Mother's Day celebrating the women of the nation.  On that day we would adorn cloth or felt flowers, pinned onto our carefully chosen dresses. We always wore red, signifying that our mom was alive. It was a bit of a highlight as a child. Any excuse to wear flowers, real or otherwise, found me gleeful!

As I moved on into my college and adult years, I found myself away from my mother on most Mother's Days, and while it was never fun or easy to be away from each other, we adapted and adjusted, sending cards or emails, phoning or Skyping or Facebooking, depending on the technology of that year.

When I moved to Africa, Mother's Day was a special treat then too. The church made a really big deal about it, having the children give out chocolates to all of the ladies. We would also honor our pastor's wife as the mother of the church, and as I was the children's coordinator at our campus, the children and the volunteers would give me treats and cards making me feel so special to be a weekly part of their lives.

And then we took an indefinite sabbatical, and I found myself on Mother's Day last year feeling the full weight of my loss and separation from my own mother, from the children and teens and women I had mentored, and from the status quo of having my own biological children, especially given my over-30 age bracket.

So, last year, I hibernated and found others, throughout the blogging world, who were battling with this day like me.  I read their stories and wept for them and for myself. And then I wrote this post about how sometimes Mother's Day isn't easy, sharing their stories with you.

With that surprise emotional attack last year, this year, I decided to be prepared, contemplating my hibernation, avoiding any conversations, blogs, or stories that might bring the sting of loss to the surface, and planning an possible get-together with friends who also walk the same lonely road.

And then I read my friend Annie's post, On Wombs and Women's Work.

I almost did not read it, truthfully, because I was on a mission to protect my mind and heart and soul from "going there," to that ugly place. If determination could shield me, I was armed to the teeth, ready to hunker down and wait out the impending storm threatening me outside of my shelter. But as she is one of my dearest besties and has my heart, I craved her words, her wisdom, her sentiments... and dove in the post until I came across these words, stopping me in my tracks...

I think about this business of babies and birthing, and how all of it starts in the first place. A mother becomes what she is because of her willingness to let a miracle grow and expand and exist within her.

At best it begins with love and vulnerability, and it grows, day by day, in womb swelling to make room for new life. We are enlarged and able to sustain wild, beautiful life growing because of a miracle conceived in vulnerability. (Even in adoption, this rings true.)

My guard descended, and I cannot help but wonder if maybe she was even thinking of me, reminding me that I am not a forgotten soldier abandoned on the battlefield.

You see, I, too, am a mother.

Maybe not in the obvious ways, with physical stretch marks and a memorable birthing story, yet I wear the lines of expansion on my heart, in the recesses of my soul, where no one but me and Jesus can see. Because after all, He is the one stretching me to love children not my own, to surrender myself to love those who may never wear my last name, to give selflessly to as-of-yet nameless faces who will never have my eyes or my husband's smile, and to have relentless faith that He will fulfill His promises to me of one day delivering my own biological child{ren} into this world.

And the swellling hurts.
A LOT.

I often wonder if it is worth it...
And yet...
...I press on.

That is what a mother does, right?

Vulnerable, scared, petrified of what is coming, yet hopeful that God will some how, some way break through the barriers, giving us the strength to bring forth Hope with skin on into our awaiting arms and hearts.

photo credit

And I know I am not alone.

Maybe you, too, have felt the sting of Mother's Day without a child to hold, a little voice calling you Mama. With an ache that transcends words, a sorrow that seems to cave in on you.

Can I tell you how precious you are, childless mother? Can I remind you that your mother's heart transcends the natural here and now? Can I breathe hope into your bones {and mine} that God is stretching and pulling and shaping you on the inside to hold a promise in your hands that will surprise the world?

May I just love on you until you know deep, deep down in your soul that you are not alone, not forgotten, not abandoned by the Father....and by me? May I offer you grace in the questions, in the thrashing, in the moments where you cannot go on? May I gently give you a piece of His strength in the midst of your storms?

Isaiah 54:1-3

                    “Sing, O childless woman,

you who have never given birth!

Break into loud and joyful song, 

O Jerusalem, 

you who have never been in labor.

For the desolate woman 

now has more children

than the woman 

who lives with her husband,”

says the Lord.

“Enlarge your house; 

build an addition.

Spread out your home, 

and spare no expense!

For you will soon 

be bursting at the seams.

Your descendants will occupy 

other nations

and resettle the ruin."

