I NEED HIM...A LOT!!!

Some days I think I need Him more than He will ever know. Today happened to be one of those days. I am in North Dakota - job hunting. I desperately want to reunite our family! I have missed our family dinners, our giggle sessions, our family time. It's horrible to think how much I took that for granted! So, here I am applying for everything I can find - and it seems if you talk to enough people you find plenty. That is good!

But this morning had nothing really to do with job hunting and everything to do with physical pain. My body just does this sometimes. It can be very irritating. I might be sleeping peacefully one moment and awake and dealing with screaming pain in muscles nobody realizes they have. That's when I have to pull myself out of bed and walk around for a bit then sit in the recliner or on the couch. Going back to bed really isn't an option, just magnifies the pain. Fortunately, it didn't hit until 5:30 this morning so I had 6 hours of sleep! A praise to be sure!

As the morning progressed and I pulled myself out of my slump, I changed my focus to Grandma as I watched her shuffle herself from the kitchen to her recliner. You can hear her heavy sighs as her earthly body groans with each passing day. Yet you never hear a word from her regarding her physical health. I offer to drive her to her eye appointment. She says I don't need to go with her but I assure her I want to. As we walk out the door she hands me the keys. It's as I crawl into her luxury vehicle that I realize my feet don't reach the pedals. SERIOUSLY!! She is sitting next to me asking if I want to sit on her cushion and I laugh and tell her I need to put it behind me so I can reach the pedals! She chuckles too. At her appointment they take her right back and I'm sitting in the waiting room. An older gentleman comes and sits there. His name...Daryl...yep! We talk about Stanley and farming for a bit then I feel compelled to ask him if he knows of any houses available in town that we might rent for a time while we get our land in order and our house built. He shares that his mother has just moved to an apartment because her home was too much for her 93 year-old body to manage. Stella, his mom, doesn't know if she wants to rent or sell, so I suggest rent to us and give her time to get used to the idea of selling. Daryl thinks it's a great idea and takes my phone number then gives me the address and his phone. It's a small house but, it has three bedrooms a living room, family room, kitchen and one bath. That's all we need to get by for now! Then we talk more about my desire to find a job and he tells me to go to the Farmers Union. They need lots of people. He gives me the name of the general manager and says to go over right away today because the GM is leaving on vacation for 10 days starting tomorrow and then has knee surgery. So I call the GM, he's booked solid. He tells me to meet the Controller, gives me her name and asks me to stop by. SMALL TOWNS! I love this place! After I meet with the controller and drop off my resume, I walk over to the new credit union in town to get information for setting up an account. I am greeted by a diamond in the rough - a young woman who has relocated to the area and never had a bank job (the difference in her attire from the other two women in the bank makes it very apparent.) As we talk I ask if they're hiring. The girl shares that they are needing people and gives me the email address for the hiring manager. So I get home and email him my information. Cool thing is he's willing to train anyone willing to work for them. They're just desperate for quality employees around here! The girls will do well once they get here!

In a bit I'm back at the house and the pain becomes consuming again. Then I'm sitting and wondering why I didn't seem to notice it while I was visiting with people. Then I realize that I was fellowshipping. There are many forms but this particular form of getting to know others is so good for helping me shift my focus. I've decided to test out my fellowship theory during those dark early morning hours when I can't even sit because of the pain. I have been downloading some music that speaks to me and I will fellowship with the Lord and turn the darkness into light.

I am so thankful for the new adventure we're on. I'm thankful for the unidentified chronic illnesses I'm dealing with. But more than that I'm thankful for family and friends who provide so much encouragement and prayer support as I walk this path! OH...and I'm thankful for Stanley, North Dakota friendliness!!!

MORE THAN CONQUERERS!

I'm sitting in North Dakota in Grandma's family room listening to the steady breathing of she and my husband as they take their Sunday afternoon naps. It's quiet here. Just the breathing and the ticking of the grandfather clock to keep me company. Alone with my thoughts I am drawn back to my last two days of devotions. They have been intense calls not only to worship but to action.

I have long desired to write, to create devotional books that would form desires in the readers hearts to know more, not about me, about Him. I have thought that I would like my writing style to maybe match the format and style of Beth Moore - for many years my inspiration. Yet as I am reading through Come Away My Beloved, I am feeling more and more compelled to write as Frances J. Roberts wrote. Her words a soothing balm to the Christian warriors war torn life, she pulls you to the feet of Jesus where you bask in His sweet gentle embrace. What a precious gift she has, how wonderful that she should glorify God so fully with it. This is my desire, to be able to not only draw someone in but lead them fully and completely into His presence.

