Merry Christmas from Carl

It's been a very Merry Christmas for the Oliphint family.  Last year seemed haunted with a tremendous void in the family and the absence of Dad in our lives.   While we enjoy a lull in the Christmas Day festivities, I want to capture Christmas Eve while I can recall the details making it an almost sacred day.  It was filled with reminders of Dad and his obvious presence in our lives.   Throughout the holiday, peace overwhelmed us and his memory brought comfort instead of pain.

We awoke on Christmas Eve morning to the smell of wassail and I was reminded of the annual tradition of stuffing cloves into oranges with my brother.  I don't think I ever tasted the goodness of the beverage containing ingredients unfit for a young girl, but a first glance at three clove-filled-oranges stuffed by my daughter brought me back to my childhood.  Also that morning, I enjoyed listening to the same daughter on the piano as sunlight streamed through the window and a portrait of my Dad was prominently displayed before my eyes.  Just through the window, the ice covered trees sparkled like diamonds as the sun was shining on them.  Locals faced the threat of branches falling on their houses, cars and power lines, but I was simply awestruck by the beauty of this glorious, almost magical, sight.  Within a few hours, my brother and 16 of my Dad's friends arrived for lunch wearing ragged clothes and scruffy facial hair having spent the morning at bus stations and homeless shelters passing out envelopes filled with cash and labeled, "Merry Christmas from Carl".  They continued a tradition started by my Dad and honored him with their presence in Mom's home and stories from a frigid morning spent with those suffering in our midst.   Once again, as I spent time with some of Dad's friends, even a man who visited the hospital on the day of my birth, I felt Dad's presence among us.

Christmas Eve ended with a chili dinner and worship at the midnight service.  We attended the church where my brother's family are members and where my Dad attended youth group as a teenager.  I was struck by the history of the church, including generations of family membership.  It was the perfect ending to a day full of joy and peace with all of our loved ones gathered to celebrate the Incarnation of our Lord.  As we closed the service with traditional hymns, I was caught off guard by a repeating lyric in "Joy to the World".  Grateful tears streamed down my face as we sang, "and heaven and earth rejoice" over and over.  This was yet another powerful connection with Dad; he's rejoicing with us in the presence of our Lord and Savior.   While singing Silent Night, we filed into the foyer to hear the Hallelujah Chorus.  I pictured Dad singing along and beaming with pride as his granddaughter and grandsons were in such a spectacular choir.  Yet, I also imagined him knowing the full reality of this magnificent work.

While the title of the blog is weird, to say the least, it really has felt like a very merry Christmas from Carl.  One can only hope to leave this world and be remembered by loved ones in such profoundly tangible ways.  The overwhelming feeling last year was of a gaping hole, but this year I felt his presence in our midst and this was a tremendous blessing.   I hope your family's holiday was full of joy and peace and the richest blessings from Christ our Lord.

Resting or Restless

In North Texas, we are on day three of an ice event keeping families at home.  The roads are thick ice and the skies are completely white with no sign of melting in the immediate future.  The wind chill makes it feel like 23 degrees, so only the tough among us are enjoying the outdoors while sledding, slipping and sliding on every imaginable surface, including the grass.  For some of us, time is spent watching movies, baking, playing games and reading (etc.), but for others of us (including my family members in Dallas), it means freezing and complete boredom while on day 3 of no power.  To put it simply, we are STUCK at home due to God's providence of paralyzing weather. 

For me, this is a picture of so much of our lives.  Every day we face the protective care of God and circumstances out of our control.  It seems we have only two choices while dealing with a difficult providence.  We can rest in Him or we can be restless.  As I start to feel cabin fever, restlessness increases, but at the same time I'm also grateful for (and mindful of) a time of forced refreshment where there is nothing I can do to change the weather forecast.  This posture, or shall I say tension,  relates to multiple daily challenges where I battle a tendency to be anxious rather than trusting in the tender hand and almighty power of God.   So often, His is work in my life is through circumstances out of my control where I wrestle and then learn to abide in Him more fully.

"The Lord in my shepherd; I shall not want.  He makes me lie down in green pastures.  He leads me beside still waters.  He restores my soul.  He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name's sake."
Psalm 23

"Come to me, all who are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest.  Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart and you will find rest for your souls.  For my yoke is easy and my burden is light."  
Matthew 11: 28-30

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

It's that time again!!!  The bells are ringing outside of shopping malls and grocery stores.  The 2013 Holiday TV Guide is sitting on the coffee table.  We are planning our first viewing of our favorite Christmas movie- Elf.  Online shopping lists are growing and orders are being placed.  The neighborhood is beginning to shine with Christmas lights, a particular treat with the sun setting before 6:00 p.m.   The Christmas cards are here and ready for addresses of loved ones near and far.  Christmas music fills our ears and tugs at our hearts as we reflect on another year full of challenges and blessings.

Every year, as I begin to address the cards, I'm reminded of God's rich blessing in the people He brings into our lives.  Surprisingly, we've sent a Christmas card every year for the past 19 years without missing a season.  Last year, I wasn't in a particularly merry mood and decided to skip a year.  Kyle insisted on sending a card, even offering to order and address them himself, so our record remains unbroken.   I truly love sending and receiving cards and have a long standing tradition of filling our refrigerator with the photos of dear families who have shaped and blessed our lives.  However, as I stare at the beautiful, smiling faces in these pictures, I'm also aware that there is struggle, sadness and sacrifice taking place in the homes of these dear friends.  Marriage and parenting stretches many of us daily.  Grief, insecurity and loneliness are familiar experiences to others of us and the holiday season can be a painful reminder of great loss in our lives.  In the recent days, I have smiled through tears while watching my Dad twirl and dance with Caroline on a recent Thanksgiving video.  We've enjoyed seeing Kyle's Mom in many of these holiday videos with her continually sweet, loving and gentle presence.  As I get ready to send our 19th picture perfect family photo with "It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year" prominently displayed across the bottom, I'm struck with the comical, even sad, truth that this is not true for many who send and receive cards just after the Thanksgiving holiday.

Also after Thanksgiving, we will begin singing Christmas hymns during worship and we will continue reading the Gospels containing the story of the incarnation.  We will be reminded of the hope, joy, and peace that comes only from our Lord.  We will also be reminded, in this season filled with cultural tradition and festivity, that God's abundant mercy, His great faithfulness and His steadfast love remains our only hope in life and in death.  With just a few days before our first holiday celebration, King David's song of thanksgiving especially encourages my soul during this most wonderful time of the year.