(click HERE to read the whole chapter...it kinda ROCKS!)

Will you share your story, your hope, your promise from the Lord with me? I would love to stand together with you as we believe in the God who holds our future.

Proverbs 13:12

Hope deferred makes the heart sick, 

But when the desire comes, it is a tree of life.

When You Feel Like You Are Just Not Cut Out For This

The room began to clear. Resource papers had been generated. Congrats-You-Did-It certificates were placed into our hands. A desire to exchange phone numbers rippled through the graduates after these 9 emotional weeks together, preparing to be foster parents. With just half of us remaining from those who launched into this endeavor in January, and even now we find ourselves only at the beginning of our journey, we discover this amazing growth as people, together with open discussion and heartfelt banter. But there is another growth, silent, deeper, within the stretching of our own skin.

And for me, it's been a hard road. A broken road.

On top of waiting months longer than anticipated to walk through the threshold of the house that is STILL not yet ours; daily sorting through the mystery that is chronic pain; and constantly questioning, "Who am I?" and "Why am I here?" now that I no longer function in the role of pastor, the longing mother heart continues to beat strong and the silent, constant, dull ache of my empty arms never truly deserts me.

And then these classes...these blessed classes....bringing to the surface every negative emotion I have ever felt in my entire life, about all of the above and more -- unforgiveness, selfishness, pride, prejudice, remorse, shame, and fear....all with a vengeance, especially fear....dear, sweet, terrifyingly hideous fear....

What if their needs are too much for you to handle?

What if your health...and sleep...issues get in the way of caring for them?

What if you get overwhelmed?

Or can't relate?

Or they want to switch homes?

With the loudest fear screaming in my ears,

"What if you just are not cut out for this?

In fact, half way through the course, I found myself legitimately physically ill, and I knew that while I might be able to push my physical body, I would never be able to take on the emotional burden of those 3 grueling hours of real-life-training, so we took our one-free-miss pass.

True Story.

So knowing now that tonight would be the last night, my heart sighed a HUGE sound of relief. My emotions felt let off the hook for a little while at least. It makes me wonder if this isn't what parents go through every day, spread out across 18 years of life and somehow we are supposed to be "ready" after these 9 short weeks because we might get any age, any issue, any circumstance, and yet our hearts must be ready to love and to discipline and to work through the long haul.

Am I crazy?
Maybe certifiable?
To take on this reckless disruption to our quiet little world?

I listened to the currently active foster parents share their stories tonight, and I felt the thumping of my heart beat louder and louder with delight and hesitation and desire to make a difference as well as to crawl into a hole and hide all at the same time.

So with all of these emotions coursing through my veins, we prepared to leave this final night, saying our eventual goodbyes, and one of our classmates, an elegant woman maybe 20 years older than I, says, "I was talking about you two this week with a friend of mine," pointing at Arno and myself," and I told her, 'This couple that I am in training with would make great parents.'" She went on, "There is just something about both of you, an air, a way about you that I just know you would be amazing parents."

We both say thank you, say our goodbyes, and walk out the courthouse doors. We drive home, with our usual banter, stopping at the drug store for toothbrushes and Kanka, and I look over at Arno and I say, "That was pretty special what she said to us, wasn't it?" And without question as to whom or what topic, he says, "Yeah. It was. That meant a lot."

Sometimes a healing word comes from the most unexpected places, in the most unexpected ways with God's voice behind it reminding us WHO we are IN Him, WHAT we can do THROUGH His power, and THAT we can trust His plans, timing, and ability to take care of even the smallest details.

While I really AM NOT cut out for this, HIM in ME is....and that makes ALL the difference.

I got you, Babe....I can almost hear Him say with that knowing smile and comforting wink.

I got you.

You know everything I'm going to say

before I start the first sentence.

I look behind me and you're there,

then up ahead and you're there, too—

your reassuring presence, coming and going.

This is too much, too wonderful—

I can't take it all in!

Psalm 139:4-6

{The Message}

Would you pray for us as there is a young teen mom that we have been asked to consider adopting with baby in tow? While it's just in the possibility phase at the moment, the details and parameters are terrifying yet so hard to ignore. We want to make the right decision for us and for her and baby. Thank you...