Let me just share a few lines from the most recent devotions I've been reading...

As I have been reading the section entitled "Learn to Reign" which I believe should have been three different devotionals, the first of which I would have entitled, "More than Conquerers" - it's from this section that I will be quoting but first you'll need a little background. This part of the devotional is talking about our battle against Satan. It is noted that as soldiers going into battle we would not enter without preparation, ample ammunition, and intensive training. God does not expect us to meet our adversary ill-equipped or unarmed, but He does not want us to think it's some sort of magic either. She reminds us, from Jesus' perspective that "He is not out to torment. He is out to destroy, not to hurt you, but to crush you. Your strength is no match for him. You must learn how to lay claim to the throne of God. I have met him and won already as I hung on the cross. Now YOU must find the way of victory yourselves...do not cry out to Me in the hour of crisis and distress as though I would extend some miracle in answer to prayer. Of course I do answer prayer and I can perform miracles and bring deliverance, but if I do this, I have only rescued one of My own out of trouble while you have won no victory at all!"

I had never thought about the battles or struggles we face as being training grounds for victories in Christ. I haven't realized the extent to which God will go in order to provide the training we need. I am, however, grateful for His faithfulness to me and that He will NOT just leave me hanging in these instances.

I want to be MORE than just a conquerer though. I want to leave a footprint. I realize I'm no more than a player and not even a "headliner" in this thing we call life. My impact in this world will be small to be sure, but I also want it to be MIGHTY. Can I accomplish this? Is this even remotely possible? Well, the path I am currently on will provide some answers sometime down the road. Until then I shall remember that my strength, which is severely lacking at this time in my life, is not what I should be living on. I must seek Him, living in His strength for I have not the strength to even get up most mornings let alone walk this road of moving to North Dakota, dealing with Fibromyalgia and the possibility of Autoimmune Hepatitis or Sjogren's Syndrome or both. God is mighty to save, He is my Rock, my Redeemer, my Fortress, my Strength!

On Living with AD (an Autoimmune Disease)

My friend Frances sent this to me awhile back and I just ran across it again. At the time I loved it, "just because" but now I love it because it helps remind me of my Man. (and this time I'm not talking about Daryl. ;)

You will be hard to live with sometimes. (just ask my girls)
You will fall short. (my perpetual state)
You will forget to stand tall. (never have figured this one out lol)

(Here's the prec part)
And GOD, uncaring of what's cool will say,
"That one's Mine," anyway.

You see, GOD-sized dreams don't make sense. Not a bit.
Because they come from the heart of the ONE whose ways are higher than ours.
They flow from the ONE who stubbornly believes in grace.

If not for grace...

We wouldn't take a step
because it's grace that paves the road to GOD-sized dreams.
And we walk it, unworthy, anyway, all the way --
utterly broken and ENTIRELY LOVED!

Praying you all have a fabulous weekend. There are many things I'd like to share about Fibromyalgia (FM) my first firmly diagnosed AD. Maybe at the end of next week I'll be able to share more about my thoughts on my second AD - Sjogren's Syndrome (SS) - but that depends on how my visit with my new Rheumatologist goes! :)

Sometimes Life Is So Complicated!

So...I'm deviating from "WHO I AM" to "WHERE I AM" - this is an entry that may be very personal - it is meant more as a means for my personal growth but you are welcome to peer deeply in the my internal processes...but I must warn you - you should ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK.

SIDE NOTE: Sorry about the "fashion posts" I don't know how I linked this to my blog lol but I WILL try to get this to STOP showing up. It's a new site I discovered through Pinterest and in the process of PINNING I guess I also LINKED. Technology...

Back to my pivotal moment in time.
It does go back to the beginning of my marriage where my budget savvy husband Daryl would lament over the fact that when he was single he always had a few thousand in the bank and a few hundred in his wallet. This always irked me. I never have been good with money but I didn't view myself as a burden since I was able to contribute quite well to our family income. However, with the multitude of hours he put in, it soon became apparent if any bills were to be paid I would need to pay them.