"Oh give thanks to the LORD; call upon his name; make known his deeds among the peoples!  Sing to him; sing praises to him; tell of all his wondrous works!  Glory in his name; let the hearts of those who seek the LORD rejoice!  Seek the LORD and his strength; seek his presence continually!.......
Sing to the LORD, all the earth!  Tell of his salvation from day to day.  Decalre his glory amonth the nations, his marvelous works among all the peoples!  For great is the LORD, and greatly to be praised, and he is to be held in awe above all gods.  For all the gods of the peoples are idols, but the LORD made the heavens.  Splendor and majesty are before him; strength and joy are in his place.  Ascribe to the LORD, O clans of the peoples, ascribe to the LORD glory and strength!  Ascribe to the LORD the glory due his name; bring an offering before him!  Worship the LORD in the splendor of holiness; tremble before him, all the earth; yes, the world is established; it shall never be moved.  Let the heavens be glad and let the earth rejoice, and let them say among the nations, "The LORD reigns!"  Let the sea roar, and all that fills it; let the field exult, and everything in it!  Then shall the trees of the forest sing for joy before the LORD, for he comes to judge the earth.  O give thanks to the LORD, for he is good; for his steadfast love endures forever!"  from 1 Chronicles 16

A Pilgrim's Anticipation

We've entered a season of anticipation for the Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays.  I love every bit of Thanksgiving, including the smells and tastes of the food, the focus on gratitude and some time to rest and enjoy the finer things in life..... family, food, and sadly, much football.  Go Commodores!  However, upon return from the break, we will have a unit on the Grinch to kick off the winter holiday season.  This is fitting as my attitude and anticipation of Christmas resembles the Grinch, considering the commercialization involved in celebrating the incarnation of our Lord.  Even Santa makes me grumpy as he represents all that is greedy and indulgent in our culture.  But I digress.....

This week in kindergarten we covered the pilgrims' voyage to the new world, including their desire for religious freedom,  the conditions of the ship (with just over 100 passengers for 66 days) and the storms and struggles during the journey.  We simulated the dimensions of the Mayflower in the hallway and collected all 120 kindergarteners and 6 teachers to discuss living in close quarters for longer than our current days in school.  We brought traveling "trunks" to class with just a handful of important items to help on the journey to America.  In a five year old friendly way, we made it real and personal without making it too dark for them.  They learned that half of the passengers died during that first harsh winter and that the trip across the ocean was very difficult.  We wrote about what we would think or say if we were on the boat.  Some of the responses included: "It is cold."..... "I feel sick.".... and "I do not like this ship. It is stinky and scary." 

While the school days have included considering the pilgrims' anticipation of a new world and their endurance on the challenging journey, my early mornings have been spent reading through family lines in 1 Chronicles and our evenings have included hours and hours of family home videos recently converted from VHS.  The footage shows all of my grandparents, my mother-in-law, father-in-law and my Dad.  All of them have all left this world and entered eternity with our Lord.  The Bible readings of genealogies have been a tough slog, but our own family genealogy has been a passion of mine in previous decades.  I created history books for each of our girls.  With over a century of stories and individuals included in them, only my Mom is still living.  The video clips of my heritage, including lots of Thanksgiving and Christmas memories, have reminded me that we are all pilgrims in this world.  Granted, I'm a very spoiled and blessed pilgrim with no understanding the physical hardship of those traveling on the Mayflower, but I struggle each day with sin and spiritual attacks on my faith and I live in anticipation of a new world and my citizenship in heaven.

As I've read (and felt bogged down) in Kings and Chronicles, I've also been encouraged while reading through Hebrews.

"Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.  For by it the people of old received their commendation.  By faith we understand that the universe was created by the word of God, so that what is seen was not made out of things that are visible."..........

"These all died in faith, not having received the things promised, but having seen them and greeted them from afar, and having acknowledged that they were strangers and exiles on the earth.  For people who speak thus make it clear that they are seeking a homeland.  If they had been thinking of that land from which they had gone out, they would have had opportunity to return.  But as it is, they desire a better country, that is a heavenly one.  Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared for them a city."   excerpts from Hebrews 11

For over a year, Kyle has been preaching through Revelation on Sunday mornings.  We've covered dark and intense assaults on the people of God as pilgrims in this land.  Teaching children's church has been a challenge to say the least.  Tomorrow morning, we have the blessing of hearing a sermon from Revelation 22 where we will consider the end of the story and this new city of God. As a fellow pilgrim, I anticipate the new heaven and the new earth and joining loved ones who have gone before me in worship around the throne of God.

"The angel showed me the river of the water of life, bright as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb through the middle of the street of the city....... No longer will there be anything accursed, but the throne of God and of the Lamb will be in it, and his servants will worship him.  They will see his face and his name will be on their foreheads.  And night will be no more.  They will need no light of lamp or sun, for the Lord God will be their light, and they will reign forever and ever." 

The Dance

After a typically full day in the classroom, while driving home from school, one of my all time favorite songs played on the radio.  Garth Brooks song, "The Dance", kicked me out of a tired post-work daze and took me back to my wedding day almost 19 years ago.  Ouch!!! Dad and I danced to this song during our wedding reception.  For nearly a year, music has been the most painful trigger, but the recent months have not included the daily flood of sad memories while driving to and from school.  This unexpected, and now rare, moment got me to thinking about life and how it is somewhat like  a "dance".

During this season of raising teenagers and teaching kindergarten, my dance moves are definitely ungraceful and anything but lovely.  Weekly, even daily, I feel out of shape and uncoordinated, as if stepping on everyones' toes.  I go to bed with regret and a long list of "should haves" and I wake each morning with humble and dependent prayers to the Lord.  After dancing through the baby-toddler- stay-at home-Mom years with ballroom technique precision (still not graceful), I'm confronted with the teen-working-mom-years and becoming acquainted with my clumsy and frequently stumbling posture. 

Thankfully, by God's gracious provision and His faithfulness,  I'm learning to dance more gracefully during this season of parenting and teaching.  My childhood years included hours and hours of training in ballet classes and the girls and I have enjoyed season tickets to Texas Ballet Theater over the last decade, so I'm aware that the delicate and seemingly effortless choreography of the ballet comes with most rigorous (and even painful) training.

As the piano beautifully closes Garth Brook's song (my favorite part), the lyrics include, "I could have missed the pain, but I'd have to miss the dance."  This rings true for me and reminds me of the glorious gifts from God surrounding me each day.  It is ironic how the role of mother and teacher includes helping others to learn and grow, yet most days I'm the one growing, learning and being shaped the most. By His tender hand and by the power of His Spirit, may He produce the fruit of the spirit in my life so that I may "dance" in the midst of life and among others with ever growing grace and mercy. 
  

Forty-three and Feeling It

This week began with a lot of fuss surrounding my 43rd birthday.  Mom visited to start the celebration with shopping and several delicious meals, both delightful luxuries for me.  Students and families showered me with gifts, cards, flowers, food and other delightful treats and encouraged me by their abundant loving kindness.  Having kicked off the birthday week on a high, it ended on a bummer low (literally), flat on my back.  For the first time, ever, I fell out of bed (yes, I did). The result felt a bit like I was in a car accident.

Typically, Thursday evening feels like the night before the last college final with all the intensity of the week and the anticipation of Friday and a restful weekend ahead.  With two working parents and three active daughters, sometimes our family gatherings happen at the most unusual times and places.  This event occurred in the dark in our bedroom with Mom, Dad and girls gathered on the bed.  I was sitting on the bed and decided to lay down on my side.  Little did I know how close I was to the edge as I fell 2+ feet to the floor and landed with "old lady moans and groans".  The family exploded with laughter as I assessed the damage.  A fall at age 43 lands between the flexible/bouncy body of a 5 year old and the life threatened body of an 80 year old.   With many prior bulging discs, including some flattening of the spinal cord, this was no small event! 