The Chase {Guest Post :: Holley}

It's the end of February and the Relentless Love series is winding down, and I am happy to share the final guest post writer with you -- my friend, Holley Gerth. I have said it before and I will say it again, Holley, besides my mom of course, is one of those people that I would like to be when I grow up. She is a published author, counselor, life coach, Dayspring card writer, co-founder of {in}courage, Squee! business entrepreneur, dream weaver {and builder}, lover of people far and wide and so much more. Oh and by the way...she's MY age!! I have looked up to her since the first words I read of hers on her website months ago. When we met at Relevant, imagine my delight when she carved out time for us to sit together and connect for a few hours. What a treasure! Holley makes her home in Arkansas with her sweetheart, Mark. Her blog home is Heart to Heart with Holley {I mean doesn't THAT name in and of itself just tell you WHO she is and why I think she is so fabulous?!?!?}

The Chase

I’m born into a home that believes.

I start a relationship with Jesus early.
I’m the good girl in high school.

But somewhere along the line,
I confuse relationship with rules.
I weary of the legalism and when college comes, I rebel.
I’m the prodigal daughter who talks at parties about missing God,
who mistakes affection for love, who tries to fill the hole inside her
with anything but the only thing that can.

I imagine God running from me.
But instead, in that impossible way of His, he pursues me.
He sends people into my life that teach me about grace.
He forgives again and again and…again.
He whispers to me in the middle of the night
and tugs on my heart in the middle of the day.

He is relentless.

But I will not relent.

Until my choices break my heart wide open
and all the hurt pours out.
“Now, I’ve done it," I tell myself.

But God isn’t done with me yet.
It seems He takes all that hurt
and washes my feet with my own tears.

How?
How can God love like this?

I keep trying to earn my way back.
I want to show that I will be a good girl for good now.

But God will have none of it.
Instead he simply wants all of me—just as I am.

And, finally, I begin to believe it.
I slow and let that love-that-never-stops-pursuing catch me.

When I do, I’m surprised at what comes with it too.

JOY

What I thought I had to chase out there in the world
turned out to be what was chasing me all along.

I’m so glad God never gave up.

(And that he never will.)

**photo credit**

This month I have asked some of my fellow bloggers to join me here at The Little Missionary Girl All Grown Up to share how they have seen the Relentless Love of the Father in their lives in moments of brokenness, heartache, and valley-of-shadow moments. This post is the 11th and final in the series of that exploration into the passion of the Father for us across miles, across personalities, across hearts that are His. To read more of the posts, click here and here.

Finding Love's Roots through Grief {Guest Post :: Annie}

Oh, yay, it's time for Annie! That's the name of my truly lovely friend that I get to introduce you to today. She and I {also} met at Relevant last October, the very first night. In fact we met in the lobby with a conglomeration of newbies before the conference even began, and somehow over the next 24 hours, gravity seemed to continuously draw us back to each other. By the time we were all leaving on Sunday, less than 48 hours after we first met, discovering her and Cara was seriously like finding missing puzzle pieces that just helped to complete the picture, in the words of Anne of Green Gables, kindred spirits FOR SURE. Being an ENFP like my sister, knowing Annie is like knowing someone that I have known my whole life. She is smart and funny and wise and quirky and artsy and deep and loving all in one package. Annie makes her home with her love, Ted and their two beautiful princesses. When she isn't busy being a wife and mom, you can find Annie's poetic prose at Annie at Home, where she share her heart as a parent, her artistic ventures, and most of all, how all of that spurs her on in her journey with Jesus. You also MUST check out Annie's latest venture where she conceptualized and created the entire art decor for a local cafe. It's amazing!

Finding Love's Roots through Grief

Relentless love can mean a lot of things. There's a deep mercy in a heart rescued, and sweet mercy, too, in the protection from the shackles in the first place.

And I grew up in sunshine and sweet places, and His love pursued me: in wind whipping straight through my soul as we raced bikes down to the farm, in soul friends who knew my heart and loved me anyway, in a million little nothings that reverberated with goodness, whose sweet music drowned out the flat notes and off keys.

And I have felt heartache and wrestled with God over injustice, His existence, and all the blurry lines that a legalist detests. And over and over, He has quieted me with His love.

But it wasn't until my sister died, tragically, that my real unraveling began. It's been two years now, and it's finally sinking in that I will never know the hows and whys of her last moments, only the date her body was discovered, and the finality of her death.

And how do you tell a story that's missing half the ending? How can the beauty and tragedy of such a complicated life be captured in simple lines of letters and sentence structure? Even now, I cannot do it.