Daryl has always been an extremely loyal and hard worker. He would put in 12 plus hour days on a regular basis and even work weekends. This sometimes caused conflict because he seemed never to be home and when he was he wanted to relax and not tackle any form of honey dos. I, being the mature creature that I was, would simply strike back by NOT doing much of anything myself. I mean, we both worked right? IT WAS HORRIBLE! The house was always a mess, sink was always piled with dishes and the only thing that had some semblance of "order" was the schedule I kept for Bethany and I. And yet, I was slothfulness at it's finest. Daryl hated it. It drove him crazy! He was always one to claim that "everything has it's place and that's where it belonged." So, he would take care of his things and I would take care of mine. It wasn't the best situation and the sad thing is I wore him down. Eventually he stopped caring and gave in to my way of living - and you can just imagine how horrible things got then.

Our bills reflected my attitude until for survival sake I made sure the things that HAD to get paid did. Many times Daryl promised to take over the finances if I just got things lined out and taken care of. Many times, I did just that because I SO did not want to do the budget any longer - but I never got it to the place where he would take it on. This in turn frustrated me as well. It took Kenzi having an impetigo episode to turn around my slothful ways. She was nine months old, crawling and drooling everywhere. The impetigo showed up in her armpits and was very contagious. Because of her baby ways - Bethany got it on her feet. It was not an easily conquered ailment and I would literally scrub the house top to bottom every day with the hopes of obtaining victory over this nasty thing! From that time forward I would always make sure my house was clean. It might have been cluttered, but it was most definitely clean. This was probably an answer to prayer for Daryl.

When I came to know the Lord in 1994 and felt Him prompting me to quit my job (which at the time was our main income and our benefits) and stay home and be a wife and mother, I did just that. Since I was home I settled in my heart that I would be responsible for the bills and payments. This worked for a long time but we still struggled because along with our lack of prowess financially, we also had a lack of communication. I think I would prefer to call it a language barrier. Daryl speaks predominantly MALE and I only knew how to speak FEMALE. It made things extremely difficult because we just did not understand one another. Between the two major struggles there were many times during those years I would wake up and think, "WHO ARE YOU?" or "You are NOT the man I married, I don't even know or understand you!" Those moments would pierce me to the core. I never wanted to lose him but I didn't want us to go through life not knowing one another either.

One thing that I had not acknowledged was our combined sense of pride. Daryl's pride stemmed from his hard working background. Telecommunications was an ART for him. If you ever saw a telephone cabinet with thousands of wires leading in to the main unit - most often you would see a MESS of wires - that you cannot track. Daryl's finished product is a picturesque work of art. The wires come in and are all bundled by location and clearly marked. To say he takes pride in his work may be an understatement. For Daryl there is no other way to work. As far as my pride goes - well it's a little harder to explain. It's best summed up in this, "I take pride in my humility."

This brings me to today's lesson. Another revelation of pride in my own life that I haven't realized was there. Five years ago my health began to deteriorate and I turned over the finances in their entirety to Daryl. I just could not do it. I was done in. The weight I lived with, the guilt, the shame all lifted with this turn over of responsibility. And for several years I flat out refused to even become involved...till now. In November I left my job because of my health. I was unable to put in a full 40 hour week and needed some time to recuperate. This came about the same time Daryl was offered a job and relocated to North Dakota. Thinking I had this all under control I took on paying bills and felt I was good enough and things would be fine. Today I was proven wrong and I am not only humbled but humiliated. I have had another facet of my life broken and undone. However, I am SOOOO thankful! I am praising God for His timing in this teaching and pray that I will learn all I need through this situation. Things will be tough for awhile because of my mistake but I LOVE that God is working in such a way in my life.

Weaving Through Life

I've never been privileged to witness someone operating a weaving loom but I've seen the end product and tapestries are amazing. The intricacies of the design, the variations in colors and shades, how they can start with one simple strand and piece by piece create a breath-taking scene is amazing to me.

My first strand was put in place 45 years ago. I was 5 of 7 in a Japanese-French American family. My parent's love story is a sweet one and I will be happy to share that with you some day. I came along at the end of my Dad's Air Force career so I cannot be called an Air Force brat because we only moved five times and the final move happened when I was in second grade landing our family in what was at the time a tiny suburb of Denver, Colorado. During my teen years Aurora was always jokingly referred to as Kansas but in the years to come I would find that there was still a lot of Colorado between Aurora and the Kansas border!