In addition to bodily injury, just this week, I've had multiple reminders of the joy of aging while entering the mid-forties.  I can't seem to get the hang of my bi-focals, so I tend to only wear them while driving.  Teacher friends have assisted me during faculty meetings with important details on the white board and corrected me as I wrongly identified the names of children across the hall from me.  During a recent Sunday worship service, the order of worship led me to design the perfect music for my memorial service.  You know you're getting old when the combination of hymns reminds you of your mortality and the glorious reality of entering eternity with the Lord.  On a lighter note, while birthday shopping in the Apple store, the sales person compared me to his grandmother as he encouraged my teen daughters to be patient with me as I learn the features of my new phone.  Sometimes I wonder if the combination of raising teenagers and teaching kindergarten will keep me young or if it will speed up the process of increasingly gray hair.  It certainly keeps me humble and in constant prayer for wisdom and strength!

Obviously, this update covers much silly news from the events of the week.  On a serious note, the forties also bring increased gratitude for long standing friendships and the many forms of communication which enable birthday greetings from all over the country.  For over 4 decades, God has used incredible friends and family to shape and form my life and to increase my love for him, his glory and his people.  Along with all of the physical reminders, I'm increasingly aware of my need for dependance upon the Lord for spiritual strength and wisdom.

"For this reason I bow my knees before the Father, from who every family in heaven and on earth is named, that according to the riches of his glory he many grant you to be strengthened with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith-- that you being rooted and grounded in love, may have strength to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God."  Ephesians 3:14-19

Providence and Perseverance

Exactly 20 years ago, I graduated from Vanderbilt with a bachelors degree in elementary education.  Peabody College is known for its quality education program and produces teachers who are well trained, eager and who have big visions for their classrooms.  This describes me as I started my first day in an inner city classroom located in Jacksonville, Florida surrounded by some of the roughest projects in the area.  One of my coworkers was held at gun point IN the classroom on a work day, just down the hall from me.

On the first day of school, I awoke a nervous and excited mess with ideal images of a classroom filled with beautiful 7 and 8 year old children.  Shockingly, early on the first day, one of my students took money off of my desk and proceeded to give me the finger while standing on his desk.   I still think of this boy (who became precious to me) and often wonder what life is like for him at 27 years of age.  However, I remember my second morning before school (at the breakfast table with a glass of orange juice and an unfinished bowl of cereal) just like it was yesterday.  The orange juice did not stay down due to nerves and the cereal was discarded before taking the 25 minute drive across the river to the other side of town.  I kept thinking THIS is not what I signed up for.... THIS is not why I went into education.... and I just can't do THIS!  I grumbled and complained at God's providence as if he had made a mistake, as if he didn't know what was best for me and as if he wasn't sufficient to help me persevere in a role he called me to and lovingly provided for me.

Recently, I've had moments of grumbling against God's provision for me similar to that second morning of my first job.  I've had some of the exact same thoughts..... THIS is not what I want!  I've thought back on that surprisingly wonderful year in the inner city of Jacksonville and remembered the Lord's gracious provision for each day.   Years later, there were "fish stories" from that principal about this "little girl" who managed a challenging classroom in the early 90's.  Coworkers shared these annoying stories with me (as they rolled their eyes) long after I moved to Philadelphia and started teaching in a private Christian school.

As some of you know, nearly all of my blog posts (and this one will be no different) make some mention of my father and his influence in my life.  With his birthday approaching, this seems particularly fitting.  While living on my own in Jacksonville,  paying bills for the first time without any familiar relationships (& still not acquainted with Kyle),  Dad was one of the people who encouraged me to endure, to dig deep and to finish what I started-- difficulty and all.  Of course, he was great with the idea of welcoming me back to Oklahoma after that year- considering I didn't know a soul in Jacksonville, let alone the state of Florida.  His life was characterized by determination and perseverance.  As his daughter, I was challenged to no less than this fine example.  Now, I find myself, once again, discontent with God's providence in my life.  The strength of my earthly father combined with the overwhelming grace, presence and almighty strength of my heavenly father encourages me to press on once again and to give thanks in all circumstances! 

"My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness."  2 Corinthians 12:9

One Year in Paradise

One year ago, August 25, 2012, my father left his earthly body and entered the glories of heaven with our Lord.  After eleven days of enormous shock, pain, sadness and tragic bodily injury, with circumstances and surroundings too dark to write about, I remember a great sense of anticipation in the moments leading up to his last breath.  There was a surreal realization of what was awaiting him and the certain hope he had at the end of life on Earth.  I'm not speaking for the family, just me, but I felt a great peace and celebratory joy in the immediate moments after his passing.  Dad knew only mercy, comfort and goodness in the arms of his Heavenly Father.  This "high" was a blessing as I began the difficult journey of grieving him.  Many of you have followed this process in previous blog posts.  As we complete "the last first", the anniversary of his death, I have that same sense of peace and joy just like the moments after he left this world.  The anniversary of his accident, much like the initial experience, came with bitter thoughts and emotions, but the anniversary of his passing reminds me of the glorious reality that Dad has spent a year praising Almighty God with the angels.  THIS is a great comfort to his daughter as I miss him even more today than when we lost him.  So, now I lift my eyes to the heavens and join Dad with thanksgiving and praise to God!


"An when this flesh and heart shall fail, and mortal life shall cease; I shall possess within the veil a life of joy and peace.  When we've been there ten thousand years, bright shining as the sun, we've no less days to sing God's praise than when we've first begun."
vs 4 & 5 of Amazing Grace (one of Dad's favorite hymns)

Meet the (oh, so grateful) Teacher

I woke up this morning with a feeling similar to childhood Christmas morning.  It's Thursday of "teacher work week".  So, why the excitement as the day begins?  This evening we have Meet the Teacher, a very common event throughout the country during the month of August, but it is one of those "duties" where everything I love about my job is on full display! (Last year, I missed this while I spent time with Dad in Grand Junction's ICU as reports from doctors became painfully grim.)  With much joy, this evening I have the opportunity to meet precious children who I will teach as they begin their school journey.  Tonight begins a relationship with the families where the goal is to work together to help their children grow in so many ways.    I am very grateful for this brief window (of one year) to invest in the lives of such incredible children.  The year goes by so quickly, yet, it gives us a rare blessing to encourage, instruct, nurture and rejoice with precious new friends.  As I meet these new friends of mine, with their shy and nervous smiles, I consider myself honored and privileged to be their teacher this year! 

Back to School-- Eager Anticipation and Overwhelming Dread

It's that time again.  Teachers and families are in back-to-school mode all over the country.  School supplies and clothing fill our shopping carts, paperwork deadlines (now online) fill our time and thoughts of eager anticipation fill our minds as we get ready for another school year.  The Oliphint girls are excited about entering 10th, 8th and 6th grade.  Of course, I am delighted about welcoming another precious group of children who are starting kindergarten.  It's an eventful and thrilling time of year.  Everything is bright, new, crisp and clean as we pack our school bags and as I organize my classroom.  I couldn't be more enthusiastic while jumping back into familiar tasks and routines.  However, there is another overwhelming feeling that nags at the same time.  This week marks the anniversary of my Dad's horse riding accident, followed by the anniversary of his death (and returning to work at that time).

You would think after completing a year of "firsts" that we would be ready for this, but in many ways, I feel stuck, not knowing how to grieve.  There is not a manual or "grief for dummies" that prepares you for the unexpected emotions and experiences.  I've been surprised by the process every step of the way.  One thing that keeps hitting me is that there is just no fancy way to describe the loss of your closest loved ones.  It's just plain sad.  It catches you off guard with frequent, unwanted tears, a heavy burning in the chest and with a continual lump in your throat. 

