Loving God and Loving Others

Sweetheart, you want to hear about a miracle? My husband across the ocean tenderly asks our daughter over skype. Yes, please, Daddy. Please, I need one. It's an honest polite cry. It's almost desperate.  We have all been there once or twice in our journey. Needing a miracle that is. Needing to know that the God who fed the thousands, will still feed me today. To know that the God who healed the woman with the bleeding disease will still heal today. We know He can. It's just if He will? My husband's oral chemo drug that he's on is hurting his kidneys. The Thai oncologist wants him off his medication to give his kidneys a break. I'm not thrilled about that. But the kidney specialist here says his kidneys may never recover. What are you supposed to do? When you're making a decision between bad and worse. When you're tempted to say to God, why are we talking about this in the first place? I hate the c word. Cancer. But the fear of it returning agai...

I didn't expect the text this morning. .... 911 is coming, I almost passed out because of pain.. .. The text was from my husband. He's in LA to be with his mom who is suffering from aggressive cancer. He flew home from Asia to be with her, his father, and his siblings and their children. It was supposed to be a bittersweet visit. Lots of tears over the sickness but sweet memories of her life. A life well lived. But now 911? John? It was reminiscent, too familiar. May 2013 when I received that call also at 6am. ... John's collapsed on the hotel floor. they've carried him to a taxi and rushed him to the nearest hospital...    And both times, I wasn't there. The first time it was cancer. Now what is it this time? It's almost too much. The kind of pain that takes your breath away. The almost-too-excruciating- that- my- heart-can't-bear-it kind. Thoughts racing. Running wild actually. The what-ifs that emerge after compounded trauma are fear-full. They...

My heart is grieving today. As I helped my daughter write a paper this morning my phone alarm alerted me to news of a tragedy in Connecticut. While we were eating breakfast in California, a gunman walked into a small town school and shot 20 children and 7 others, including his own mom. Parents who said good bye to their children this morning were anticipating a family weekend ahead not news that their child is no more.  I'm struggling making sense of this.  I look across the table to my own precious kids studiously working on their homework assignments and the sight of them takes my breath away. What if I was that parent? The mama who had carefully bought Christmas presents early tucking them under the tree hoping her curious kindergartener wouldn't be too curious. Her heart is breaking tonight and I have my four of my own in my arms tonight.  I don't like pain and I don't think I'm alone when I say that I don't like suffering. In fact even though I shouldn...

We braved the wind and rain today. Exchanging dry clothes for the wet bedraggled look, we ventured out for a walk on the beach. We were layered up and ready for the cold, but we weren't ready for the rain. In 10 minutes, our down coats were soaked through and I was soon wet to the bone. It's been a long time since I've had that feeling. Our family loves to watch shows where others brave the wild, and we act like we enjoy that, too. It's a fun joke we have because at the end of the day, we really just like the comfort of our home, our heat, and warm clothes. This morning I'm reading about the hope of salvation. "Blessed be the Lord, who daily bears us up; God is our salvation." Psalm 68:19 There is no other one who can offer us salvation like the Lord. This salvation is my hope today. Salvation from my sin, not only once and for all sin, but my daily sin. I grieve Him when I don't choose to trust Him. Anxious thoughts, fear, anger, frustration at ot...

The Webster dictionary defines the word "hope"- as the desire for attainment, trust. This week of Advent focuses on Hope. I am struggling to hope. The struggle of my heart against discouragement is a daily thing. One moment I'm hopefully and happy, the next moment I am fighting for it again. Happiness and hopefulness are tied together in my heart, but I'm not sure they should be.  It's raining this morning. It's the third storm of the week to hit our region and the clouds have been nothing but thick and heavy. It feels a bit that way in my soul.  I am aware that at every moment I am challenged with the choice to hope, and trust in the Lord, or to trust in my own strength. A few days ago I encountered a situation that brought me from the highest peak to a very low valley. Hope seemed shrouded by stormy clouds and I couldn't see beyond that. I cried out to the Lord, asking Him for deliverance. He answered. What's my response when hard things hi...

The lady looks over her shoulder as she pours the fresh yak milk into a large pot. Can I keep him? She grins. He has no idea what she is asking. My son, that is. Eight years old and taking it all in. The new, the different, even the strange. He squats down near his friend and drinks the yogurt that she has just served him. We’re in Mongolia. Very far from home, we are in one of the most landlocked areas of the world. This gher, a white domed portable tent, is home to a precious family and some of their animals. The rest of the animals live in a pen next to them. There is no sign of other families around them for as far as I can see. Over the hill I have been told are a few more families. It’s amazing. We live in a complex with over 6,000 people. 45 buildings and lots of people. This country of 3 million could fit into a small part of our city, our city that numbers close to 11 million. Bumping along dirt roads with only a compass, we made our way via a four-wheel drive from the cap...