My childhood memories were woven in my highly imaginative world of make-believe. I was always acting out my favorite episode of "Little House on the Prairie" and as much as I wanted to play Mary, I always got stuck in the role of Half-Pint, Laura Ingalls, first because I was short, secondly because I had freckles. My hair was never long enough to braid though. For some reason my mom always thought I looked best with short pixie cuts. The closest I came to long hair was my junior high bi-level - don't know if any of you remember those but the front past the ears was more of a pixie and the back was long. You could liken it to a mullet but I would never claim to have had one of those. lol.

Elementary through Junior High were spent at a plaid skirt wearing Catholic School. Friends came and went there and when we were off to High School everyone was split up and I had to start all over again. I wasn't the most out-going girl during those days. Being shy and quiet, short and pretty much invisible made it easy for me to just sit back and observe all the drama and avoid being in the streamline of those daily activities. It wasn't until my 8th grade year that I started to pull out of that, finding myself part of the "popular" crowd on the cheer squad. Of course I was always out front and never the flyer because I was too short. Although the flyer was shorter than me, she was a gymnast which ranked her higher than my inexperienced self. Watching her fall a few times cured me of any thoughts of jealousy that may have clouded my thinking. Amazingly enough my "first kiss" happened my 8th grade year with the one and only short guy left in the class (at the time that is). We could almost see eye to eye so it wasn't too intimidating but that peck on the lips left me red faced and giddy for a good week. I saw him a year later and he'd had a growth spurt that put him on the starting string of the basketball team his sophomore year.

High School was for the most part anti-climactic. I was part of a class of about 36 females at the all-girl Catholic High School I was forced to attend. I say forced because I sincerely desired to attend the public school just a couple miles from our house. There they had a ton of students, it was easy to "blend in" but they also had the most amazing drama department and music department I'd ever seen. My hearts desire was to be part of their productions but it was not to be. I loved to sing. Had been playing piano since third grade and played for various talent shows and events. By Sophomore year I quite taking lessons because I was sight reading extremely well and playing advanced piano so we figured I could just keep playing for my personal enjoyment. At school I accompanied sometimes, but most of the time I was the lead soprano. I was reputed to have the voice of an angel. Freshman year I was one of three freshmen that made it into the musical revue. It was so much fun! Sophomore year was a hard year. Some health issues started, a very cruel man came into our music department and did his best to run me off. If it wasn't for my very brave older sister I probably would have quit sooner. She watched out for me though, we were both in glee club at the time and he picked on me incessantly. One day she told him off. I was in awe of her bravery but meekly turned in my drop slip and left the music department afraid I would never again be able to perform. But my junior and senior years were blessed with the arrival of Miss Jolene Black. Someone who believed in me and encouraged me. She trained me vocally and had me compete on several different levels and finding myself coming out on top! Those days were filled with incredibly bright blue strands (the colors of the ribbons on the medals!) I was invincible. Everything I competed for I won. I auditioned for a play at the all-guys school down the street and was one of 8 chosen to be in it. But being on stage frightened me. It wasn't the singing that was the issue, it was the acting. I could live in my imaginary world but there was nothing imaginary about standing on a stage and "acting" like someone else and having to recite memorized lines. Every night up until performance I would have a nightmare about going on stage and forgetting my lines. Fortunately it never happened. I never connected with the other actors. For some reason I wasn't allowed to go to the weekend retreat where they all got to know each other - it may have been a vocal competition that kept me away - whatever it was, they all came back very close and buddy-buddy and I was left standing in the wings. Aside from my friendship with the lighting guy, I was pretty much left alone.

It was the lighting guy that ended up being my first "love". I put parenthesis because I believe it was more infatuation and eventually lust that drove the relationship. We were never right for one another but somehow we were drawn to each other. In the end we married because of the responsibility of the child I was carrying. The marriage lasted just over a year. The breaking point came when the burden of being provider and trying to go to school became too much and he left. Those were dark strand days for us. I was hopeless to see our future but plugged away because we had to survive.

The brightest points in the tapestry of my life during those days were my moments with Bethany. I had the majority of the custody which was huge! She would spend every other weekend with her dad but the rest of the time she was with me. I loved being a mother. I loved our bedtime routines, reading books, dancing to salt and peppa, watching strawberry shortcake, playing together at the playground. We did everything together, I told her everything about my life and she in turn loved me unconditionally.

More dark times were ahead though with rejections, accusations, harsh words, bad choices, you name it. It wasn't that life was careening out of control but my threads were beginning to fray a bit and I knew something had to change. Enter Daryl Johnson...

And here's where I sign off for the day - I guess I am trying to catch you up to the point where I can begin sharing deeper things with you - but for now - happy weaving.