In so many ways, it seems our family should celebrate having survived and completed this year with so much purpose, hope and renewed faith.  It brings honor to Dad that all of  his grandkids have grieved deeply while also applying themselves to various endeavors with passion, intense focus and accomplishment.  Mom honors him each day as she grieves with strength and grace and a focus on enjoying life and serving others.  Still, as we approach the next few weeks of anniversaries I don't feel like celebrating.  It just feels painful, a feeling that has become all too familiar to our family over the last 12 months.  We did not grieve him over a period of years with a gradual decline in his health.  He was snatched from us at his peak-- physically, professionally and socially.  While visiting with Mom recently, I mentioned that I thought I would be further along in the process after a year (not expecting the same from her).  Surprisingly, some of the hardest moments have been in the recent weeks and months. 

This time of anniversaries marks one of the hardest, yet most wonderful years of life.  On the home front, we grieved the loss of Dad while we entered "unfamiliar teen territory".  This combination drove me to my knees in dependent & humble prayer.  In the classroom, I savored the joyful days with a most exceptional group of students.   Now, I have such mixed emotions as we anticipate another school year together.  My first desire is to honor my Heavenly Father at home, work and play, but I also want to honor Dad and his memory as we mark a year without him in our lives.   His legacy lives on in our family.  He modeled a life of joyful service, hard work, passion and love for others.  I have daily reminders of Dad's strong influence in our lives and I continually thank the Lord this blessing to our family.


"Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful.  And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds."  Hebrews 10:23-24

Sweet Summertime-- Shades of Blue and Green

The dog days of summer bring extra time for writing, yet less interest in gathering my thoughts.  It's as if my mind is turning to mush as I enjoy an abundance of time with my girls with little to no schedule ruling our lives.  Oddly, the theme of our quiet and lazy days, besides PJ's and sweet frozen beverages, includes shades of blue and green.  One of my favorite things upon return from vacation is the GREAT BIG TEXAS sky meeting the horizon with unobstructed rolling landscape as far as you can see.  The mountains and hills of Colorado are majestic, but there is an awesome beauty to the wide open spaces with brilliant blues and rich greens overwhelming the eyes.

Just today, I went for a typical walk, wearing my new prescription sunglasses.  This sharp image of glorious blue and green hit me in the face.   My thoughts immediately lifted to the Lord and his tender and merciful care for me.  While summer reading includes more thoughtful study of the scriptures, Romans 1 further illustrates how the creation points me to the Lord.   "For what can be known about God is plain to them, because God has shown it to them.  For his invisible attributes, namely, his eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly perceived, ever since the creation of the world, in the things that have been made. So they are without excuse. " Romans 1:19-20

In addition to summer Bible study, where the radiance of God's glory and goodness is revealed and my need for Him is increasingly obvious, home improvement projects are also in full swing.  We are consumed with nearly a hundred shades of blue to select just the right color for Caroline's room.  Several friends serve as advisers and mediators in this long-awaited decision.  It gives me great pleasure to check off overdue tasks from my list.  However, the unusual abundance of July rain keeps our shrubs and beds in constant need of upkeep and I'm finding it nearly impossible to get a landscape company to call me back.  I want to subdue the lush greenery surrounding us!   Once again, the scriptures encourage my soul even as I find myself irritated by these beautiful shades of green.   

"And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life?  If then you are not able to do as small a thing as that, why are you anxious about the rest?  Consider the lilies, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.  But if God so clothes the grass, which is alive in the field today, and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, how much more will he clothe you, O you of little faith!  Do not seek what you are to eat and what you are to drink, nor be worried.  For all the nations of the world seek after these things, and your Father knows that you need them.  Instead, seek his kingdom and these things will be added to you." Luke 12:25-31

Summertime is sweet in so many ways.   I'm very thankful for the Lord's provision of much rest, thoughtful study and some time to complete meaningful tasks.  Perhaps the greatest blessing during the long summer days is how the LORD restores my soul as he grows in me a desire to walk in the Spirit.  Psalm 23 captures this well. 

"The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures.  He leads me beside still waters.  He restores my soul.  He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name's sake."  Psalm 23: 1-3

Wildflowers, Mountain Vistas and Gracious Comfort

As I stare out over the 6th hole of Crested Butte's golf club with the stunning Butte just behind the green, I'm thankful for the Lord's gracious provision of mountain beauty surrounding us while experiencing deep sadness for the first time in months.  The combination of paradise and pain is even more distinct than I imagined.  No doubt, we are abundantly blessed to witness such spectacular sights while on vacation!  The valley of CB is glorious as the wildflowers are at their peak and the snowcapped mountains are majestic and inspiring.

Obviously, we are overwhelmed with reminders of Dad.  However, I'm struck with the randomness of triggers causing the tears to flow; it's not Dad's chair, his closet or climbing the Butte without him for the 2nd time in my life.  Ordering a scoop of ice cream, finding his 4th of July stash and seeing a photo of him atop a raised firetruck ladder from the last 4th of July reminds me of his unusually fun loving and adventurous spirit.   There is a definite lack of energy  surrounding us as we hike, picnic, play games and enjoy lots of time as a family.  As I dug through his box of hats and beads, missing him so very much,  I longed for one more surprising moment with Dad with his zest for life on full display.

While reading Psalm 121 on the porch this morning, I remembered how this passage filled my thoughts during our time in ICU.  I wasn't reading my Bible during those stressful days, but these words of scripture comforted my soul as I considered the possibility of losing Dad.  Today, I lift my eyes, once again, to the "hills" and thank the Lord for his gracious comfort and steadfast love while overwhelmed with memories in a mountain paradise.

Psalm 121
"I lift up my eyes to the hills.  From where does my help come?  My help comes from the LORD, who made heaven and earth.  He will not let your foot be moved; he who keeps you will not slumber.  Behold, he who keeps Israel will neither slumber nor sleep.  The LORD is your keeper; the LORD is your shade on your right hand.  The sun shall not strike you by day, nor the moon by night.  The LORD will keep you from all evil; he will keep your life.  The LORD will keep your going out and your coming in from this time forth and forevermore."

Irony and Blessing

Do you ever have the feeling that life is a strange trip and you're just along for the ride?  That is exactly how I felt this week while driving around in my Dad's Lexus and enjoying all the bells and whistles.  I felt like a fish out of water.  There is something very ironic about a school teacher/pastor's wife in a luxury automobile.  The timing of this purchase is not lost on me as it is also the week of the Teach ONE mission trip in Zambia, which I was a part of last year.  My thoughts and  prayers are with the teachers working in the compounds of Lusaka (wishing I was with them!) as they minister to children without even the most basic luxuries-- beds, electricity, food and water.   There is additional irony as Kyle and I just decided we would like for our whole family to serve in some capacity in Zambia over the next few years.  I even had this fleeting idea: I could sell this car to pay for most of that expense.   While this might sound like a genius idea, I don't plan to give up Dad's car any time soon.  With a 3rd driver on the horizon, I will continue to enjoy God's surprising blessing and provision for our family. 

