[the one about steak and cake]

My dad’s passing was the first of many challenges that would happen over a very short period of time. This was the first death of a family member I had experienced and oh how it ached. How does one process grief, mourn a relationship, remember a person, acknowledge the difference between the Spirit and body and ultimately accept the fact the little box of dust was once your Father-who was has been weary, yet beautifully knitted together just days before. A pastor from our church asked me, “Was your Dad a Christian?” 

In 2003, Bobby and I surprised Dad for his birthday. Over steak dinner and chocolate cake, Bobby answered the “what are your intentions with my daughter” type of questions with ease (after all, we would be engaged a month later). We talked about our call to ministry, how we wanted to share the Gospel with all people. Dad was quick to quip “So, you’re gonna go live in a jungle?” Our reply “If that’s where we’re called to go.” Dinner continued on, the subject was changed and laughter resumed. We begin to say our goodbyes, I hug my Tutu tight and turn to see Bobby sharing the Gospel with my Dad. 

“Was your Dad a Christian?” The knot rose in my throat. Weak and speechless with tears burning. The shoulder shrug indicating no one really knew.  Sometimes, God doesn’t call everyone to the jungle to spread the Gospel. Yes, He does call others to foreign mission fields, but in this case and at an appointed time, He placed Bobby at the table to share the Gospel with my father and pray with him. The choice to accept the free gift of salvation would be entirely up to him. How does one make sense of a situation that has eternal consequences, when our society is focused on the “here and now”. Often our focus is today, not tomorrow and surely not eternity, because we’ve got plenty of time to deal with tomorrow when it gets here. Our commandment is found in Matthew 28:19 “Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost.”  This command isn’t “go at your leisure, when you want, whenever you’re done doing your thing” sort of command. The command is “GO” now. It is imperative: Commands. Necessary. Required. We are not promised tomorrow. James 14:4 tells us we are “but a vapor that appears for a little while and then vanishes away”.  Just as the focus of our wants/needs/desires is immediate- we need to have the same immediacy in spreading the Gospel. We are so quick to share through facebook, twitter, pinterest, blogger, vine, instagram: pictures of what we ate, workout plans, commentary about sports, complaints about irritations <-- those things don’t matter. What does matter is what we neglect. What really matters makes the difference between the knot of uncertainty in the throat and the peace that the assurance of salvation brings.

[the one about my dad]

I grew up without a father. Fatherless. He found out my mom was pregnant and that was that. He left and I didn’t have a father. Abandoned. At school, kids would ask “What’s your dad’s name?” or “What does your dad do?” and the only thing I knew to say was “I don’t have a dad.” I went to a church and my prayer request was the same “For my mom to stop smoking and to meet my dad”. Father’s Day sucked. I remember the deep sobs and the resolution that I will find my father. When I turned 18, that is exactly what I did. In 2002, I aged out of foster care and was given his last known address. I sent a letter…and I got one back. Pictures. A grandmother, aunts, uncles, cousins, a brother and a sister and--my dad. I met my father later that year. We didn’t spend time rehashing the past of why he left. I was thankful to see him. He was thankful to see me. And we invested our time in building a relationship.

Late January 2009, I get a phone call from my sister saying our dad is in the hospital. Not knowing exactly what was going on, we decide we need to see him. I was starting a new stage of my life - the  beautifully exhausted days that swell together as a brand new momma. All my clothes have spit-up stains and I didn't care because I was falling in love with my sweet girl. We live in North Dakota and he’s in Washington DC. And I trek across the county with my babe in the bjorn, a backpack pull of supplies, a car seat on one hand and our suitcase in the other. We arrive at the hospital and I see why no one wanted to tell us what was going on. Without a word, I knew. Stage 4 of whatever it was and there was nothing that could be done. Nothing. He wanted it this way, the family says. He didn’t want anyone to know. And I am broken.

I was able to spend a few days with him, holding his hand, looking into his brown eyes (the same ones my Tutu had, the ones my auntie m has, the ones my sister, my brother and I have and now ones my sweet girl has). On February 4, 2009, I said good-bye to my dad. I knew it would be the last…everything. How do you just let go, look away, and walk the 32 steps down the hall? The last thing my father told me was “Take care of that beautiful family.” And with that, I returned home with my husband and precious daughter. February 10, he was gone. I was awake, nursing my sweet girl. 3am my phone lights up and I recognize the area code. I let it go to voice mail because I already knew. I held my sweet girl close and began weeping.

 

4 years ago, I lost my father. I also lost sight of my God. I trusted feelings instead of fact and ran to the darkness to allow those feelings to take root and grow. It's been 4 years and I've made was back to the light and the truth. 

Psalm 147:3 - He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds

Psalm 18:2 - The LORD is my rock and my fortress and my deliverer, My God, my rock, in whom I take refuge; My shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold

I am reminded and challenged that even when I felt abandoned, alone, unloved or worthless- I wasn't. I was never alone. I was being pursued by a loving God who restores and redeems.  He waits for me and calls me from the darkness and shadow when I want to run. His love love is so deep that he gave his Son, Jesus Christ to be a ransom for many (Matthew 20:28) that we would be saved (John 3:17). A God who mourns the passing of my father too because after all, my father was created in His image - a child of God. 

[a letter to me at 16]

To celebrate Emily Freeman's new book "Graceful", she is asking others to consider what you would say to the 16 yr. you. Please check out her blog and join in the fun and challenge of figuring out what you would say to you.