But I can speak of the falling apart that happened at the very center of my heart. It was my own voice that taunted me. All those words and lessons and heart-cries about the God who is always about the work of making new, restoring and redeeming: they blew up in my face.

Because death is pretty final, and there was no redemption story here. And that grated against all my understanding, my deepest hope, the very foundation I'd laid my life upon.

And I made it through the cruel words of well-meaning folks and I made it through the eulogy, and I spoke the truth that seemed to mock me: I said it through tears, that her life was complicated, but Jesus' relentless love for her was constant. And I longed to believe.

But I spent every night for I don't know how long, slipping out of bed, so my husband could sleep, only to wake him with my uncontrollable sobbing. And we moved closer to home a few months later, a plan in the works before any of this unfolded, and I, the raging extrovert who couldn't have enough people in my life, I cocooned.

Those months were the darkest in my life. Quiet, full of silent ache. I kept it bottled up inside, until I couldn't keep it up, couldn't stand the tension of a heart desperately clinging to hope in a God who redeems, and mocking itself for doing so at the same time.

I was curled in a ball in the corner of the upstairs bathroom the night I caved. When I admitted I just couldn't work it out, that her death and the ache that now lived inside of me was too much to reconcile, I thought my world would split apart.

But, friends, the opposite happened. Not in that moment, and not by any certain magical formula. But months later, I would sit, weeping again, always the tears, and tell a friend how the very redemption that I had shaken my hand at heaven and demanded, a glimmer of that redemption was unfurling right in the midst of my brokenness. The words shocked me as they rolled off my tongue, and rung true to my core.

In her death, my sister gave me the gift of a faith shaken, and the slow awakening to a God bigger than my ability to comprehend, full of mystery, and there is rest in simply knowing the One who knows the unknowable. Her death, and my inability to handle it, revealed broken places that He yearned to heal, parts of myself I did not know had died, and the opportunity for new life after years of dormancy.

And I do not pretend to understand the ways this all weaves together. I do not believe we can draw simple cause and effect lines to understand the complexity of loss, and I despise the simple answers offered to squelch grief: "Maybe she died so that..." But I do believe that a thousand things can happen in just one thing. And know in my heart of hearts, that God's relentless love, it has wrapped its roots deeper into my soul.

And there is an undercurrent to all this sunshine and heartache, and it is His constant pulsing heartbeat for His glory being revealed and the beautiful redemption is unfolding even now...

... even when our circumstances scream raw in defiance to His goodness

... especially in our brokenness

... beautifully in the mended places.

This month I have asked some of my fellow bloggers to join me here at The Little Missionary Girl All Grown Up to share how they have seen the Relentless Love of the Father in their lives in moments of brokenness, heartache, and valley-of-shadow moments. This post is the 9th in the series of that exploration into the passion of the Father for us across miles, across personalities, across hearts that are His. To read more of the posts, click here and here.

Five Minute Friday: Open

What a fun and amazing journey it has been this year, learning and growing through this 5 minute risk-writing!!

It isn't easy. It never is. To put your heart out there in 5 minutes, knowing that your filter is significantly less and that you may reveal something that you normally hide so well. Or that your words will not measure up to the beauty revealed through the other amazing writers joining their morsels on this journey.

Lisa-Jo said this on Twitter yesterday, "I can only write what I know. Not what you know. That's why what we both write matters."

And I remember this mantra that I would remind myself of during my teen years and college days, "Use the talents you possess, for imagine how silent the woods would be if the only birds that sang were the best."

And so I write....

And since I was a part of the first prompt of the year, I am thrilled to be participating in rounding the year off with these 5 minutes.

Topic :: OPEN

GO.

Wide open spaces.
Open hearts.
Open minds.

The search for significance
transparency
REALness

The desire to be held
to be known
to be understood
to be accepted

This journey of life crashing and flowing like the ever present tide filling our broken places and then revealing them again.
In the cracks, somehow.
In the in-between
In the moments where light and dark, death and life, freedom and walls meet.

Open Hands
bleeding
suffering
inviting
welcoming

my pain
my sin
my weakness
my broken heart

And she is there, whispering truth and promise and hope
yielding life and joy with her breath......
.....grace.

STOP.

If you have always wondered about Five Minute Friday, but never hopped over, won't you do that today? And maybe even join in?? You do not have to even have a blog. You can do 5 minutes in the comments below.

It's fun.

It's freeing.

It's scary.

It's life-changing.

Adventure with me???