Even this morning, another strange tension follows us as we leave for vacation in Crested Butte, the location of my Dad's accident last summer.  There is something odd about the combination of vacation and returning to the place where we tragically lost my father.   While Mom, John and I have returned to the CB home on different occasions, Kyle and the girls said their last goodbye to Dad in the Colorado driveway at the end of their last visit.   The blessing of time in "paradise" will be mixed with painful memories and feelings as everything will remind us of him.

Whether, humorously driving my Dad's fancy car or sadly remembering him in the place he loved most on earth, I'm determined to enjoy the luxury of vacation and a fine automobile as gifts from God for our good and his glory.  Faith in Christ is the most unfathomable blessing of all.  "God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God." 2 Corinthians 5:21

One Year: A Changed Look and Perspective

To mark the anniversary of blogging, I've updated the photo and background of this site.  Oddly, it is a symbolic change for me as it represents turning the corner of a "new year" with renewed hope and a fresh perspective.  As I met with a Christian counselor yesterday (an overdue visit) to discuss the joys, struggles and experiences of the past year, she gave me pause with a very basic question.  She asked, "How do you feed your soul?"  I was tempted to give the "correct"-Sunday school- pastor's wife- school teacher answer, but I waited and considered before answering.  Then, it hit me!  I will use the change in blog photos to give a picture of my thoughts.

Both photos show Zambian children on the the road in Lusaka surrounded by hopeless poverty.  The impoverished road represents the brokenness of the world where we all live.  The previous picture was dark, profoundly serious and inactive with children thoughtfully observing the camera and their surroundings.  The new photo shows eager and joyful children in active pursuit of our vehicle on my first drive through the compounds of Lusaka.  While the circumstances and environment are the same, the posture and perspective of the individuals is completely different.

For the last 12 months and 42 blog posts, I have had a most serious and observant posture as I have been on the receiving end of Christ's sustaining grace and as He has stretched me in new ways.  (Similar to how my grandfather would let me stand on his feet while leading me in a dance.)  The first photo shows this perspective in my thoughts and writing.  However, the counselor's question leads me to consider this:  What am I doing to "feed my soul" as I travel the difficult road of life?  This requires an active pursuit of Christ and knowing Him more intimately in the midst of joy and suffering.  It's time to "dance" along beside him as if stepping off of my grandfather's toes to participate more fully.  As we closed out our discussion, the counselor wrapped up with some questions relating to my roles in life and this particular season as wife, mother, minister's wife and teacher, obviously showing how Christ knows my weakness in every way and has experienced all of it in the flesh, yet without sin.  As I consider another year of writing, my hope and prayer (and active pursuit) will be to seek Christ in all things.  It is encouraging to have you follow this journey with me.

"For in Christ all the fullness of the Deity lives in bodily form, and you have been given fullness in Christ, who is the head over every power and authority." ....... "Since, then, you have been raised with Christ, set your hearts on things above, where Christ is seated at the right hand of God.  Set your mind on things above, not on earthly things.  For you died, and your life is now hidden with Christ in God.  When Christ, who is your life, appears, then you also will appear with him in glory."
Colossians 2:9 and 3:1-4

The Selfie

Sometimes I feel a blog coming similar to a growing appetite for some kind of food.  Much of the time God is stretching me or lifting my eyes to Him as my only refuge and fortress in the storms of life.  Well, this post is different; it stems from a recent pet peeve.  When I mentioned the subject to Kyle, he said, "Be careful."  I will attempt to be "fair and balanced" like our favorite news show-- Special Report With Bret Baier. 

Raising (beautiful) teenagers in an internet saturated world overwhelms and stresses me.   While I'm active enough on Facebook and a stalker on Twitter, the social media choices are too much for this one track minded Mama.  Instagram, Vine and Snap Chat are other popular tools for our girls.  Thankfully, Kyle is all in with social media and keeps a close eye on their activity.   It seems negligent for parents to be "anti-social media" while their children are actively using such things.   But I digress....

In an effort to keep tabs on Instagram use, I have a weekly stalking time where I borrow one of the girls i-pods and scroll the feed for each of them.  This often results in much drama throughout our house.  Frankly, our girls hate this ritual and I do too!  The most debated topic in these weekly sessions includes "THE SELFIE" and "Selfie Sunday" really gets me going!  For those of you without teenagers, a "Selfie" is a photo taken of oneself and then posted on the internet for the world to see.  It is an all too common practice with our youth today.  My take on the Selfie is less than charitable:  Look at me world.  Look how beautiful I am.  If you like my picture, I will be encouraged.  If hundreds of you like my picture, I will even feel more valuable or worthwhile.  If you don't like my Selfie, then I will likely remove it with some sense of discouragement.  I'm being crass to make a point.  My girls have heard this lecture dozens of times, but the Selfies are alive and well in the Oliphint home and they are not forbidden.  Many of you smile knowingly as you are fellow Instagram users with my girls.

Having grown up without a computer or the internet, teenagers in my day were limited to the car visor and rear view mirror to inspect themselves.  We were left wondering what others thought without the constant "feedback" about our images.  I'm not saying we were any less self-consumed or immature, but we didn't have the internet to fuel our insecurity.  Sometimes it all seems too much for parents to get their minds around, especially considering how quickly things change and how clueless many of us feel in the social media world.  I'm convinced we need to keep up and be active, because it's here to stay in one form or another.

As a mother, hoping to raise strong, God fearing, modest and humble girls, how do I navigate and regulate internet use with wisdom and grace?  I have no idea.  The teenage years require mercy and patience beyond me.  However, daily I return to the Lord with my foolishness and pray for more grace and wisdom.  My greatest desire is for the girls to love and honor the Lord, but I'm all too aware they must see this in their mother first of all.  Ugh.... that's the rub.  It's easier for me to regulate and control than for me to constantly point them to the gospel where Christ continually pursues me in the midst of my insecurity and weakness.  May Christ's abundant mercy and steadfast love continue to transform our hearts.  "Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised." 

Since You've Been Gone

This school year must go on record as the fastest ever.  The days flew by at a dizzying pace and with a roller coaster ride of emotions.  In some ways it was the hardest year of my life and in other ways it was the most satisfying to date.  The students began their school experience without a teacher and in the hands of our most loving and gracious school counselor.  I showed up on day three overwhelmed by sadness and in shock from the recent and sudden loss of my Dad.   The comfort and sustaining grace of God gave me the strength to handle those first days with much joy and eagerness.  My father's example of endurance, faithfulness and passion gave me a model for how to live when everything in life suddenly turned upside down for our family.  My precious students will never know how their sweet and joyful spirits gave me purpose and hope each day as I silently and deeply grieved the death of a person who was so much a part of me, as if part of myself was gone.