 

Dear Virginia,

I know…I know. You go by “Ginny” because “Virginia” makes you feel like an old grandma. I’ve heard/said that a million times. In a few short years, that will change. Right now you are in a residential foster care placement. Things happened that were absolutely beyond your control. You have been broken into pieces because of it. You will be stronger for this. Your experience of foster care will open your eyes to a silent population of children who have no voice. You will dedicate your life to serving those who are broken. You will make it. You will survive. You will do more than survive. You will overcome.

You have a tendency to run. Whether you run by hiding, lying, pretending, stuffing, exploding, denying, cutting, wrong relationships, numbing your feelings, breaking rules. Please lets these words simmer in your heart until you are ready: You cannot run away from the things you keep carrying. There will be one time when it’s okay to run—and as scared as you will be—RUN from Nebraska to South Carolina for college. Don’t look back. You will desperately want to change and you will want to be called Virginia. You will find yourself uncomfortable in this foreign environment. It’s okay. You will make it your home. It will be amazing. People will swallow you up with love. You will find your reason to stop running. You will break the cycle.

You will feel alone. Often. There is a difference between what we feel and the truth. Don’t buy in to the lie of your feelings. And hold on tight-Love is coming. Yes, you will meet the man God has picked for you. Not the high school boyfriend, so please don’t waste your time on him. This man will share his heart with you while yours breaks. Through these words, you will find life. You will find the unconditional love you have searched for that was right there all along. Sweet Jesus loves you. Your identity is found in Christ alone. Not in the words others have said, not in the crimes committed in the darkness, not in the eyes of the world. Your identity, your value, your WORTH is found alone in the fact that YOU ARE PRICELESS TO THE KING! You’re so precious to the Kingdom that God gave His Son as a sacrifice for you, the things you bury, the guilt and shame you carry, the walls you build, the shadows you allow in your life—All of it. He sees it. He will never run like the rest. He is always there. Mercy. Redemption. Hope. Promise. Love sweet love. And through Him, you are healed. Your scars are made into a beautiful testimony.  You are rescued, loved and transformed for Him. This man who shared his heart is a precious gift from God. Take time enjoying the wonderful love story he will write. And fear not what the doctors have said. You will have beautiful babies. Not your plan or timing, but God is perfect and those babies are your crown jewels.

You have a deep longing for your father. While he abandoned you and has never had any relationship with you whatsoever, you have a place deep in your heart of wonder, love, hope, and forgiveness. Unearned and freely given. This place will help lead to healing. I am so thankful you’ve kept it buried deeply and untarnished. You will meet your father, but you will only have a few precious years. As quickly as he came, my sweet child, he will leave again, although in a way God has already planned. This will happen as you are finding the sweetness in being a beautifully exhausted new mother. You will grieve the “what could have been”. This will hurt you deeply and your precious heart will throb and ache for years. You will try to run away again. Wait for the sun to break through the darkness my love. Stop reaching into the dark for answers. Reach into the light.

Fight for joy. Don’t fight people. You’ve built so many walls and you fight anyone who wants to get close. You’ll figure this out soon enough who to let in and who to set boundaries with. There are relationships you have invested in that you will find are toxic. These will dig at your heart. It will be okay. Work through it. Don’t waste moments reliving the pain. Set your boundaries.  Love and pray for their hearts. Love and pray for your heart. Keep moving forward.

I know how excited you are to take sewing instead of cooking, but please hear me out. You will still be clueless on how to sew after the class. Please invest your time in cooking. You will mess up many a meal, pass around food poisoning like Halloween candy, and set the kitchen on fire every year. Please go change your class schedule now.

Stop listening to Master P’s  “Make ‘Em Say ‘Uh”. You will rap this song almost every chance you get and it will not help you make any friends whatsoever. Also, a few months ago you shaved your head [still confused about this]. While we won't address the awkward "growing out stage"  you are in now, please do us a favor. Get a flippin' straightener! Your hair will grow back darker brown wavy and thick. Straighten that mess sweet child. You cannot rock the afro. Or the plastic silver pants you are waiting to come back in style. 

Stay strong little me. You're amazing, You just don't believe it yet. :)



walls

at last, i have found time to write again. my house is quiet and smells good (thank you febreze) and it is 2am. ive been thinking about what i would write for my next blog post. praying about things on my heart, lessons God has been teaching me lately, and trying to become as transparent as possible.

this girl here is a mess.

you see, ive spent years building some really sturdy, heavily fortified walls in my life. ive let events in my life turn my heart away to darkness and to "protect" myself ive put these walls up. for years. between me and everybody. and something that ive been learning lately (one of those lessons where God sort of shakes you up...) is that those walls don't protect anything. they isolate. so this is what happened: i would get angry, hurt, lonely, etc and would allow those feelings to have free reign of what i put the wall up around: my heart. i was the shell of the person that God had intended me to be. and the truth is- i am tired. tired of putting these walls up and not knowing why anymore. its become automatic. its turned into a natural reaction when stuff gets hard. and im tired of building as if the hard stuff doesnt exist.

i've been takin' my time
 buildin' these walls that
 i'm hidin' behind
 i've been diggin' these trenches
 an' paintin' these fences
 to hide what's inside

"never" by hyland

thats not who i want to be. most importantly, i want to be who God has called me to be: an encourager to help strengthen and uplift. i want to help others who are lost find these way to the Healer. and if im building these walls, how am i building anything for the Kingdom? ive started to take these walls down. somedays it's only a couple of bricks, other days, i got at it with a sledge hammer. i deal with the muck of my sinfulness. my pride. my anger. my vengence. my [insert everything] that ive let become an idol before Christ.

i feel peace. i starting to feel the joy that i have been fighting for. and most importantly, i feel (and know!) love. loved in my mess and mistakes. loved as i run hard after the truths of the Scripture and pursue with passion our Savior.

Test

This is a test.

blog in progress :)