Monthly Archives: August 2016

Sometimes I Cry in My Bed

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Sometimes I Cry in My Bed

Phoebe Eyes (2)

We sat talking in the early moments of the day. She snuggled up with me, still in her princess jammies, her long hair falling softly around her face. She said she heard her younger brother crying in the night, as their rooms share a wall.

I told her that Grandpa and I visited often when she was a baby, and we slept in the room now occupied by him. We always heard her cry for the infamous 2 a.m. feeding. She smiled and snuggled a little closer.

She looked up at me with her clear blue eyes, surrounded by a pool of pure white, framed by long strawberry blonde lashes. “I cry sometimes in my bed, Grandma”. I wanted to cuddle her closer, to ask her why she cried, but I waited.

“Everyone makes mistakes.” she said.

Her eyes were fixed on my face, waiting for a response. “Do you mean that you go to your bed and cry when you have made a mistake?” I asked. Without a word, and with a somber expression, her eyes fell and she nodded.

“Yes, baby. We all make mistakes”, I assured her. I asked her if she knew the very best mistakes she’s ever made and she looked at me quizzically. “The best mistakes are the ones that we learn from, baby. Never waste a mistake.” I told her.

 

Best Mistakes

There was honest humility in her statement. Everyone makes mistakes.

And she is right. Paul put it in simple terms. “All of us have sinned and fallen short of God’s glory.” (Romans 3:23 CEV)

Jesus said it best. “I’m telling you, once and for all, that unless your return to square one and start over like children, you’re not even going to get a look at the kingdom, let alone get in. Whoever becomes simple and elemental again, like this child, will rank high in God’s kingdom.” (Matthew 18:3-4 MSG)

Holy moments. I do not perceive that my statement was some sort of anointed word of wisdom into the life of my granddaughter. To the contrary, the reality that we all make mistakes and are completely dependent upon his grace was never more clear to me than when SHE spoke.

Humility like a child; looking into the face of our Father with wide eyes, telling him what he already knows. “Sometimes I cry in my bed, because I made a mistake.”

Confession is good for the confessor. Sincere confession and repentance is always accompanied by humility.

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Jesus looked at his disciples, all men who understood clearly that there were distinctions of position in their culture and he made one thing perfectly clear. At the foot of the cross we are all like little children, stripped of status, of title and persona. We are broken, we are humble and he meets us there…

Because everyone makes mistakes.

I need his grace,

lorraine

 

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When Success Gives Birth to Fear

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When Success Gives Birth to Fear

 

I’ve had the best week of my writing journey. I experienced the joy of seeing the stats jump higher than they ever have and it was all for this. As a writer, I pray that God gives me something to say. The truth is that words are not unique…they’ve all been spoken by someone. It is their arrangement and the truth that they convey that will touch the hearts of readers.

So, when the words that I strung together by his grace alone were read by over 1700 people, I was overwhelmed. At first it’s quiet optimism that this “writing thing” is not just a fluke. I see shares by people I’ve never, ever heard of and I think, this is how this works!

And then, my daughter shared my post. “My mom’s blog hit home with me today!” she said. My family and friends are the ones I want never to disappoint or embarrass, especially my girls; this is the one that meant the most.

For a few days, I just enjoyed feeling successful. Lord knows that I’ve had my share of rejections. I publicly moaned about the second reject from one syndicate and was immediately embarrassed that they responded on Facebook, encouraging me to keep trying. Deep down I know that I may not be a good fit for them. I’m learning a lot through rejection.

And then it was time to start considering a post for this week. I started and discarded so many pages. I wanted Jami Amerine’s sarcastic wit, Ann Voskamp’s meandering stories and Melanie Dale’s in your face truth. I was falling way short of it and nothing that I wrote was any good.

And I realized that I was afraid because of recent success. What if I’m a “one hit wonder”? What if I never write anything so well-received again? What if I embarrass my girls with my inept attempts at this?

So I took a ride, alone in my car. Silence: lots of quiet, and I listened. He already knew that my heart was troubled; no words required from me; I just needed to be still.

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And he said to me, “Go back to your call, Lorraine. Go back to the beginning.”