Now that we're coming to the end of the year, I find myself wanting to tell Dad about it all.  Thoughts like "since you've been gone" fill my mind. ........ Caroline got her braces off.  Jack started driving.  It was a great year for the Oscars. (Les Mis and Lincoln were out of this world... I wonder what you would have thought about Life of Pi.  Kyle and Mary really loved it!)  Mom attended an Oscar party and kept the family tradition alive.  She also attended a Young family wedding without you-- I know you would be very pleased by this effort. Her travel schedule rivaled many of the years you spent together.  Heidi and Caroline are teenagers now (UGH!!)  Even Kelly has entered a phase with much drama and hormones raging; Kyle and I are in over our heads with 3 "teen" girls and increasing interest from (or should I say for) boys.  We finished an outdoor living area which you would love.  Our church moved into a new worship space.  Mom hosted many from the Tulsa ballet-- keeping your flare for hospitality active at home.  Many in our country have suffered from unthinkable tragedy in two of the states where your family lives--- due to gun violence and tornado devastation.  Obama won another term--- some of us miss your political emails and commentary. There are not a lot of conservatives left in the Young family.  Your absence is still overwhelming and powerfully felt by those who loved you so very much! Music is a particularly painful trigger; Neil Diamond, ABBA and Elton John slay me regularly as I remember your love of music and dancing. 

As we close out a most memorable and eventful school year, we're enjoying an ABC countdown to summer.  Activities such as Art Day... Bubble Day, ... Outdoor Writing Day, ... Relay Race Day have helped build the anticipation of summer and the celebration a most wonderful year together.  With just 8 days left, while teachers and students all over Texas are longing for the relaxation of summer, I find myself dreading the end and the sad goodbyes to my sweet students.  In the Lord's providence, our classroom has been a glorious combination of profound loss, much growth, exciting firsts and abundant joy.  The students are now reading and writing with ease and ready to be big 1st graders, but I hate to see them go.  I can only hope for the blessing of another class like this one.  I will forever remember the 2012-2013 school year with great affection and as one connected to my father and his lasting influence in my life. 

Fences

My walk this morning was a surreal experience.  It's a beautiful, spring day (somewhat rare this year) with a perfect chill in the air.   As always, I walked while listening to music on the ipod.  Alan Jackson's "Remember When" filled my ears while my eyes took in a variety of touching scenes.  A young boy (maybe 9 or 10) walked past me in tears.  A little girl played outside in a Superman/Princess combination, topped off with a crown.  A young Mom held her baby's arms straight up while the PJ dressed little girl practiced taking steps.  Many Dads were mowing and edging and the fresh cut smell of grass filled the air.  One homeowner was carrying sections of rotten fence to the curb for bulk pick up this week.  I got to thinking of all the families, struggles and joys packed into the suburbs where people live behind 6 foot fences in large homes on small lots.  Upon arriving home, I wrote a $400+ check to a nice man who just replaced many rotted posts for our backyard fence.  Was it painful to write such a hefty check for wood poles?  Yes!  Was it worth every penny to maintain the privacy we enjoy and crave?  Absolutely, yes!  Within our fence, we workout marriage and parenting issues with a good measure of conflict.  Who wants the neighbors staring in while we disagree, even fight, with a spouse or teenager?  Plus, we are glad to keep the doberman out of our backyard, previously a rottweiler in the same yard.  What is it with big, scary dogs in Texas?!

This satisfying and reflecting walk comes after a week that felt like a train wreck in many ways.  You could describe me as an angry Tasmania Devil stirring up trouble in my path, nearly everywhere I went.  My words, actions and even thoughts hurt those closest to me, including my spouse and children.  While my husband was away on a "guys trip" with minister friends, I repeatedly asked him if he was sharing my garbage with his friends, not wanting him to lower the fence of privacy that I  maintained throughout the chaos of the week.   Even in the recent weeks, Kyle and I began meeting with one of the elders in our church to work through boundary issues for our teenagers.  We desire to maintain unity in parenting as we disagree on appropriate "fence lines" of protection for our girls. 

Obviously, as I write this, I'm giving others a peek over our wall of privacy, with Kyle's blessing.  I've been reminded this week of my need for a Savior and I have renewed gratitude for Christ's mercy to me as a miserable sinner, without hope except for his sovereign grace.  In his death on the cross, the curtain of the temple (or dividing line) was torn in two giving access to God himself through his perfect sacrifice for unrighteous people like me.

"For Christ died for sins once and for all, the righteous for the unrighteous, to bring you to God." 1Peter 3:18

Fading Memory and Heavenly Focus

Lately, I've been looking back and trying to remember seasons throughout life.  I find myself grasping for a clear picture of important places and people.  My childhood home in Tulsa, where I lived for around 15 years,  seems like a fading memory.  Oddly, the garage is one of the most vivid pictures in my mind.  It recently hit me that it was a four bedroom home and I can hardly picture the 4th bedroom.  I keep thinking about that house and trying to form images in my head.   Sadly, it is just a blurred recollection. 

Another season that comes to mind with little clarity would be the college years.  Yesterday, we received a 20 year reunion letter with a focus on fundraising from the class of 1993.  As a classroom teacher for 7 years (combined), I have yet to make the amount of money Mom and Dad forked over so that I could enjoy the luxury of a degree from Vanderbilt University.  While I spent formative years in Nashville, I can remember so little of the specifics from my time there.  

Even during this high speed season of parenting, with a house of teenage girls and all the drama that comes from middle school and high school relationships, (I guess some things are better forgotten.) I can barely remember details from raising the girls in the early and slower paced years.  Thank goodness for a joke worthy (endless) number of photos to remind me of God's blessing and goodness to us with three daughters.  He continually showers our parenting with grace during each passing year.  

As we look forward to many exciting seasons of life, including driving, college, weddings and hopefully grandchildren, my gaze will be lifted just beyond these obvious blessings as I long for my heavenly home where there will be no fading memory, pain or sadness and where we will rest peacefully and gloriously in the Lord's presence.

For now, I feel like I'm in the middle of the story of life.  (Some call it mid-life.)  I wonder if many others have similar experiences in their forties.   Combined with four decades of living, 2012 brought a mid-life shift in focus as I witnessed profound hopelessness, suffering and even death.  Abundant and blessed memories from the past are dimming, yet my gaze for eternity with the Lord is coming into focus with precise and intense vision.   Oddly, I have some memories that are crystal clear in my mind.  Many, if not all, of the memories relate to deep spiritual moments with the Lord during transforming and difficult times.   I'm becoming convinced, in the midst of all these seemingly important, yet obviously forgettable, seasons of life, God is writing a story of redemption, faithfulness, grace, mercy and steadfast love in my life.  Future chapters are a mystery to me but the end of the story is one of great joy, profound hope and everlasting peace.

"For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, no any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord."  Romans 8:38-39

Teacher and Preacher

Recently, it hit me that Kyle and I have job titles that rhyme with each other (teacher & preacher).  This is likely on my radar as kindergarten students use rhyming words quite regularly.  I like to point out to  the children that "rhyming makes us better readers and writers".  They seem to believe this and find purpose in an otherwise meaningless skill.  Letter combinations are not the only similarities in our jobs.   Both are highly meaningful and satisfying callings.  Obviously, a pastor has a very distinct call, but I doubt any teacher can sustain the intensity and requirements of the profession without some sense of being called to the work.  I can only speak for myself, but daily I feel like I'm made for the classroom.  I don't feel this way in many other roles in life-- especially as a minister's wife.  ; ) 

People are another common factor in our vocations, especially the investment in particular individuals and families.  Whether in the pews, Sunday school classes, cafeteria or classrooms, people have needs, gifts, challenges, opinions, personalities, expectations and a multitude of unique characteristics.  Frankly, as a pastor's family, with one of us serving in the classroom, life can feel like a fishbowl at times.  Whether I run into a student at Target who looks at me like an alien from another planet (all the while beaming from ear to ear) or I have church members who watch me flounder with much prayer while raising teenagers, I rarely feel the leisure of anonymity.  I don't think Kyle would mind me sharing the obvious change in a social setting when someone finds out that he is a pastor.  He would love to interact without this relational dynamic many times. 