I’ve written the promise in my journal and I’ve read the words over and over so that they are becoming part of my heart, but I heard him speak them fresh:

The Sovereign Lord (that’s me, you know) has given me (that’s my part, Lorraine) a well-instructed tongue (they are my words, not yours), to know the word that sustains the weary (you’re tired aren’t you love; the words are first for you and then for the weary ones who will read them after you). He awakens me morning by morning (Just focus on today, sweet Lorraine), wakens my ear to listen (wait for me – I have something for you to say) like one being instructed (I’m teaching you how to do this, rely on me).
Isaiah 50:4

The same God who called Jami, Ann and Melanie called me along with a long string of amazing writers that I’m blessed to know. The stats can be encouraging but at the end of it all, I am writing for an audience of one.

Please God, don’t let me get so caught up in the numbers and the syndication that I forget that.

Needing his grace more every day,

lorraine

If God has called you to write, check out this online free writers guide:

http://sacredgroundstickyfloors.com/ladder-to-roof-top/

It’s been my joy to contribute there, but more important, I’ve learned so much from these talented, generous women!

If you missed last weeks post about feeling invisible, here you go!

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Am I Invisible?

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A special note of thanks to my friend and cheerleader, Kelly Balarie.
Today’s post is featured on PurposefulFaith.com along with the work of thirteen
other bloggers – please visit her page to view all of the beautiful words
http://purposefulfaith.com/encouraging-words-2/

Sitting around a table with a group of friends, you realize everyone is engaged in conversation…except you.

You sent a text and that friend didn’t respond. Again.

Your husband changed the channel on the television without asking. The same thing happened in the car just last weekend with the radio station.

The group of working moms is discussing marketing strategies; the only marketing on your agenda is preparing a grocery list and your strategy is to go there without a toddler in tow. You suddenly feel that their lives hold more significance.

That Facebook messenger group is so much fun; that is, until you post a funny meme or share your current frustration and not one person responds.

Your teenager thinks everyone else’s advice is golden but refuses to heed your wise counsel.

At family gatherings, all of the hype is centered on your older sister; she’s the “accomplished” one. It feels like no one has any interest in your progress.

Your husband or child has a chronic illness. You embrace your role with great love, but your needs always seem overshadowed by theirs.

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Your toddler declares “I have poop” to no one in particular and you swoop in to change her – she barely notices as she intently watches Mickey Mouse Clubhouse.

People seem to look right through you; it’s as if you are invisible.

This struggle is real and I suppose I’m not the only woman on the planet who wonders if anyone really sees or hears, much less appreciates me. I’ve been walking  through a crisis of sorts. Writing opens lots of opportunity for insecurity especially for a melancholy phlegmatic striving to optimistically overcome perfectionism. I doubt most everything I do and the slightest of slights has recently put me in a spin. I could barely stand myself; other people were intolerable.

What if no one sees what I do? Worse, what if no one sees me?

Recently I read that many of the craftsman and artisans who built the great European cathedrals didn’t live to see them completed. They never knew the satisfaction of seeing it all come together. The craftsmen were more than skilled laborers performing a job in exchange for a livelihood. They viewed their work as service, even worship, to God. Many of them intentionally hid some of their best work within walls, fully intending it for HIM alone.

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They weren’t afraid their work wouldn’t be seen; they knew the one who truly matters did see it.

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He sees. The Gospels remind me that he knows if a sparrow falls. The psalmist declares:
 “You’ve kept track of my every toss and turn through sleepless nights,
each tear entered in your ledger, each ache written in your book.” (Psalm 56:8, The Message)

The challenge is clear. How can I move from feeling invisible to doing everything with the intention of being invisible?

What if I view everyday tasks and interactions from a new perspective?  What if I choose to “hide” my best, most beautiful acts of service for His eyes alone?

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Like those medieval craftsmen, we see some incremental results but we will never view (at least not this side of heaven) the completion of our labor. How satisfying to approach each day with a heart to serve Him by serving our families, friends and even coworkers.

Each quiet intentional act is the equivalent of carving a beautiful bird into a stone, then covering it with a wall, knowing that he sees, and being satisfied.