We both long for closure, to check off a to-do list and to be finished with "a task", something similar to April 15th for the tax folks in our midst.  I guess I have the advantage with the summer months where there is  time for renewal and refreshment.  If it weren't for a high sense of calling and an understanding that the grass is NOT greener on any side of the road, I would long for a life as a mail carrier and trash collector.   I certainly have a much greater desire to pray for MY pastor/preacher as he labors without a sense of ever clearing his plate or completing any of his work.  Do you remember to pray for your pastor?  I guarantee he lives a life with demands, most especially at home. 

Why the ramblings on life as a teacher and preacher?  Well, honestly, we both get weary.  We are both critiqued (good and bad) quite often.  You never get used to a job that is always before the public where performance reviews and expectations are constant and usually outside of your hearing. 

Thirteen years ago, a much younger minister's wife moved to Tampa, Florida.  A new and now dear friend asked me, "Is it hard being a minister's wife?"  I made light of this seemingly throw away question and answered, "No, it really isn't."  Today, I wish I could answer that probing and thoughtful question again.  I would tell him that I am unbelievably out of my comfort zone.  Still, I am overwhelmingly encouraged by the sustaining grace and faithfulness of God.  I am humbled by the abiding faith, prayers and sacrificial service of the people He brings into our midst.   With much eagerness and dependance upon the Lord, we are abundantly grateful for our callings.

Perspective is Everything

If you're anything like me, too often, you can't see past the end of your nose.  Thoughts about my schedule, my stress, my opinions and my circumstances can tend rule the emotions of the day.  Sometimes I'm hit in the face with examples of how others are struggling and how ridiculously self-consumed I can be.  Just this evening, I pulled into the driveway with a rather gloomy attitude at the same time as my neighbor.  She is grieving the recent loss of her teenage son.   Other times, I seek out reminders to shake me out of a "blue funk".   Yesterday, I came home from school and looked through hundreds of photos from my time in Africa.  All of my students in Zambia go without electricity, running water (clean water for that matter), food and parental care each day, yet they are the most peaceful and hardworking people I will ever know.  I'm becoming convinced that perspective makes all the difference.  Many of us have very little of it. 

If you're in a season of raising babies or toddlers with little time to yourself for pampering or social interaction, you've likely heard from older moms how fleeting the time seems while looking back.  If you're adamantly pro-choice and fiercely protective of the woman's right to choose, you should talk to a loved one twenty years after having an abortion and walk through the dibelitating grief with her.  If you think conservative Christians are hateful bigots or you think liberal gay and lesbians are offensive and perverted, then you've likely never had a close loved one or relative fall into one of these two categories. I remember being in Zambia during a highly political season and being disgusted by some of the "issues" on endless media loop as I witnessed profound suffering for the first time in my life.  My perspective was altered drastically and I'm coming to realize I will never be the same again.

As a woman who has moved into her 40's with all the "hormonal fun" that goes along with being a female-- including daughters just beginning the journey (sorry, guys-- just the facts!), I'm increasingly grateful for the perspective I have as one who is IN Christ.  I'm convinced that he alone can overcome my pride and self-centeredness.   I continue longing for heaven and the return of Christ with growing expectation.  Until then, may he deepen my faith and sharpen my perspective as one who is humbly dependent upon divine grace and mercy.

"Come to me, all who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest."  Matthew 11:28

Comfortable and Confused

Be careful what you wish for.  For the later half of 2012, I longed for some "normal" weeks on the home front as a Mom, wife, friend and church member.  Being out of the country and then constantly on the go with trips to CO, OK and even the hospital in TX, I missed out on a lot of stuff with the girls and our local community.  Working outside the home added to this as well.  Now, 2013 is well under way and I'm fully engaged in the normal routine of life, working shorter hours, but clarity of thought and dependence upon the Lord is lacking.  With comfort comes confusion.  Lessons learned in Africa seem to be distant, almost unreal, memories. Just this week, two "American moments" gave me pause and left me wondering about the lack of fruit in my life from what I've seen on the other side of the globe.

For the past week, I've obsessed (to say the least) over vacation properties in the panhandle of Florida.  We finally settled on a lovely spot for our first week at the beach as a family.  Sure, we lived in Florida for a number of years and used to have date nights by the waters edge and even overnights in a number of condos, motels, etc.  I spent many days playing in the sand with the girls while Kyle was working in Tampa, but with just 3 summers until our first high school graduation, we've never spent extended time together in one of my favorite places.  As I've considered the comfort, peace and pleasure of this most desirable location, I've also learned that the mission trip for our church is scheduled for the same week as our (already paid for) reservation.  Surprisingly, our oldest has communicated a strong desire to miss the family trip and to return to Mexico where she had a life changing experience.  My gut response.... "You're living at home for just 3 more years; you have to go on this trip with us."  How can it be that I would deny her the opportunity to serve for our pleasure and delight?!

Even last night, our family walked into the Apple store with two shattered i-Pod screens on relatively new devices.  As the tech described the $15,000 tables to us and the stones on the floor made from a certain mountain or something, he typed a description of the girls' devices into his iPad.  "Viciously shattered" and "horrid" were the adjectives used.  Come to find out, one of our girls didn't want Mom and Dad to replace (at our cost) her iPod for a new one.  She wanted to keep the shattered one.  I nearly insisted on making the exchange (again at our cost), because it didn't seem reasonable to keep using a destroyed "horrid" one.  Then, once again, it hit me.  I felt like I was in "bizzarro world" completely devoid of any understanding of sacrifice and suffering. 

Lingering in my thoughts is a strong desire to return to the compounds of Lusaka, Zambia.  As Kyle and I anticipate our 20th anniversary next year, I wonder about celebrating with some combination of mission/travel together.  Who knows?  However, I will pray that the Lord will grant me some of the clarity I experienced in more challenging circumstances and that his spirit will grow in me a passion for sacrifice and service in this corner of the world.  I have a long way to go! 

The Soundtrack of Our Lives

During our Friday "date night", including a grocery run and a stop by the church office, Kyle noticed a change in my selection of music on Satellite radio.  He made a comment about coming around to his way of thinking.  As I rolled my eyes, I described how lately I've been drawn to music from my childhood.  Kyle said something that rings very true right now, "Music is a hyperlink to memories."

On Saturday morning, I grabbed my hot pink iPod and went for a walk.  As I was listening to Taylor Swift's "Fifteen",  one of the lyrics really struck me. "Wish you could go back and tell yourself what you know now."   With a house full of teen/preteen girls (including their friends) and with one daughter who is particularly similar to a younger version of myself, it seems I have the perfect opportunity to help my girls learn from my struggles, sparing them the difficult lessons and mistakes of life.  I got to thinking about the pattern of my life  and how I seem to learn everything the hard way.  As a teen, I swallowed the foolishness of this world entirely, including popularity, status and love of self.  In the twenties, a hot temper and self centered attitude made for colorful years as newlyweds.  In the 30's, while raising babies and toddlers, I found myself conflicted by a mundane life at home and the seeming absence of mind stimulation.  Even at the outset of my 40's, I'm learning the balance of work and home life and erring on the side of working too much.  I wish there was a "Life for Dummies" for the spiritually immature like me.   As a pastor's wife, I know that the scriptures contain everything we need for life and godliness.  However, with a lack of spiritual maturity, I didn't see the Bible as food for my soul.  For many years, I read the ten commandments, and thought to myself, "I've got this."  Now, even a quick reading of the law convicts me of pride and self-centeredness and reminds me that I do not love the Lord or his people as I should.