“…your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you.”  – Matthew 6:18b

You are not invisible, dear sister. He sees and knows; read his words to us so you remember.  You are a treasure!

“Let the king be enthralled by your beauty; honor him, for he is your Lord.” – Psalm 45:11

By his grace alone,

lorraine

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It’s Not Fair – A Book Review and Giveaway

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It’s Not Fair – A Book Review and Giveaway

For the past couple of summers, I’ve been getting together with a group of young moms for book club. We agree on a book by a contemporary Christian author and spend most Wednesday nights discussing sections of the book around a table outside our favorite local coffee shop.

2016 Book CLub

A few of the beauties from Summer Book Club 2016

 

This past spring when Women Are Scary was suggested, I was not familiar with Melanie Dale but I was intrigued by the title (because, well…they can be) and the premise of the book. In it, Melanie compares “momlationships” to dating, complete with analogies of rounding the bases. I fell in love with her writing style.

Melanie’s sarcasm is totally relatable for me; I grew up surrounded by it and it might be one of my love languages. And yet, she has a kindness about her that draws you in close and makes you want to spend time with her words. (And her, but there’s only so much of her to go around, so we can be thankful she wrote this stuff down!)

When I learned she had written another book, I managed to worm my way right into the inner circle of awesomeness that is her launch team.

 

I’ve been privileged to settle into It’s Not Fair over the past few weeks. While our stories are radically different in detail, we share the inevitable reality that life has not been fair to us. And if we stopped there, the book would be nothing more than a reminder that some seasons of life just blow and we are not alone in our angst.

Melanie is authentic; she shares her journey through infertility and adoption with candor. She said herself that she can’t solve your stuff, so if you’re looking for a self-help book, move along…nothing to see here.

But if you are looking for someone to “sit next to you in your stuff” (or if you want to learn how to be a BOSS at sitting next to someone in their stuff) this is a must read.

Have you ever wanted to help but didn’t know how? There is an entire section titled “100 Things You Can Do to Help” but while you are at it, be sure to check out “Things You Should Say If You Want a Good Face Punch”. Let’s face it, we’ve all been there.

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Are you wallowing in the middle of something unimaginable right now? You will want to speed read over to the chapter on coping mechanisms but take your time because there is some really good stuff before you get there, some validation and empathy and I bet you could use that right about now.

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I have a list of favorite quotes. I laughed and I cried; I folded corners on pages so I wouldn’t lose them and I highlighted with fury. I drew smiley faces and sad faces and mad faces and I might have created some emojis of my very own. I felt validated and understood. Did you hear that? Validated. Understood. Seriously. Life. Changing.

Here are some of my personal favorites that:

  • “The words inside are like family. They’re raw and awkward and offensive and loving and encouraging and hopeful.” – (regarding the Bible)
  • “Safe people can let you lead the conversation and talk about what you need to talk about, not what they need to know.”
  • “Sometimes we need to stop trying to make each other feel better and just be together. Just join our friends in their ashes and sit quietly by their side.”
  • “Find the grace-bearers in your life. These are the people with whom you can be disgusting and they offer you grace and forgiveness.”
  • “But we need each other. We don’t need hordes of people, but we need a few to tether us to reality and remind us why our altered life might still be worth living.”

I loved all of it, including the rudimentary stick figure drawings and the chapter of recipes, because, well…food.

At the conclusion she didn’t wrap it all up with a nice bow and suggest we follow her step by step program to heal all of our pain and live happily ever after.

Rather, we display our scars, and when we pass each other and notice them, see the beauty in them, we nod. Solidarity.

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It’s not fair; we know it and we own it. For ourselves, yes, and for each other.

 

Wouldn’t you love to read this book? I suggest you run on over to one of the sites below and preorder it today! And if you comment below, right here on the blog page, I will enter you in a random drawing for a copy of the book! That’s right…I’m going to give a copy to one of my readers. I am so excited to bless you with this, but go ahead and order one, because you will want to give a copy to a friend!

By his grace, because Life’s not fair,

lorraine
The contest is closed. Congratulations Miranda! 

Thanks to everyone who participated! Now, order yourself a copy – you won’t regret it!

Pre-Order It’s Not Fair Today

FREE “Sur-Thrival Kit: Coping Strategies Activity Book” and “It’s Not Fair Discussion Guide” with pre-order.  Just email your receipt to unexpectedmel@unexpected.org to receive recipes, coloring sheets, group discussion questions, and Mel’s undying gratitude.

 

 

 

Wait! I Have to Wait???

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Wait! I Have to Wait???

Last Saturday we got up at three in the morning for a one day road trip to a destinatIon four hundred miles away. There was a new baby at the end of that road and it was time to meet her.

I had waited a week and I couldn’t wait any longer. I’d kept reminding myself that there were others helping my daughter with the day to day; I knew it was my turn to wait. I didn’t like it, but I waited.

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When we arrived at the house, Nana greeted us, baby in arms. She whispered that the other children didn’t know we were coming. I couldn’t wait to surprise them!

The five older children were in the backyard with Mom, enjoying some play time before the sun was high and hot. I paused to watch them play and then turned to my daughter. She looked tired; with a newborn and a four month old in the house, she hadn’t had much sleep. Wait, what?

You read that right. The youngest, just about four weeks old, was just visiting; her foster parents were on vacation at the beach and were getting a respite. My daughter was willing to cuddle a newborn for a short ten days to give them some time of refreshment.

A call came on Friday; Mom was enjoying caring for the wee one and they were all looking forward to Dad and their oldest brother returning from camp the next day. When she heard the request, the answer was an immediate yes. Yes, they would foster the baby, a four month old, currently in the hospital and a sibling to their adopted daughter.

Mom would be spending the next day at the hospital to meet with doctors and begin bonding with the precious girl. Hospital time; she waited to take her home.

The following day, a little girl who had been living in an unsafe situation moved into a house filled with children and love. The details aren’t mine to share; her story is still being written and by the grace of God, I am only part of it.

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The troops were rallied; friends, neighbors and family began showing up. Thirty-six hours isn’t much time to prepare for a new baby.

In the meantime, Dad and older brother were experiencing some delays of their own. Homeward bound and anxious to reunite with family, their bus broke down in the middle of nowhere. They weighed options and waited.

I’m a doer. Over the years as my daughters gave birth, I helped. I loved to pop in with food and while I was there do some laundry or a little cleaning.

This time, when I said “I’ll come”, she said “Others are here. Just wait, mom.”

You know how your “heart” is the seat of your emotions but your actual heart is pumping blood and keeping you alive? How is it then, that when your heart is aching the pain is in your chest? I struggled for a week with putting my finger on the emotion that was bringing me so much discomfort.

Was I jealous? Was I suffering from a severe case of “fear of missing out”? After all, other grandmas were there, in my daughter’s home, doing all sorts of things to help her. Oh dear Jesus, take the wheel, I wailed. Am I jealous? But when I got still and honest, I felt nothing but gratitude and love for those women who were there to help.

On Thursday afternoon, as I cleaned the break room kitchen at the office, I prayed (a great thing to do while taking care of mindless chores, by the way). Give me some clarity, I asked. Help me sort all of this out.

Suddenly it was clear. A new grandchild was waiting. I needed to hold her and speak words of hope and love over her. “It’s time…go” HE said.

For the fifth time in just three years, I took a baby that might leave in my arms; I opened my heart without holding anything back. I will gladly surrender it in exchange for the assurance that this little one will know the love of a grandma.

Waiting. This very minute, I have two grandchildren in waiting. Oh, not in my heart; they are sealed there forever, but the courts are still doing the legal stuff and so we wait for the day their names will be written in our family Bible just as they have been etched in our hearts.

In the waiting there is a beautiful picture of God’s waiting for us. He loves us even before we have all of the legal stuff (our sin) figured out and he loves us first.

Teach me to wait with your patience and steadfast love, Lord.

In this is love, not that we have loved God but that He loved us… 1 John 4:10a ESV

But God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us. Romans 5:8 ESV

 By His grace alone,

lorraine

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