Like any mother, I long to control and protect my girls from difficulty and learning things the hard way.  In my unbelief, I think that my girls shouldn't have to go through the same struggles and suffering where God shapes and fashions them.  However, by God's grace, Sunday morning worship brings refreshment to my soul and redirects my heart to God's work in our lives.  The music before the sermon brought me to tears.  "Speak, O Lord" is a regular selection in the service.  However, this week the words seemed to jump off the page.  "Teach us, Lord, full obedience, holy reverence, true humility; test our thoughts and our attitudes in the radiance of Your purity.  Cause our faith to rise; cause our eyes to see Your majestic love and authority."  

During the sermon, Kyle kept referring to the soundtrack of our lives being connected to a story, either in this present age or in the age to come.  The soundtrack of the age to come includes a powerful refrain, "Salvation belongs to our God, who sits on the throne and to the Lamb." While the text of the sermon was Revelation 7, he directed us to 2 Corinthians 4 as well.  It is a beautiful picture of God's saving grace in my life and it reminds me to humbly and confidently pray for my girls.  May the words of "Speak, O Lord" become the soundtrack of their lives.   The Lord will surely prove himself faithful to them as he has always been to me. 

"But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us.  We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair, persecuted but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies.  For we who live are always being given over to death for Jesus sake, so that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our mortal flesh.  ........ So we do not lose heart.  Though our outer nature is wasting away, our inner nature is being renewed day by day.  For this slight and momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal."

Friday Night Delight

After slugging it out in the classroom this week (that is teaching while feeling awful), I arrived home on Friday to a surprising treat.   Our evening included pizza by the TV.  So, what makes this unusually delightful?  It was rare because it included just Kyle, our 13 year old and me for a night together.  Kelly was off at a birthday sleepover and Katie was babysitting. 

Typically, I'm greeted six days a week with bullet fire questions.  "Can I have ____ over to hang out?.... Will you take ___, ____, and me to the basketball/volleyball game?   I want to study with ___ at Starbucks."  (Yeah, right!)  As we enjoyed our dinner, I kept waiting for the social engagement to surface.  It never came.  She suggested a romantic movie and we settled into a simple and most pleasant night together.  I was quietly soaking in her company and contented presence.  

Only 5 years ago, pizza nights were the norm with all three girls gathered on the couch.  I used to think, "We need to spice up our weekends."  Now, we've entered a phase where you need a spreadsheet to keep the whereabouts and activities of the girls straight and quality time with just one daughter is a complete treasure!   Having been a parent for 15 fleeting years and realizing we will be "empty nesters" in just 7 short years, I'm going to savor every unexpected occasion like this one. 

Chief Nag to Head Cheerleader

When the girls were babies, toddlers and in elementary school, I would kiss their sleeping heads each night and pray for them.  It was a very short prayer: "Lord, please help them to love you more than anything in this world."  Now, my teenage/preteen daughters stay up much later than me, so this ritual has shifted to the morning hours while they are still sleeping and I'm leaving for work.  Parenting struggles have changed in some ways, but my prayer hasn't changed a bit!  So much remains the same, yet my confidence in parenting has diminished with the need for a new style of influence.  Safety is a common thread throughout the years and sharing continues to be a front burner issue, but authoritarian and controlling leadership is no longer effective. 

If I could sum up my role in the home, it would be "Chief Nag".   When I walk in the door from school, the first comments often include, "Have you done piano, homework, folded laundry?  Who left the bowls, cups, chip bags on the coffee table?  That is too much make-up!  That skirt is too short or tight, etc., etc., etc....."  In just three years, our first daughter will be ready for college.  I don't want to nag her to death during the fleeting time we have her in the home.

My desire as a parent would be for them to know that I'm am their biggest fan and cheerleader!  With driving and dating on the horizon, I can only imagine the challenges ahead.  I pray that the Lord will grow in me a winsome spirit of grace and mercy that helps navigate these years with loving and patient influence.  Believe it or not, I can distinctly remember being their age and being attracted to and influenced by people who believed in me and encouraged me to live in a way that honors the Lord, those who inspired me to love the Lord more than anything else in this world! 

A Tapestry of Grief

Well, thoughts of retiring the blog were premature.  Grief has followed me into 2013, so I will continue to write.  When you lose a loved one, you hear a lot about the "Stages of Grief".  My gut response at my Dad's memorial service was that people can use a stage (anger perhaps?) to keep from healing and finding acceptance.  Remembering that I'm Carl's daughter, reminds me that moving forward is always the goal.  Wallowing is frowned upon in our family!   My experience has been more of a "tapestry of grief", not necessarily stages where you progress from one to the other.  I find myself in denial, depressed, angry and bargaining all in the same day.  Clearly, I haven't come to accept the reality just yet.  I have to remind myself daily that he is really gone.  It doesn't seem real that we will never see him or talk to him again this side of heaven, especially considering the sudden and tragic way we lost him.  I find myself constantly thinking of questions I would like to ask him and things I wish I could tell him.  "If only thoughts" are the norm right now.  At first, denial and shock was my only experience.  At my Dad's memorial service, I comforted others with a stoic, almost heartless, attitude.  I told one of his lifelong friends (who was in tears) to "snap out of it" before the service.  At the hospital, after we lost him, I watched others dissolve into tears and thought, "What is wrong with these people?"  Really, it was an unbelievable experience of being removed from the whole thing while in my happy place of denial.  Now, I still find myself looking at pictures and thinking he's not really gone, but that is combined with an element of anger that our girls will not have the blessing of a grandfather's strong influence in their adult years.  At the same time, I'm dabbling with melancholy that resembles depression at times.  During the holidays, I hit rock bottom while obsessing over photos of him throughout my life and also the pictures he took on that last trail ride.  Come to find out, from campers who witnessed the accident, the horse threw him off as he was taking a photo.  I spend a lot of time looking at that picture.  His last view on earth was breathtaking!  He died enjoying the beauty he loved to capture on his camera.  New Year's Day was particularly sad for me.  Our family made a big pot of chili, but I just wanted to stay in my pj's all day.  I could almost hear Dad telling me to get my act together.  He was all about celebration and hospitality.  So, we invited friends over and and had a very enjoyable time celebrating the New Year, sparing myself the uncomfortable thought of disappointing Dad.  After four decades being motivated by a desire to make him proud, his influence continues in his absence.  Recently, I found his last email to me.  It contained four words which will stick with me for the rest of my life.  He simply said, "You are on fire."  Those words sum up HIS life and his role throughout my life.  It is surreal to me that my Earthly father and my Heavenly father are both in heaven.  I've always desired to honor my Heavenly Father, though I can not see Him.  Now I find myself driven by love and faith to honor both of them in the way I grieve and live.